“I remembered to put sugar in it this time,” said my mum, as she handed a steaming mug of tea to Flossie.
Wait – yesterday Flossie drank a mug of tea with neither sugar nor complaint?
“Yes. I often drink tea without sugar, if I haven’t any to hand.” She confessed this in a remarkably matter-of-fact tone, considering my ensuing horror.
Every relationship is based on trust, on certainty, on specific immutables. In our case: how we, respectively, take our tea. And now I discover that Flossie has been lying to me all along.
If she’s deceived me about – of all things – tea, how can I ever trust her again? How can I be sure that she likes fish, as she claims?
And if tea and fish are in doubt… well, frankly, what’s left?