9th August, 1894 — By the Augurey
Kieran had been late, and mostly quiet through the meeting – more preoccupied with his glass in hand than talking about the suffrage bill or anything else. Perhaps that was fair. And Jude hadn’t said anything to stop him; but trying not to think about it hadn’t stopped the misgivings from lodging themselves in the back of his mind. He had heard Kieran’s chair scrape up early, so he thought he might have left, but when Jude stepped outside the Augurey, there he was. Waiting, maybe – or just too drunk to fathom getting home.
Jude steeled himself. “Are you alright?” he asked (despite knowing in his gut the honest answer was no). And it was a whole week out from the full moon, so that couldn’t be the cause tonight for his looking so worse for wear; nd besides, he could smell the alcohol on him from here. He wished that were more of a surprise. (And even if it wasn’t – every time he had to witness it, it still felt a little worse somehow. Maybe even more now, because Kieran knew how he cared.)
So it was less the fact that he was clearly drunk that concerned Jude, and more the idea of how much steady drinking today it must have taken him to get there.
Jude steeled himself. “Are you alright?” he asked (despite knowing in his gut the honest answer was no). And it was a whole week out from the full moon, so that couldn’t be the cause tonight for his looking so worse for wear; nd besides, he could smell the alcohol on him from here. He wished that were more of a surprise. (And even if it wasn’t – every time he had to witness it, it still felt a little worse somehow. Maybe even more now, because Kieran knew how he cared.)
So it was less the fact that he was clearly drunk that concerned Jude, and more the idea of how much steady drinking today it must have taken him to get there.
