By launderedlace August 21, in Original Fiction. Sipping tea and nibbling cake, Julie was updating Rachel on her earlier entirely successful meeting with Kate, her Director at work. She gave me a friendly muffled hello, her nose deeply buried in embroidered linen and fabulously gorgeous, trembling, lace. Rachel welcomed back the shimmeringly beautiful heirloom, returned to a pristine state by Julie, and tucked it into a side pocket of her jacket.
They began to have a closer look at their new purchases: another significant pile of extravagant handkerchiefs and four variously-frilled white aprons.
A couple of tables away, the usual waitress, sporting her own magnificent broderie anglaise-trimmed apron, the one identical to those now constantly used by Rachel and Julie, was delivering an order to a female customer. Their attention again focused on the newly acquired linens, quite without warning, the tranquil atmosphere surrounding them was shattered by a huge sneeze, a shriek, and the sound of splintering crockery. Snapping back to reality, the woman gratefully grasped the white fabric, decorated with pink applique, embroidered flowers and tatted lace, then speedily deployed the pretty handkerchief to mask and absorb her thickly dripping snot.
At this moment, both Rachel and the woman recognised each other. The delicate flowers recoiled in response to another loud, messy assault. Collecting it from where it lay on the counter, she laid it next to those she and Rachel had just acquired from Louise: there and then, she decided to suggest a swap, with the waitress being able to choose whichever of the four others she might prefer. In the midst of contemplating this idea, she heard a loud nose-blowing honk from the opposite side of the tearoom.
Walking over, Julie reintroduced herself. The woman, confirming that, yes, she was Denise, checked the newly-soiled state of her handkerchief, then raised it to her nose again.
