The Flat above Covent Garden Flowrs, Sunday Night

[loverlyviolets]

Well. Of all the oddness she'd experienced in the past few months, today certainly led the pack. First, someone had left a message trying to order ...something from her that she wasn't sure of, but she knew it wasn't any kind of flower, then someone else had told her to keep quiet! As if she'd been talking to anybody anyhow! And then. Well. The nerve. And it only got worse from there.

So now Eliza was doing what any sensible person would do in the face of a day full of pranksters and rudeness: having a nice hot cuppa.

Tea, dammit.

[So very establishy.]