By Amy Ephron
Rosemary Fell was once born into privilege. She has wealth, well–connected acquaintances, and a good-looking fiance, Philip Alsop. ultimately she has every thing she wants.
It is then, in a second of beneficence, that Rosemary invitations Eleanor Smith, a penniless younger girl she sees lower than a streetlamp within the rain, into her domestic for a cup of tea. whereas there, Rosemary sees Eleanor trade an unmistakable glance with Philip, and he or she sends Eleanor on her method. yet she can't undo this opportunity stumble upon, and it ends up in a tempestuous and all–consuming love triangle –– until eventually the tides of conflict throw all their lives off balance.
Inspired by way of a vintage Katherine Mansfield brief tale, A Cup of Tea engages with its shiny –– and infrequently fun –– forged of characters, fabulous interval element, exceptional evocation of the doubtful days of worldwide battle I, and delightfully spare and picturesque feel of story.
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Additional info for A Cup of Tea: A Novel of 1917
Take one more step inside. Didn’t your mother tell you? ” She smiled at her. “I’m Josie Kennedy,” she said. ” She posed—she put one hand against her head and slouched to the side. ” Josie started to leave. “Tell Miss Wetzel you don’t want meals except Sunday—Sunday, her sister cooks. ” Eleanor nodded. ” There was a pattern here with these women for she’d felt that she could barely get a word in with any of them. “Eleanor. ” Josie repeated after her. “Eleanor. ” And Josie walked out into the night and left Eleanor standing in the doorway looking at the dark but cozy, in a modest, disheveled kind of way, interior of the house.
The streets were crowded with taxis, carriages, people on their way home on foot or running to catch the streetcar, women with children hanging on their skirts making hurried stops in food-stores and the apothecary shop on the corner which closed conveniently a half-hour after everyone else. The street lamps were just coming on as Eleanor came out of the hat shop and found Philip’s carriage parked on the corner. He’d let his driver go and was holding the reins of the two chestnut mares himself, a driver’s cap pulled down over his forehead.
Said Mrs. Mayhew as though her friend had said something untoward. The two of them giggled. Caitlin looked bored, awkward, slumped in her chair in a perfect teenage adolescent slouch. “But I was thinking, said Mrs. Mayhew, “what if I could talk to Mama! I always wanted to know what happened to that ruby brooch. Look around, Caitlin. You have to do this, too. ” Caitlin looked completely disinterested in the idea of a new hat. “You know that Daddy wants you to look nice,” said Mrs. Mayhew and turned back to her friend.