It's Tea Time

Somewhere in London, in a well hidden room, a small group of people were drinking together.

“Ah!” Simon replaced his half-emptied glass on the table. “There’s nothing like a nice blend of summer fruits.”

“Or a straightforward orange squash,” said Pamela. She raised her glass and smiled.

Alistair was quivering a little, staring down into his glass of raspberry cordial.

Linda wiped away the blackcurrant juice from her mouth.

“Everything all right there, Alistair?”

He looked up. “Yes, of course. It’s just…” He glanced briefly at the raspberry cordial and away again. “I can’t stop worrying that someone’s going to find us. That we’re going to get caught!”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Don’t be daft, Al. It’s been months and we’d had no trouble at all. Nobody even knows the room’s here. We’re perfectly safe.”

It was at this point there was a violent banging on the door.

“Open up!” yelled a voice. “We know you’re in there, you foul beasts. Open up in the name of the Queen!”

The four drinkers exchanged panicked looks.

“It can’t be…” said Pamela. “Surely it can’t be.”

The door was abruptly kicked open and a group of people in brown tunics with milk white trimmings surged in.

“Oh, my God—it is!” cried Alistair. “It’s the Tea-Drinkers!”

He attempted to make a run for it, but one of the Tea-Drinkers grabbed him—the silver spoons on his upper arms marking him as the Chief.

“Now, then. You’d better behave, sonny, or…” The Chief Tea-Drinker waved his set of ceremonial sugar tongs. “One lump or two?”

Alistair went limp and the Chief shoved him back towards his companions.

“Right, that’s better.”

The Chief gazed round at the four of them.

“Caught in the very act! It’s the Tower for you.”

He shook his head.

“Best place for you—your kind revolt me.”

Linda had her head held high and her shoulders back. “We can’t help not liking tea.”

Simon nodded vigorously. “Someday people will be free to drink whatever they want! Free to refuse a cup of tea without the person offering looking puzzled and saying: ‘Are you sure?’”

The Chief made a sound of disgust. “Not in my lifetime, I hope.”

He gestured to his fellow Tea-Drinkers, who hurried to surround and grab the transgressors.

Linda and Simon stood there defiant, Pamela seemed resigned and Alistair had his head bowed.

The Chief sneered at them.

“You’d better believe there’s going to be no more fruit juices where you’re going...”

He gave the signal and the Tea-drinkers began dragging their prisoners towards the door.

“You lot are all in very hot water.”