Naomi Randall - Journal
23rd September 1999
In hospital. Again. For once, at least, it was entirely my own fault. Or stupidity... that's probably a more accurate word.
It all started on Sunday. Jake was given a nightclub to run, as
was William, and whoever does the best with their nightclub will
be put in charge of the chantry... Why the two of them are candidates
I don't know. Sure, they may be the most powerful mages outside
of the masters, but William has the maturity of a three year old,
and Jake hasn't exactly proved himself to be the most responsible
person. He has gone up a lot in my estimations since our time travel
escapades though. Before that I thought he was just selfish and
irresponsible, but he really looked after Tom well, and for that
I will be eternally grateful.
So it seemed that Jake was by far the better candidate for the job, and we all decided to pitch in and do whatever we could to help him out. I don't know whether Jake got a total bum deal when it came to nightclub allocation, but so far with ours we've had to deal with drug dealers and illegal boxing matches. Needless to say we turned both down, but it is kind of worrying.
Then Jake gets a call out of the blue from someone on William's
team asking him to meet her for lunch. She comes up with what is
apparently a seemingly reasonable deal, yet buys him a huge meal,
complete with an exceedingly large amount of alcohol, and then leaves
him to it. I don't know how they found out about his... um... eating
problem... but why use such underhanded tactics if you're trying
to help someone out?
So Theo and I go over to the restaurant to help him deal with it. He needed to be on form for the big club night coming up, and that wasn't going to happen if he ate all the food and drank all the beer. While Theo got stuck into a chicken I noticed Jake eyeing up the large jug of beer that had been brought to the table. Without a thought, in order to save him from himself, I picked it up and downed it, practically in one. It may have been okay if I was a regular drinker and could actually handle more than one glass of wine... It would definately have been okay if I had used my brain and countered the effects of the alcohol with my magic. But no. For some reason when my friends are trouble, even if it's something as inconsequential as this, my brain just gets totally bypassed and I start doing bloody stupid things in out of some misguided sense of trying to protect them.
So I threw up, and fell over (possibly not in that order, probably multiple times), then passed out with alcohol poisoning.
I woke up at some point later in hospital, having had my stomach pumped, and feeling like crap. Thankfully I could sort that out fairly quickly and purged the rest of the alcohol from my system. Then I only had disapproving looks from the others to deal with. It was only going to get worse though. I discharged myself and was walking out the ward only to find Laurence coming the other way. It seems they'd decided to call him, in whatever inaccessible region of Scotland he was in at the time, and tell him what had happened.
I may have recovered from my hangover, but I never felt so bad as I did at that moment when he saw me and gave me a Look. And that was before he said anything... The guys did try and defend me as best they could, which wasn't easy given what they had to work with, but they did their best to point out to him that it happened because I was trying to help a friend.
He did give me a hug at least. I know he's only mad at me because he cares, and I did do something really stupid. But I feel like I've screwed up big time with our relationship...
We're at my flat now, he's insisted on cooking me a meal, apparently I still look a bit grey. He's made me go lie on the sofa and rest while he does all the work, but I keep getting the occasional disapproving glance from him every now and then.
I have no idea how I'm going to make this up to him...
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