I was in kitchen preparing dinner when Graham called from office and said he would be coming home early as he had something important to tell us.
Worried that it might be bad news, I asked him to tell it right away but he calmed me down saying, "Don't worry, it's not bad news," and hung up.
"I'm sorry, what was that you just said, Mrs. Pettington?"
What a tiresome woman. I had just now been distracted from listening to her by the way she snapped her fingers at Kisula and then gave him a distasteful look when he refilled her coffee cup.
"I said, Mr. Woolston, that I hardly think we need worry about these rumblings from the tribal huts. England has held this protectorate in Tanzania since the war, and we will do so as long as the London cafés need their coffee."