Back in my office, I find a tray waiting for me, draped with a white teacloth smelling of just-laundered.
just-laundered.A quick check underneath offers a double round of sandwiches made with hand-cut ham and crusty bread surely cut from an hour-fresh loaf. A quartet of cherry tomatoes. A chopped stalk of celery. A pot of horseradish sauce. A slice of… I sniff… chocolate and orange drizzle cake… A green-and-red apple of the sort that would have induced Adam to divorce Eve. A handful of walnuts and a chunk of cheese. All presented on fine white porcelain with a napkin folded to a neat triangle on the side.
Poking my head out of the door, I catch Francis’ eye and wink. “If Charlotte ever gets tired of me, let me have your address. I’ll be in touch.”
She laughs and gives me a casual be-of
