Alcohol is the anaesthesia by which we endure the operation of life- George Bernard Shaw

To alcohol! The cause of, and the solution to, all of life's problems- Matt Groening

Some mornings it just doesn't seem worth it to gnaw through the leather straps- Emo Phelps

Home was.........good.

Bed was really good.

Duvet was really really good.

These were the first initial thoughts of Elizabeth Gardiner as she awoke.

Then she wondered why on earth someone had shoved cardboard in her mouth or possibly polystyrene whilst she was sleeping.

Slowly, very slowly realisation sank in as she began to remember what had happened the night before.

This did not mean that she no longer had questions. These included but were not limited to:

What exactly happened last night?

Why did I drink so much?

Why on earth did Collins propose?

What exactly did I say to him?

Why do I remember Darcy being really close to me?

How did I get home?

Why, why, why did I drink so much?

What time did I get home?

What time is it now?

And, since she had discovered that it was in fact rather late in the morning what on earth was she going to tell the Giordana's?

Also, was it too late to call in sick and would everyone know exactly why she wasn't turning up?

The answer to all these questions came back to the issue of once again of what had happened last night?

Also, who would even have the answers to these questions?

She had slept well except she didn't really feel as though she had. In fact, anyone looking at her would certainly think she had slept badly. The only sign that she had in fact slept well was the fact that she had managed to sleep through her alarm, telephone calls and at least three messages being left on her mobile given the frequency at which the red light was flashing.

Sighing she made her way out of bed cursing the fact that with all the advantages the scientific community had made they had yet to make a product that could get rid of hangovers effectively.

"I believe," she could hear her Father's voice in her ear, "that they have, and it is otherwise known as non alcoholic beer."

Sighing, she remembered times when she had drunk far more but then rationalised that she had never exactly found out what exactly was in those cocktails but she would bet good money that they contained more units of alcohol than a pint of Guinness.

Slowly as her body became accustomed to the condition she had put it in she made her way downstairs and to her main phone which was also flashing red with the promise of messages.

Wearily she pressed the button allowing it to play knowing that these messages were not about to cheer up the so far thoroughly miserable morning.

Except ten minutes later, yes she had to go through ten whole minutes of messages, she had been proved wrong. One message had made her smile.

"Hi, Lizzie. I'm really sorry about the other night. It's me uh me George. George Wickham. Look I'm really sorry but as I entered I got a really important phone call about a source. I know this seems really unfair to you but I didn't know if I would have another opportunity. Talking about other opportunities, I was wondering if I would be given a second chance? Being the wonderful, kind, fabulous, forgiving and sexy person that you are- opps sorry sexy isn't relavent- but you are by the way- I know you'll say yes."

There was a shuffling noise in the background.

"I know you didn't give me your number and I'm honestly not some crazy stalker type person but I really wanted the opportunity to explain. If you think this is creepy and weird- please don't- but if you do I'll forget everything. You just say the word and it's forgotten. See! Who are you? Who am I? What is this plastic object in my hand? What's plastic?"

She laughed.

"Ok now that I've properly blown all chances with you I'd really better hang up. But if I haven't please call me. I promise it'll go better."

There was a clicking sound as he hung up and Lizzie smiled all over again before pressing play again and smiling again.

Unfortunately not all the messages that had been left had this affect on her. Most of them made her wish that she was a very long way away.

"Ziz. Don't worry Michael explained everything. I know you are but I got someone to cover you. You owe Marnie a big favour when you get back she wanted to tell you but she'd probably just settle for your white chocolate pancakes. Everything is chaos here, I know, what else is new but I've got to go."

It was Fea the restaurants general go to girl. Too clumsy to be a waitress or chef she had been given the general role of seating hostess when Mama Giordana was busy or was in charge of making everything run smoothly.

It sounded like an important job but in actual fact the family general took care of everything themselves and the job had been created to give her something to do, a fact which Fea was all too aware.

"Hey Ziz. You are so lucky you are not in today. My head is pounding and nobody can make a hangover breakfast like you. Anyway thought I ought to warn you; Mama is crazy. We took the phone away from her but you know what she is like. She is allowing you to have this day off but only after much convincing and I think you'll be receiving a lecture from her. Sorry. Also I am supposed to pass on the message that there will be a Family meeting tomorrow and you must be there. This is not negotiable."

She could practically hear the sound of him rolling his eyes as she waited for the next message.

"Lizzie, how are you feeling?" Dan's voice was full of concern. "Charlie helped me get you home. I picked up some Paracetamol for you from the all night pharmacy, I left it on the table and some vitamins that are supposed to help. Call me if you need to. Remember we all love you and nobody at last night is worth crying over."

Crying? What on earth was Dan talking about? Still, at least she knew how she had managed to get home.

Darcy was, once again, grateful to his organisation skills and his time management. The fact that he was so well prepared meant that he had already written his article for Saturday and that he did not need to go into work. In theory he should go to the office to catch up on things but it wasn't strictly necessary. At least for him.

Instead he could just sit and wallow in his misery.

Except for the fact that his supposed best friend wouldn't let him.

"Hello." Charlie practically bounced into the study where Darcy was reading over his work. "Now I remember why I prefer to stay at your place. So much more convenient than my place."

"Yes well that's why I gave you a key."

Darcy had honestly forgotten that Charles had come home with him and now realised why his back was so sore, as he had given way to his old habit of falling asleep on his study sofa.

"Useful last night especially when you're bloody best friend disappears. Where did you go, anyway? I had to get a taxi back from Lizzie's so I had to come here otherwise who knows how much it would have cost."

To be honest Darcy wasn't listening to his best friend and could barely make out all the words he was saying but one particular word did catch his attention.

"Lizzie?"

"I had to help her brother's friend get her home, you met him, Dan? She was pretty out of it."

"Right."

Darcy flicked down the screen of the laptop without actually turning it off; the electronic light was hurting his eyes.

"Apparently she wasn't the only one." Charlie muttered. "Seems like from what I heard that everyone got pretty shit-wrecked last night. Sign of a good party in my opinion."

"Shit-wrecked?"

"Thought I could pull it off." Charlie shrugged at him.

"No." Darcy shook his head and the winced.

"You know, I think that you're right about Jane. I mean she just fled out of there. I don't know. I'll need to think about it for awhile. Caroline said something."

"Right." Darcy didn't have much of an idea what Charlie was talking about. He was still hoping that more of last night would come back to him. He was also wondering why he remembered so little of it.

That answer was about to become clear as he moved his leg which was starting to cramp and felt a glass bottle fall next to his feet.

Bending down he saw that he had finished off a rather good single malt whiskey. And apparently alone. Which meant that it had definitely not been a good night.

Both our hero and heroine spent the remaining part of the day feeling rather sorry for themselves.

However the following day shows the difference between the two characters.

Darcy was busy making plans, talking about getting away for a while and spending time with the some family, ready to change the future. In between what some people might see as a very Zen process he plotted what to do with Charlie, what to do with Elizabeth and what to do with pretty much everyone else. He also hurled a lot of abuse at his editor despite the fact that he would be at the office.

Elizabeth was still fretting and feeling sorry for herself wondering what the family meeting would be about. They hadn't had one in a long time.

In fact the last one there had been had been when a cousin had admitted it was gay and at least four members of the family had cried.

Although there was no reason to be so worried she had the distinct feeling that this meeting was going to go specifically worse.

It was.

Yes people may have cried after the last family meeting but that was merely a few Italian women being dramatic.

This time the effects had been much greater. In short it had ended a business agreement that had been in place since before Lizzie had finished university.

She had officially left the restaurant. Except of course she hadn't. Because she couldn't just leave but had to stay until a replacement had been found. She had known this but had been hoping that she would be able to find a replacement before they knew she was leaving.

It had started off in typical dramatic fashion with Maria Giordana shrieking as soon as she arrived. Ziz was very grateful she had Michael for support.

"There she is!" Hands were thrown up in the air in the typical Italian way.

She wished she could hide or somehow shrink into herself so no one could find her, maybe disappear into the shadows.

"I hear you have some big news to tell me. But what I don't understand is why Paul is so confused with your answer? I mean surely you would not have said no?"

"Mama." Michael muttered under his breath knowing that she already knew the answer.

"He is confused no?" She raised her eyebrows in that ever so careful innocent expression of hers.

"No," Ziz muttered.

"No?"

"No."

"But why? I don't see why you cannot say yes."

"I can't." Her voice was still small and meek.

"Why?"

"I can't."

There was no possible way that Elizabeth could tell Maria Giordana that she did not like Paul Collins or what he stood for and particularly his strong beliefs. Given that Paul was catholic as was Maria this was not a topic she wished to broach.

She certainly couldn't mention all this issues she had with religion.

"Elizabeth Gardiner! I despair of you!" There followed a torrent of Italian, English and French which even Michael had difficulty understanding exactly what he was saying. "You must marry him." Were the last words he caught.

"No I can't." Ziz had reverted to Italian as well.

"You must!"

"No." She shook her head sadly, wishing she didn't have to hurt this wonderful woman who she had known for so long.

"And what will I tell Sarah now?"

"Tell?" Michael and Ziz shared dubious glasses given that they only Sarah they knew was Sarah Gardiner and she had been dead for at least eighteen months.

"She will be so disappointed. All she wanted was for you to meet a nice man and settle down with a good job. And look at you, I mean your brother is with that nice young girl Kirsten but off trying to get his head blown off. And now you, with such a good job, just turned down the one man who asked you. Oh, I despair."

Michael glanced sideways at Ziz with the nearest flicker of his eyes towards the ceiling but the movement was large enough for his mother to catch it.

"And you," she rounded on him. "You I've just about given up on. But at least I have grandchildren, thanks to your brother! Poor, poor Sarah."

If Ziz had been anyone else or it had been any other situation Michael might have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all or commented that Sarah would have no clue whether or not she had grandchildren. But he didn't.

Maria was aware the neither was going to say anything. "Frederico. Frederico you must come here at once."

Used to these demands her husband slowly shuffled his way into the room. "Yes?"

"You must talk to her. I am at my wit's end." She shuffled out of the room still muttering in Italian.

"Let me guess." His accent was much thicker than his wife's and he spoke much slower. "My wife wants you to marry Paul Collins?"

Ziz nodded curious to what he was going to say.

"Thoughts Michael?" He turned to his son.

Michael shrugged not used to seeing this side of his father. Frederico watched the pair.

"Well I think it is the most ridiculous thing that I have ever heard of."

Ziz smiled and let a breath of air out taking a small step forward.

Frederico also stepped forward, smiling his wide Italian smile. "I think, my dear girl that you are being squashed here and I personally know that the great man that your father was, he certainly would not have wanted you to marry that man and I am absolutely certain that your mother would have felt the same way."

Ziz felt tears slowly come to her eyes but pushed the feeling back. Frederico leaned forward and gently patted her arm.

"Well is it done?" Maria was back sweeping it to the room, her gaze bearing down on them.

"Maria, I think we need to have a little talk."

"Actually I think I need to talk to both of you." Ziz spoke up.

Michael took this as his cue to leave but being a Giordana he didn't stray too far. Listening at the door he heard a loud series of wails from his mother along with chastising from his father and then chastising from his mother. He struggled to hear anything from Ziz but then she was probably speaking in normal tones of voice.

He jumped and picked up a stack of books as they left the room to hide what he was doing but he caught the faint smirk on his father's aged face.

His mother certainly wasn't smiling and Ziz looked rather like she had been crying. He knew immediately what was going on.

Ziz nodded in silent confirmation to his unanswered question.

"So you're leaving?" For some reason, and maybe it was because she was in that mind frame Michael sounded very young to her, rather like the confused child who is scared and wants reassurance.

"Yeah."

"Because of Collins? Because of Mother?"

"No."

"Ziz."

"No. I just need to be away for awhile."

"Right." There was a very long pause before he added. "I'm coming with you."

"No. Michael, I couldn't do that to you and the family."

"You're going to need some help. And it's not doing anything to the family; I was going to leave anyway."

There was a long pause whilst both of them were wondering what she was thinking.

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"Yeah. I'll need my best friend. And when it all goes horribly wrong I can just blame you."

"Positive thinking there Ziz."

"Absolutely."

Ziz was beginning to get organised with everything planned and arranged.

Monday she rang George Wickham and told him she would give him another chance.

Tuesday he rang her and they agreed to go out on Wednesday.

Wednesday morning he cancelled on her due to a story, again.

Thursday he tried to rearrange but suddenly the phone call ended.

Friday she tore up his number.

It was not going to plan.

The week dragged. It was bound to. Not only were there no large parties booked in but on the whole the restaurant was fairly empty. This extra time which would otherwise be spent talking or cleaning was now spent by the staff glaring daggers at Ziz.

This was not completely unsurprising. She had hoped that everyone would cheer her on but people were generally muttering and claiming that she was 'rather leaving them in the lurch'. She knew Michael hadn't even told them involvement.

Change had never exactly been favoured at the restaurant and the fact that the Giordana's were now looking for a chef potentially from outside the immediate family.

Feeling very unsettled and alone Ziz had to wonder if there was anything that would happen which would make things change.

She doubted it.

She was proved wrong. Absolutely 100% wrong. Something happened. Something very large happened.

Charlotte Luca announced her engagement. To Paul Collins. And therefore the subsequent removal of herself to Italy to be with her husband.

Lizzie was no longer the topic of conversation but she was not grateful for the alternative subject.

I'm sorry it's late. I've been ill again. I hate it so much. Don't have the time for it and always seem to be picking all sorts up. :(

Sorry, rant over. On the plus side I hope to be creating lots of new stories including possibly some regency stuff. I have very short time left of official education before I go on study leave! Very scared.

About the quotes at the top I try to pick the best one but at times I think two or three work. Please let me know what you think, just a few words will make my day.