The front door to our flat slams shut, signalling Alicia’s return from the green corner shop.
“Rachel, do you want tea?” Alicia shouts through my door from the kitchen.
“Yes, please!” At this point in my work process a little bit of caffeine would go a long damn way, even though it is really past when I should be having tea.
“Sugar? Honey? Lemon?” Alicia queries about mix-ins. I consider.
“Sugar and cardamom!” I decide, finally.
“Sugar and what-the-fuck?” She opens my door.
“Cardamom,” I reply. “But actually, nevermind, just sugar.”
“Good, because if you want cardamom you have to get it yourself, since I have no idea what it is.”