Ladder

She reluctantly rolls herself out of bed when she hears the phone ring. Laura knows it would've been only a matter of time before she'd have had to get herself up anyway; after all, twelve-thirty is awfully late to be sleeping in—even on a Sunday after a long stressful week. But in spite of this logic, Hobson still can't supress a groan as she slides her feet into fuzzy slippers, ties on a dressing gown, and runs into the other room to pick up her mobile—still blaring the Austin Powers theme—off the kitchen table.

"Hullo," she yawns into the phone, not even bothering to check her caller i.d. She's planning on making this conversation as brief as possible, so that she can sink into a nice, relaxing, hour-long bubble bath immediately afterwards.

"Er… hi, Laura. It's…it's Robbie. There's…there's been a bit of a problem… I would've called James, but he's at a dress rehearsal for his band concert, I think."

" I see." She waits for him to state the reason for his call, and when he doesn't immediately, she tries to subtly prompt him. "So…"

"So… what?"

"So, why are calling me again?"

"It's…it's kind of embarrassing." He sighs and takes a deep breath before continuing. "Well, you… you see… I've fallen off a ladder."

She nearly drops the phone in her shock. "You've what?"

"Please don't laugh."

Did he really think she'd find that thought funny instead of positively terrifying? What sort of person did he think she was?

"What's happened? Are you all right? How long ago was it? Do you feel faint?" She struggles to keep the panic out of her voice, not wanting to cause him any more concern than he must already feel.

"Well… I was… I was trying to fix a paint chip in my ceiling—wasn't I? And I dunno what happened exactly. I just me balance isn't very good, cause next thing I know, I'm lying flat on me back on a hardwood floor, and everything hurts like hell."

"Oh, Robbie!" Hobson is now halfway between exasperation and worry, and her own heavy breathing seems to echo in her ears. She must sound like Darth Vader right now on the other end.

"I think I should be okay, though." How on earth is Robbie able to keep his voice so mellow during all this? He's the one who should be panicking—not Laura. He's the one who's fallen off the bloody ladder after all!

" But I'd still like to see the doctor—just to be sure," Lewis continues. "And well… I was calling cause I'm not really sure I'd be able to drive meself."

"Of course. Say no more. I'll be there in just a few minutes."

She hangs up the phone, grabs her purse, and quickly exchanges her slippers for trainers before hurrying out to her car.

She's halfway to the inspector's house before she realizes that she's still wearing her pyjamas, that she hasn't combed her hair, brushed her teeth, or put on make-up. God, she can't imagine how horrible she must look right now, what Lewis will think of her when he sees her. Ah, well, it's her own fault for sleeping half the day away, and it's too late to turn back now. Her Robbie needs her.