In the Tea Leaves was first published by Sampad and the British Council – inside their 'Inspired by My Museum' anthology in November 2014. The story was one of the winning entries for their international competition of the same name.
In the Tea Leaves
She'd done this a thousand times – so many times, she actually saw his face in her dreams. Garrick they called him, apparently he knew every major male Shakespearean role by heart – or so the theatregoers said. She had never been one for the theatre, found it too rowdy, crawling with vice. She was the moral sort: temperate, prudent and chaste. There was one little temptation, however, which always grasped her heart whenever she came close to this box. That longing that entangled her, that seemed to whisper in her ear, "Take just a little – they'll never know..."
Tea was worth a fortune – she knew that, everybody knew that. Of course, the caddy itself was worth a thousand fold a pinch of black tea. After all, it was made of pure silver and decorated with the aforementioned actor in his most iconic roles. She could never take the whole thing – that, they would notice. The Lady of the house had entrusted her with the key and that gave her all the power. So, every time her fingers gently caressed the lid of the box and she slid the key into the lock, it made her head spin, her throat grow dry.
***
Now, her aged fingers grip tightly around the lid of the vessel and open it sickeningly slowly, so that she can savour every second. There it is, a pile of black foliage, which to her shines brighter than any king's gold. She delicately lifts the tea spoon and fills the pot as to her Mistress' wishes, her guests are only minor nobility today – so one spoonful will do. Now for her pinch – no a spoonful – why not a pocketful? She buries her hand into the tea and shovels it into her pocket.
Someone's watching. Ginny, the youngest housemaid.
"Now, Ginny, you won't go telling no one what you saw, will ya?"
The girl stays frozen by the door; her fist clenched tightly and held closely to her mouth – her face an icy mix of shock and fear.
"You say anythin' to anyone and I can make life hard for you here..."
The statue of ice remains firmly frozen.
"Come, dear. Come here..." The old woman moves to the girl and stretches out her hand to reach for her.
Suddenly, the ice thaws and the girl makes a guttural noise of terror before briskly turning and running wordlessly out of sight...
Tea was worth a fortune – she knew that, everybody knew that. Of course, the caddy itself was worth a thousand fold a pinch of black tea. After all, it was made of pure silver and decorated with the aforementioned actor in his most iconic roles. She could never take the whole thing – that, they would notice. The Lady of the house had entrusted her with the key and that gave her all the power. So, every time her fingers gently caressed the lid of the box and she slid the key into the lock, it made her head spin, her throat grow dry.
***
Now, her aged fingers grip tightly around the lid of the vessel and open it sickeningly slowly, so that she can savour every second. There it is, a pile of black foliage, which to her shines brighter than any king's gold. She delicately lifts the tea spoon and fills the pot as to her Mistress' wishes, her guests are only minor nobility today – so one spoonful will do. Now for her pinch – no a spoonful – why not a pocketful? She buries her hand into the tea and shovels it into her pocket.
Someone's watching. Ginny, the youngest housemaid.
"Now, Ginny, you won't go telling no one what you saw, will ya?"
The girl stays frozen by the door; her fist clenched tightly and held closely to her mouth – her face an icy mix of shock and fear.
"You say anythin' to anyone and I can make life hard for you here..."
The statue of ice remains firmly frozen.
"Come, dear. Come here..." The old woman moves to the girl and stretches out her hand to reach for her.
Suddenly, the ice thaws and the girl makes a guttural noise of terror before briskly turning and running wordlessly out of sight...