Time for tea
I went for an impromptu tea at the Wolsleley (how do you spell that? I always get carried away with the Ls) last night and there was a brilliant lady in there, having tea with her children (thus reinforcing her widowly status), cramming in eclairs with a be-jewelled and painted claw.
With her improbably red hair, she looked like a cross between Lucille Ball and Baby Jane.
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