Untitled.IV Immediately. .... To flick open the paper at the sports pages and update himself on the latest in the cricketing world. Mary-Jane had too grown up in a typically English nest. It comes little surprise then that she too had been exposed, and become attune to, the custom concerns, emotions and sense of pious priotitising towards cricket and tea that fellow Rogers, Cuthberts and Gregory's experienced and made them tick. Such a useful insight was further greatened with a six year lesson of marriage with Jack, that had allowed her to entwine with it the daily routine and unique histrionics that his #life possessed. Therefore, when he came home at 7:47 he would find, like a Bedouin seeking water in a well, a finely brewed pot of tea waiting hot on the table for when he came home. 'Good evening, love' he said first, getting himself a mug beelining towards the pot. While the presence of tea, his nectar of #life, was itself no Martin Luther Jr, the smell of sausages most certainly was, and it got Jack dreaming...