Rotten things happen in threes in Florence's family, so when she's fired by her best friend and left by her husband in the space of a single afternoon, she knows there is yet more trouble brewing. And when her son Monty returns from his gap year Down Under it's only too clear what, or who, that trouble is. Then the plan to turn her crumbling home into a tea room hits a snag, the macramé at her sister's house starts to seriously unravel, and why is her doctor leaving so many messages? Enter Will, a mysterious handyman with a secret stash of chocolate truffles, and soon life – with all its hiccups – is just her cup of tea. A bittersweet story about life, living and the importance of afternoon tea.
Author
Sarah-Kate Lynch is quite a cranky journalist of several decades who prefers making things up to recording them accurately. This is not very good if you are a journalist, which may explain (a) the crankiness and (b) why she now writes novels. She also writes two columns in the New Zealand Woman's Day, New Zealand's best-selling weekly magazine. One is about nothing and the other is about travel. Sarah-Kate lives in a cliff top house on the wild west coast of New Zealand's North Island with a lovely dog called Ginger and a husband called Ted. Oh, hang on, no, that's not right. The dog is called Ted and the husband is Ginger.
