Tea Time

It’s always tea time in the little Gypsy tea room down the road. The sign outside says "Come and have a cup of tea or two and rest your load" It’s a sweet little tearoom, sun streaming through the curtains of lace. The aroma of freshly brewed tea completely fills the place. Signs on the wall explain the making of good tea. The teapot first must be hot. Then always take the pot to the kettle and make the tea in a quality pot. Tables with comfortable chairs are set in a uniform row. The waitress is a colourful Gypsy lady, as if you didn't know. She offers to pour the tea, it is piping hot. Then she hesitates in case you'd rather her not. Once it’s sorted who will pour the tea, she fetches Fine China cups from the shelf. Pretty blue birds adorned our cups, I opted to pour our tea myself. The tea had a flavour all of its own, one of the signs says its home grown. After a while another Gypsy lady appears and places her hand near my own. She asks for a couple of quid, to get our tea leaves read. Or we could get our palms read here instead. Thanks all the same we both said, we are just here for your delicious tea. Disgruntled, she walked away. We left the money to pay still savouring that wonderful delicacy.