Chapter Text
“What news do you have from Timothy, my dear?” Susan’s mother asks, the china teacup settling back into place on its saucer with a chink. Susan wraps cold fingers around her own cup and looks out onto the windswept high street.
“The foreign office keeps him very busy in Beirut,” she says. He hasn’t rung in a fortnight. She hasn’t missed the calls.
“It seems,” her mother sniffs. “That with his promotion you could afford not to have a lodger.”
Susan sighs. “Miss Stewart is a friend, mother,” she says. And perhaps something more. Though her mother needn’t know that.