Gingerly she runs her tongue over her lower lip, tasting the buttery Lakme Fuschia Fury lipstick Mummy had generously slathered on her thirty minutes ago. Now she can hear her brother’s raspy voice calling her from their drawing-room. The bride viewing party must have arrived.
It was her cue to go into the kitchen and pick up the plastic tray sitting on the Formica counter with its prepared pot of tea, and four Wedgewood China teacups.
