Maeve's Times
“She knew how to knot a scarf around her throat so that it didn’t look like a bandage. She would read the Daily Mail at breakfast while he read the Daily Telegraph; their dog waited obediently out in the hall since animals were welcome but not in the dining room. She had nice bright awake eyes and looked as if she might want to have a chat as they ate scrambled eggs and toast, but in her circle she had probably learned early that men aren’t communicative at that hour. So she would look out the w...indow a bit at the seagulls over the harbour, and at the life of the village getting underway, and say nothing.
Every morning he said the same thing when the last cup of coffee had been drained and his mouth carefully wiped for danger of a last lurking crumb. With a rattle of the newspaper, and with the air of a man who has put up with ladies being late and slow and unpredictable all his life he would say, ‘Right, if you’re ready, we might as well push off, what?’ She had always been ready at least ten minutes ahead of him.MoreLess
Every morning he said the same thing when the last cup of coffee had been drained and his mouth carefully wiped for danger of a last lurking crumb. With a rattle of the newspaper, and with the air of a man who has put up with ladies being late and slow and unpredictable all his life he would say, ‘Right, if you’re ready, we might as well push off, what?’ She had always been ready at least ten minutes ahead of him.MoreLess
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