Tuesday, 27 March 2012

Let's Have a Cuppa Tea

Let’s Have a Cuppa Tea

Peter was a bastard of a man. He was one of those men who you could hear a mile off but wished you hadn’t because every second that then passed was ruined by the fact you knew he was on his way. His words as he swaggered into work every day would be; ‘Let’s have a cuppa tea’, which in truth translated as; ‘Sue, go make me a cup of tea if you know what’s good for you.’ The boss hated him, the cleaners hated him, the muffin man hated him and the women loathed him. He was under the impression he was a ladies man but God knows where he got that idea from. He’d only once been seen with a woman on a night out and she was paralytic at the time, bless her cotton socks.

Anyway, as soon as Sue had brought him his cuppa tea he would ask for a saucer, pour the tea from the cup into the saucer and proceed to drink his tea out of that very same saucer. The guy was a fucking lunatic but due to the sad fact that he always turned up for work and never put a foot wrong (his job was sharpening pencils) there were no good grounds upon which to sack him. Every single fucking morning it would be the same old fucking tune; ‘Let’s have a cuppa tea’. ‘Let’s have a cuppa tea.’ The sound of him saying it would resonate in your head for the rest of the day. You’d get home from work and your kids would be telling you about their day but all you would hear was; ‘Let’s have a cuppa tea.’

In fact, it was so unbearable that on the 25th of April, Mary, who was going through a tough divorce, lost it big time and stabbed him fifteen times with one of those things you use to open envelopes. The fella was dead within minutes and the office was in shock. Honestly, half of it was the sheer relief they’d never have to hear those words again; ‘Let’s have a cuppa tea.’ The other half, well, it isn’t nice seeing a man murdered in cold blood. To add to that it was completely out of Mary’s character. She was sixty-five and retiring in two weeks’ time to emigrate to Malta. She’d volunteered at the homeless shelter for half her life and helped a cat out of a tree the week before. All things equal she was your regular Good Samaritan. Just goes to show what people can be driven to when someone goes on and on and on and on.

Nonetheless, they had a problem because, when it comes down to it, no one wants to go to prison, even if they do let you have Sky+. So they hatched a plan. Mary was to wrap up the body in her anorak, Phillipa was to clean up the blood and Sue was to hold open the doors. Charlie had to carry the body to his car while Harvey kept lookout. When that was done they would all go with Charlie in his Nissan Micra and dump the body in The Thames. This they did and the plan worked to a T. They got back to the office and danced around. They mocked Peter by singing over and over again; ‘Let’s have a cuppa tea, let’s have a cuppa tea, let’s have a cuppa tea.’ It was a joyous moment for all involved. As for the outsider, well, it was quite disturbing.

The weeks went by and the seasons changed. Life was bliss without those words; ‘Let’s have a cuppa tea’ ringing in their ears. Mary’s divorce went smoothly and Sue won The Lottery. As for the death of Peter; they weren’t sorry. His memory had almost been erased from their minds; that was until his replacement, Henry, turned up for his first day. He parked his car in the staff car park, straightened his tie and ascended the stairs to the office. He paused, took a deep breath before opening the office door. He walked in and with a smile on his face blurted out; ‘Let’s have a cuppa tea.’ Charlie died of a heart attack and Sue jumped out of the window. 

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