Bloomers and Bodices: November Short Story
Ambrose had the feeling that the Extraordinary General Meeting of the Board of Grace Emporium was spiralling out of control. In all his years as Chairman, this was a first. Must be getting old, he thought as he listened to the increasingly angry exchanges between his two sons. Miss Phelps had abandoned her scribbles and looked hot and ill at ease as she gazed helplessly in his direction. He mimed raising a cup of tea, and was relieved when she slammed her shorthand pad on the boardroom table and fled the room.
They were still in full flow when Gladys, pushing a trolley through the heavy oak door, shouted “Tea’s up gentlemen, and by the way, Miss Phelps sends ‘er apologies. She’s gone ‘ome, she came over all poorly again.”
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Boadicea's Chariot 