Loose Tea Lady

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Loose Tea Lady

“Mum, meet Lucy.” Paul’s opening line was simple enough. To Penny, his mother, whilst they were words that she was expecting, the girl in question, at first glance, was not.
“Hi, Mrs Phillips – lovely to meet you. I was beginning to think Paul was keeping me away from you.”
“Yes, I was thinking the same,” Penny’s tone was vaguely patronising as she raised her eyebrows towards Paul but John, Paul’s father, knew that the subtext was that Penny now knew why she hadn’t met Paul’s girlfriend of over a year; the previous one had come to see them in Lincoln frequently. Lucy detected the slightest hint of a northern accent in Penny; Paul had none because he’d gone to boarding school which had knocked it out of him.

Dinner with his parents in London was always to be a fraught occasion for Paul. Not being frequent visitors to the place where he had decided he wanted to live and work, Penny and John always had a thousand complaints about their journey or the people they’d met or the weather or, well anything which could only be attributed to this dreadful place called London. He knew also that this time there would be the additional problem of Lucy. Lucy was gorgeous, but not what the Phillips’ expected of their ‘Oxford’ son. He’d met her at work.

“..and Luce, this is my mother and father.” John Phillips, whilst understanding his wife’s obvious resistance to the girl with the estuarial accent and the forthright manner – she’d leapt from her seat and was now vigorously shaking his hand – was not quite so instantly judgemental; besides, the girl was pretty, if unconventional.
“Hello, Lucy, nice to meet you too.”

After a short, uncomfortable wait, the four were shown to their table in the back half of Annies Restaurant in Mortlake – Paul and Lucy usually ate at the Treehouse across the road but Paul felt the heavy driftwood furniture and the kitsch art over the fireplace would only entice derisory remarks from his mother; Annies was more formal and traditional. He was beginning to regret his decision after seeing his account balance earlier that day, however; there may not be enough to pay a bill of the size of the one he would be likely to amass at Annies. Paul’s hand grasped Lucy’s as they followed the waitress – he gave what she thought was a reassuringly loving squeeze as they parted to be seated.

“What is Merguez?” asked Penny staring apparently incomprehensively at the menu, “I’ve never heard of it.” She’d started.
“Oh, they’re really cool Mrs Phillips – they’re sort of spicy sausages – I think they’re from Africa – that’s right isn’t it Paul?”
“Yes, Merguez means sausage in Arabic – you won’t like them mother, try the soup – it’s cream of mushroom.” Penny didn’t ask about anything else about the food but was obviously slightly put-out by Lucy’s knowledge. She expected Paul to know.

Paul had done his best to warn Lucy about his parents – ‘don’t whatever you do ask about the journey or the hotel they stayed in last night because none of will have been good enough’ – but Lucy wasn’t going to be thwarted because she wanted them to like her. She was in love with Paul and wanted him to marry her; meeting Mr and Mrs Phillips was just another hurdle and she was determined to impress.