In a novel I’m reading two young British men travel to Spain in 1937 to help win World War II. Condition are poor and they both often go without basic needs. Hardly a page passed but what one doesn’t suggest having a cup of tea. The other agrees and suggests two lumps of sugar, or “I’ll get the spoons.” Of course there is no tea, nor is there any sugar or spoons.
When the older one returns to London he uses the key to his parent’s house and let himself in. His father weeps with joy at seeing him. When his mother comes down from upstairs she says: “Son, you’ve lost so much weight. You must be starving. I’ll fix you something.” “Mum. I’ve been starving for a year. A few more minutes won’t matter. I would rather have a cup of tea.”
I didn’t anticipate the last statement. I put the book down and brewed myself a cup of tea. It has never tasted better.
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