Is there any Tea?

Meinwen went home to have her supper and do whatever it is that single people without televisions do on a Sunday Night – listen to their crystal radio, I suppose – and Winston and I walked round to his garage with the portal. I was rather glad he survived the day, if truth be told, since he is a useful chap to have about. Not that that I trust him as far as I can spit; you can never truly trust an elf, I don't think. A leopard never changes his shorts.

I settled up with him (cash in hand to avoid the tax – a sin that counts as theft but doesn't even affect the afterlife of an elf -- Winston is all too aware of the afterlife awaiting him – and we loaded the portal into the van and headed off to the Manor. We detoured past Offley Street to see all the flashing lights. They'd closed off the whole road and had even begun to set up an incident room despite the place being less than a mile from the police station on High Street. They'd probable declare the whole family missing unless the corpse in the cellar had been the mother and I knew Winston and Meinwen would keep the secrets we'd uncovered.

The Manor gates were open so Winston was able to drive me right to the stable yard and help me stash the portal in the same dreary workshop we'd started studying the doll's house in. We set the portal facing the wall and hefted the tool bench against it. No-one was coming in that way. I bid him adieu and went into the kitchen where Harold was sat at the table eating a sandwich and watching the local news.

"Look at this," he said. "An anonymous tip led police to a house with a couple of corpses in."

"Oh?" I said. "How tedious for them. Is there tea in the pot?"