“Time for Tea”.
The Hatter casually indicated any number of possible chairs, each with an equally dazzling choice of embroidered or quilted cushions and a plethora of wonderfully soft, promisingly warm knee wraps.
“Might I stand?”
“You MIGHT, but I cannot comprehend why. Seems a long stretch to the table, bone china and finger food.”
The food did indeed look delicious. Potted meat sandwiches cut into perfect triangular shapes and carefully laid end to end all along the midst of the table, excepting of course where the slovenly form of a sleeping dormouse interrupted an otherwise pristine expanse of Irish linen.
“Is that dormouse a guest?”
The Hatter simply smiled and poured tea into more cups. The tea was exceeding hot, the dormouse shuddered quite perceptibly when Hatter poured some of the delicious Darjeeling onto his tail.
“Do be careful ple………..”
As always the dormouse’s sentence ended with the wholly predictable snore.
“Any China tea?”
The march hares voice was exceeding squeaky, probably resulting from his very high starched white collar and the manner in which Hatter was occasionally inclined to throttle him.
“CHINA?”
Hatter’s voice was quite ear shatteringly loud.
“No tea in China these days, just Spanish suds and violin cases.”
Chuckling to himself quite unnecessarily the Hatter brought over the sweet trolley.
“Perhaps you would prefer some cake? I am told that told that your sort like a slice or two of cake.”
Alice eyed the chocolate cake with intense interest. Worryingly, the cake stared back unblinkingly.
“Milk, cream, sugar, honey?”
March Hare had manage to pry the Hatters fingers from around his throat and was suddenly inclined to be party host. The Hatter seemed to take this presumption in surprising good part, casually continuing to push the dormouse between two slices of heavily buttered wholemeal bread. For his part the dormouse simply slid into place with an indifference bordering on the suicidal.
“Oh yes you did!”
The remark flew into the clearing from a grove of trees not one current bun toss from the tea table, followed by the unmistakable sound of fist striking face.
“Did you hear that?”
“Just the twins arguing. They argue about everything.”
“No they don’t!”
Hatter tutted loadly and reached for the hare’s neck anew!
Trevor, thank you. I must step up
Quite a lovely pleasure in uncertain times
But then….
Aren’t they all uncertain times
So what of certainty?
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