Rowan shoved the tray of mugs and plates onto the counter by the sink, carefully avoiding the soapy water spilled in splishes and splashes on the floor. Prim was in full swing with the dishrag and brush, scrubbing tea stains from cups, dried foam from mugs, and the dried bits of the now past lunch from a precarious stack of plates and bowls.
‘Give it a rest, Prim!’ Rowan urged her friend. ‘Here, have a seat,’ she went on, pulling a chair out from the kitchen table. ‘I’ll just put on a full kettle for some tea. You set out the honey. And grab some of those crispy nut cookies Iris set in the pantry. Mmmm mmm, they looked good for dunking is what I’m thinking.’ She fetched water in the largest kettle, intending to use what was left from the tea-making to heat up the wash and rinse waters. ‘We can tackle the dishes and such after a bit of a treat and a rest-up.’ She laughed and shook her head. ‘Besides, I have to tell you how old Granny got hold of our Miz Penny and was sizing her up to join the Greenhill brood.’
The door was slightly open to the side yard of the Inn, off to the left, where the garden was. Sounded like Cook talking. Brrrr! There was a cold draft scurrying through the opening in little gusts.
‘Making tea!’ Rowan called out in a loud voice. ‘Come in out of the cold, why don’t you and warm up!’
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