Chapter Text
4:55 PM, London, Pargrave Investigations Office
1 BV (Before Villanelle)
It's a Friday afternoon. Eve is just about to head out of the office when an email pops into her inbox. She almost doesn’t check it, as it is five minutes before the office closes and ten minutes before she’s supposed to catch the train. She was looking forward to Indian takeaway in her fridge and a long night of trash TV. The subject line makes her reconsider.
From: F. De Leon.
Urgent job required. Will pay £££££.
The most expensive, rush premium package at Pargrave Investigations already guaranteed Eve at least ten more bottles of Tesco Merlots and two more Deliveroo orders in her monthly budget. She wasn’t going to say no to a job that would make more than that.
Shrugging off the coat she just put on, Eve sits back in her chair and opens the email.
I am looking to hire somebody very discreet to take clear pictures of my wife engaged in adulterous behavior at a social function tomorrow evening. We are in the beginning of a divorce proceeding and I would like to be freed of the prenuptial arrangement. It is imperative that this is done covertly and correctly, as my divorce proceedings begin very shortly and I have so far been unable to find evidence that helps my case. You will be invited as a guest with a pseudonym to the event, and you will take close up pictures of my wife's infidelity there. I require the pictures to be saved onto an SD card that will be passed onto an employee of mine outside the building of the event at midnight.
Given the extremely short turn around time on a weekend, the extremely sensitive nature of your work, as well as knowing the quality of your work, I would offer -
Before Eve can even finish reading the email, Bill bursts through her office door with a goofy, wide smile.
"Twenty-five thousand quid!" Bill croons, singsongy and jovial.
Eve can barely believe the figure being yelled at her and what she's reading on her screen. Forget wine and Deliveroo. Every fee was always split neatly in half between her and Bill, and £12,500 would be her biggest takeaway from a case in five years. Between the past two years' divorce litigation costs and multiple roundtrip flights to Connecticut to visit and subsequently bury her mother, she could really use the money.
"This guy must be rich rich," Eve mumbles, scrolling through the details of the case at the bottom of the email. "If he's spending this much to get pictures of his wife cheating, she must have him on the hook for a pretty crazy amount of money."
Bill takes the seat in front of her desk and faces her with a knowing smile.
“So you’ll do it then, right?”
Bill, for all his decades of experience in M-16 prior to starting his own PI firm, was absolutely shit at taking covert pictures. Once, they had gotten a contract to photograph a husband involved in a duplicitous affair with his poolboy, and only after they had opened up the files did they realize Bill's thumb had been over the half the lens the whole time. That being said, Pargrave Investigations still had a reputation as one of London's finest private investigation firms - Bill had a way with people, and it was evident these connections had paid off with this job offer.
"Um, hell yeah I'll do it," Eve responds.
"Good, because Keiko and I need a vacation to Florence - been promising her one for a year and a half."
Eve scans the bottom of the email and lets out a small gasp.
"Holy shit. The event tomorrow is the opening night of the Angelica Kauffman exhibition at the National Gallery."
Bill lets out a low whistle. "Seems like it'll be pretty chic."
"Yeah, I'll bet they'll have Veuve Clicquot in crystal flutes on silver trays."
Bill purses his lips and scans Eve from head to toe.
"...Eve, love, I will ask Keiko to set something aside for you to wear tomorrow."
Eve tries not to feel a bit offended by Bill's double take, and the thought of the job pay out humbles her. It was true that the fanciest thing she owned was a seven year old black dress from Sak's on Fifth that Niko had purchased for her on a work trip that no longer was even close to fitting her.
"Alright, you old bastard," Eve grumbles, standing to put her coat on again. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, I want to make the tube."
"See you, you old bird!" Bill responds with a wink. "Come fresh faced and wash your hair, you'll have to blend in."
Eve shoots him a middle finger as she hurries out the door, speedwalking to try to make the train.
It has been years since they have received a tantalizing assignment of this calibre, Eve thinks, as she enters the London Underground. Private investigating was mostly trying to find "missing" people in the past few years.
Eve has grown used to finding lost husbands, wives, and adult children through the power of the Internet and PI databases. She usually could tell exactly what was happening before the client was even done explaining their story. A mysteriously missing husband who hasn’t called in a while - he’s left for a mistress. A son stops contacting his wealthy family - he’s run off and joined a sex commune. A wife who leaves in the middle of making dinner, not to be heard from again - she’s finally left her shitty husband.
After her many years in the business, Eve came to understand that people went missing all the time. More often than not, people went missing because they didn’t want to be found.
The rest of her commute is exactly the same as always. A train carriage packed like sardines, an overcast sky and a vaguely stinky smell just about everywhere, and a bus ride where someone is playing music on their phone without headphones.
London, Eve thinks. Greatest city in the world. Other than New York, Tokyo, Seoul, or, well, a few other cities.
Eve is scrolling mindlessly through her phone on her walk from the bus stop, turning the corner to her flat when she hears someone call her name.
"Eve!"
Niko stands there, sheepish and awkward, slouching to meet her gaze as he always had. In his right hand he held his umbrella, in the left a small tupperware labeled ‘moussaka’.
It is an indescribable feeling, falling out of love with someone, especially after over fifteen years of marriage. Eve thinks back to how she used to be fond of Niko's love of various mashed potato casserole dishes, his wiry moustache, his ridiculously hairy chest. How his Polish accent would only really slip out when he was angry. How he was over a foot taller than her and could reach the highest shelves at the grocery store effortlessly.
The last four years of their marriage had been weightless and strange. An organic distance started to form between them for no particular reason at all. There wasn't a dramatic flashpoint, no crazy argument. When Eve accidentally noticed Niko's mistress's ripped panties on her bedroom floor, she wasn't even sure if she felt mad. She had only looked under the bed to pick up her Chapstick that had fallen. Eve knew her marriage was definitely over when she realized she didn't feel anything at all when Niko confessed he was seeing Gemma.
“How’s Gemma?” Eve asks, unsure if she really cares to know the answer. Her hands fumble through her bag searching for the keys to her flat.
“Gemma’s good,” Niko responds quickly.
“How’s the baby?”
Niko seems genuinely surprised that Eve is asking.
“Do you want to see?”
Eve nods, slowly, and Niko balances the tupperware he’s holding in the crook of his elbow to fish his phone out of his coat pocket.
Wide eyed and smiling mischievously, baby Ada's hands, lips, white jumper, and the high chair she sat in were covered in smears of what Eve hoped was bright orange coloured baby food.
"She looks happy," Eve comments, unsure what else to say.
Niko's eyes are filled with adoration for his daughter. Eve is a bit jealous of how he has managed to completely reinvent himself in his 40's. He cheated, he had an extramarital love child, but his life seemed better than it had before.
A text pops up from Gemma and Niko fumbles to pull his phone away from Eve's view. He hastily shoots a text back and pockets his phone. For a few seconds there is an unbelievably awkward silence between them.
Niko rubs the back of his neck and sighs, and Eve knows from her still-perfect mastery in the Niko vernacular that this meant he was about to ask her something.
“Bari and Nazeem really miss you at the dinner parties- you always had the best stories and were the funniest when we got tipsy."
"I've been busy lately." This is a lie, unless eating Chinese takeaway by yourself to the sounds of Great British Bake Off counted as work.
"Next gathering is next Sunday evening, at…" Niko trails off, unsure how to phrase his invitation. "At the old place. My current place. You know. 6 PM."
Eve had, of course, moved out of the house that they shared during the divorce. Niko's name was on the lease and he was having a baby.
"I'll see if I can make it." Also a lie.
"Excellent!'
Niko, being Niko, was very good at believing what he wanted to believe. Out of all the differences between them, this was the biggest one. Eve's wistful, not-quite-a-promise was good enough for him.
"I have to get going," Niko says. "Please, take this for dinner, I made too much extra yesterday."
"Okay, thank you," Eve responds, letting Niko hand her the container.
"I'll see you soon," Niko says, and he turns around and leaves without another word. He waves as he gets into his car parked down the block.
Eve doesn't say anything in response and watches him drive away, wondering how and when she had realized he didn't know who she was at all.
After she enters her cramped flat, Eve tosses the moussaka in her fridge amongst the myriad of what was probably dozens of unopened uneaten Tupperwares of food. She takes off her pants in her main hallway, grabs and cracks open a beer, and sits on her couch and flicks on the TV.
The rest of the evening is uneventful. Just a quiet and dark apartment, microwaved chicken tikka masala and a glass (or three) of Merlot.
When Eve checks the clock it is suddenly 1:20 AM and she has managed to waste away another Friday night by herself. She changes into her favorite huge hoodie, haphazardly brushes her teeth, and settles into bed.
For a moment, Eve traces the waistband of her underwear and considers masturbating.
Almost immediately after thinking about it, she realizes she doesn't actually really want to.
Eve turns over and almost immediately falls asleep. She doesn't dream of anything.