The Perfect Cup

In the hour before mayhem crashes into the morning, dawn breaks into the sky. Peter is first up. He flicks on the kettle, throws a teabag into a cup and a slice of bread in the toaster. He downs the tea in one and rushes out the door with the toast between his teeth, to eat on his way to work.

Next to appear is Nicola. She takes two dishes from the cupboard, fills them with corn flakes and places them on the table with the milk bottle. She yells up the stairs “Tom! Sarah! Are you dressed yet?” They thunder down and slide into the chairs at the table. Nicola fills the kettle and sets it to boil, then joins them. “Have you got your kit for football tonight?” she says to Tom. And to Sarah, “Remember it’s violin practice after school.” “Yes, Mum. Stop fussing.” They both say in unison. Finishing their breakfast, they almost throw their dishes in the sink, grab their coats and bags and dash out the door.” As usual, they are cutting it fine to catch the bus.

Nicola takes the teapot off the shelf and places a generous spoonful of fresh tea leaves into it. She adds water from the just boiled kettle, takes a bone china cup and saucer from the cupboard and sets all three on the table. She washes up and heats a couple of croissants in the oven. By the time she sits down a few minutes later, the tea has brewed to perfection. As she sinks into a chair and savours a sip from her cup, she breathes a sigh. Aarh…