* * * *
I tried to push the door open but it was locked and I couldn’t knock because I was holding the tray. George opened it with a sneer before I started back for the kitchen.
“We’ll talk about this again some other time, George.” I saw Sayer put some documents back into the envelope and pushed it aside to make space for the tray. “Don’t worry,” he stopped me when I started pouring the tea. “Sit down, I’ll do it.”
I sat in the same chair George had left, watched Sayer serve the tea, and pondered on the idea of this simple routine repeating itself over and over again for the rest of my life.