Her alarm woke her at 7:00. The electronic ringing seemed to delve its way into head and set fire to her brain. Groaning, she reached out to turn it off, knocking over an empty bottle of wine from the bedside table, which crashed painfully loudly on the floor and rolled away. She clutched her head, which was throbbing. Groggily making her way to the bathroom, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. A huge purple bruise was flowered across her left cheek, around her eye and touching on the bridge of her nose. Remembering how at some point between the sixth and the seventh glass of wine she had fallen off the sofa and hit her head on the table, she groaned. It was already difficult enough facing a group of colleagues who thought she had killed their colleague, let alone when she had a fucking black eye as well. This was not going to be the best day.

…

"You're late, Zoe, patient in cubicle- what happened?" Charlie had seen Zoe's bruise, which she had tried to cover with make up, but apparently, hadn't tried hard enough.

"Ohh not so loud, Charlie. Bit of a- heavy night." She rolled her eyes at Charlie's disapproving look, "can you blame me, really? You all think I killed a member of staff, and I can't prove otherwise!"

He handed her the notes for a patient and walked off. Her heart fell a little bit further. Charlie was almost like a father to her, had always treated her like his own. To see him turn his back on her was painful- she thought that out of everyone, he might have believed her. Leaving her coat and bag in her locker, she turned and was about to leave the staff room when she was stopped.

"Zoe!" She waited a second and prepared herself for another lecture about her eye or her drinking or maybe she had killed another patient? Turning round, she saw Robyn. She hadn't seen her since that fateful day, and seeing her so obviously broken and grief-stricken made her stomach turn. Of course, it was her brother who had died.

"Robyn, how are you doing?"

Robyn's face was contorted with rage as she spat out: "I don't know how you can stand there and look me in the eye after what you've done."

Zoe sighed. How many times was she going to have to protest her innocence? "Robyn, I didn't do it. You've got to believe me, I didn't-."

"You were sleeping with him." Zoe looked to the floor. She couldn't deny that one. Several people were congregating round the two women now, interested in the shouting. "I knew it! You were in some sick relationship! Oh my God, I can't believe I didn't guess! They were your shoes."

"Robyn, we weren't just- fooling around. Well, we were, at first, but we were actually quite close before- before he-"

"-before you killed him."

"No, Robyn, no. I didn't kill him, I swear to you."

"You led him on, and then took your opportunity to kill him when you had the chance so that no one would find out. I thought it was just an accident, but this- this is murder, Zoe!"

"That's ridiculous! I wasn't leading him on, and I didn't kill him, I couldn't murder him! Robyn, you're not thinking straight, I wouldn't have killed him just so that no one would find out, that's insane-" But Robyn was already walking away.

The group of people watching had swelled to hear Robyn's words. Zoe looked into the faces of her colleagues. She felt like she was stuck in some kind of nightmare: Max dies, she's accused of murdering him, and she can't prove that she didn't. How had they found out? Feeling accusation coming at her from all sides, from people she thought liked and respected her: Tess, Charlie, Ash, Big Mac: she was so alone in this room full of friends.

In attempt to protect her innocence, she said "I didn't do it," but her voice caught in her throat and it came out more as a whispered croak than a defiant protest. Her eyes begged those around her to believe and trust her, although the black eye slightly reduced the effect.

"You judged me for Fletch, Zoe, and all the time you were- carrying on with Max," Tess spoke up, tones of anger and resentment playing loudly in her voice, "some friend."

Her words bit into Zoe like knives, and she recoiled physically. "I'm so sorry," a tear trickled down her cheek which she wiped away roughly, wincing as she made contact with her bruise, "please, Tess, I didn't kill him."

But Tess turned on her hall and disappeared out the staff room door. Zoe looked at each of the remaining faces in turn, but was met with only disgust and pity. "Please," she whispered, but the stony silence pressed in on her, broken only by footsteps as people began to follow Tess and leave the room. Lily looked at Zoe with such pity in her eyes that Zoe scowled at her.

"Charlie, wait," Zoe cried after him, "you believe me, don't you?" She grabbed his arm to stop him leaving, but he pushed her off.

"I don't know what I believe, Zoe. But you shouldn't have been seeing Max, and he didn't deserve what happened to him." He left the room, leaving Zoe alone.

She collapsed into a chair, now crying freely. "I didn't do it," she struggled through her tears, "I didn't do it."

…

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"If you want."

"That's a good bruise."

"You should see the other cow." She knocked back the last of her double vodka like it was water. "Another one, please," she called to the girl behind the bar, her words slightly slurred.

"I'll get it," he held out a ten pound note to the girl, and Zoe looked at him.

"I can buy my own drinks."

"I don't doubt that. I was just-"

She had slid off her stool with impressive control considering the amount of alcohol that was fuelling her limbs, and was now looking him dead straight in the eyes. "Trying to get me into bed."

"Well- that was quick." He looked surprised, and moved closer to her, breathing heavily in her face.

"I can't be fucked with the talking. Do you have alcohol at yours?"

Taken aback by her straightforward talking, but not about to blow it, "of course."

"Well then. Call a taxi."

He kissed her roughly on the mouth, "outside in two minutes," and disappeared to call one. Zoe took the vodka that the girl had put on the bar and drank steadily, barely pausing for breath. She grimaced, slammed the glass back to the bar and followed the stranger out the bar.
Tonight was mission self destruct.