A Case of 'Morgan's Brew'

                  Chapter three

The morning came, with thunderous rumbling, lightning had flashed for several hours, causing no disturbance. But the thunder, it woke George to the quick. Linda slept on, as he slipped out of bed, gathered some clothes, then took a shower. It was 6.45 when he was sitting in the kitchen, giving Morgan his breakfast. A kettle was on the boil, barley cup in the mug, some bread, and ready to toast. Morgan purred as he ate, his tail like a walking stick, vertical, still.

Soon George was sitting down to a hot drink, along with toast and jam. Then as soon as he does, Morgan wants to go out, “alright, come on.” George opens the door. Rain is falling. As he looks further outside, the view has changed. The rain is like a net curtain, the distance is obscure, and the sea vanished. Morgan runs out, George shuts the door. As he comes back into the kitchen, Linda is sitting at the table, “thank you George, this is most welcome.”  She says. “Yes I had hoped it would be “George replies, as he puts the kettle back on the boil, and bread in the toaster.

There is a loud thud in the hall, it is the morning

Newspaper. George and Linda sit and enjoy their breakfast, its not often they have time together.

George was planning to take up a season with the local repertory company, he is pretty good on the boards, used to be a dancer in west end productions, and it was then that a sudden bout of chronic fatigue knocked him out. Linda has to run through her contract, then speak to her solicitor, her venture with, ‘EmphiniaL’ an art magazine aimed at commercial art has been a big boost to her career. George cannot resist the morning news, like his watch, on the hour every hour. So from the hall, he collects the daily blurb, well that’s what he calls it. “Anything interesting George?”  Linda asks, as he sits down. “That proffesor Logan is still in a coma, says he has a fractured skull!” then he reads that the police want to trace his assistant, one, and g.lipton. He avoids telling Linda that bit; it’s made him feel uneasy. Then Linda asks him,

“So when you went down the slip road on foot, didn’t you see anything?” George is slow to answer, then replies, “well, I think Dave the postman saw me!!” he hands the paper to Linda, preferring to eat his toast.

Outside, the rain sounds heavy; there are thunderous rumblings in all directions. Morgan can be heard crying outside, “meaoooow”. Linda rushes to open the kitchen door. He runs in drenched, flicking his paws as he walks into the kitchen, then ‘purrs’ loudly. “Well that’s a right change in the weather.” George sadly declares, as he stares out of the kitchen window. Linda has begun to read the paper, “wow!!” she shouts, “I’ve got a mention in the arts section.”  George enthusiastically applauds. “That’s what you deserve. You worked hard on that portfolio.” he adds, feeling very elated for her. “You spend a lot of time in whatever it is you do, hours on end.” he adds.

Slowly, the Lipton house transforms. Each has plans, though George’s may have slipped into, less than, with the rain that’s still descending, in volumes. He had planned to water the lawn, cut back a hedge, then consume some ‘Morgan’s-Brew’; now the lesser may be the only option.