“Tea? Before I even asked for one?” Harold was pleasantly surprised but took the proffered cup and saucer. “Thank you Devious.”
When he finished it, the empty cup was whisked away to be replaced by a full one, sugar already added and a little froth in the centre still rotating from the stir.
This went on all day.
“Pinch me Jasfoup,” he said. “I must be dreaming. No sullen looks, protestations of being too busy or grumbling about menial tasks.”
“From whom?” Jasfoup pinched him.
“Devious.” Harold rubbed his arm. “You didn’t have to pinch me that hard.”
“You asked me to. Devious is on vacation, anyway. You’ve got an impostor.”
“I have?” Harold looked carefully at his servant. “You’re not Devious,” he said. “Who are you?”
“Anna, sir.” The woman, indistinguishable from the imp apart from the increase of 4’ in height, the skin colour (Caucasian rather than grey) and the species (human instead of imp), smiled. “I’m from the Domestic Agency.”
“I’m glad you pointed that out, Jasfoup, said Harold, smiling at the woman. “I might have embarrassed myself by not noticing.”
© Rachel Green 2007