TROUBLE BREWING (A short story) Part 4 (Conclusion)

After the mistaken caller had been redirected and I’d made Liz a fresh cup of tea the window cleaner arrived. He asked Liz for a bucket of hot water.
‘Well, all right…’ She said taking his bucket. ‘Only don’t blame me if it goes cold on you.’
‘Er-no, no I, won’t,’ the window cleaner looked baffled. I offered him a cup of tea before he got started.
‘Ooh, well I dunno if I should, naah,’ he said.
I was baffled and asked, ‘Why ever not?’
‘Well if I drink the tea the ’ot water in me bucket might go cold.’ He pointed at the bucket Liz had filled from the kettle and the hot tap.
‘Yes,’ Liz spoke. ‘And you can’t blame me because it won’t be my fault!’
‘That’s true,’ nodded the window cleaner.
An idea occurred to me so, inspired, I said, ‘Hey—why don’t you clean the windows first and then drink your tea?’
‘Naah,’ he shook his head. ‘Then the tea will go cold before I get a chance to drink it.’
‘No, wait a minute,’ Liz, looking smug, said. ‘I’ve got the perfect solution…’
In the short pause that followed the window cleaner and I exchanged baffled looks as Liz’s smugness exuded from her like an aura.
‘Well what is it?’ We eventually asked.
‘I’ll make you a cup of tea AFTER you’ve cleaned the windows!’ It was obvious of course.
‘Excellent,’ the window cleaner chirped grinning. ‘An’ I’ll drink it straight away.’
‘Mmm, could I have a cup too, please, Liz?’ I was rude enough to ask.

When the window cleaner had finished cleaning the windows, he joined us for a cup of tea, which stayed hot all the way to the bottom of his cup.
‘Mmm, that was a lovely cup of tea, thank you, missus,’ thanked the window cleaner, his mouth parted in a fixed grin as he clutched his bucket and made for the door.
‘You’re most welcome,’ Liz beamed then closed the door before looking at me.
‘What is it, Liz?’ I asked wondering why she was looking at me that way.
‘Oh I was just thinking that that was the most successful round of tea I’ve had in ages.’
‘Yeah, you’re right,’ I agreed. ‘Me too, I reckon.’ I reckoned returning her look.
‘There’s just one thing though…’
‘What?’
‘Doesn’t it make you want to go to the loo?’
‘Why, yes!’ I exclaimed as an abrupt awareness of the litres of tea I’d consumed centred on my bladder.
‘Me first,’ Liz cried and hurried off up the stairs to the toilet. At least it had been repaired now I mused to the sight of her retreating legs. After she’d been I hastened to relieve myself, enjoying a long steaming pee and it occurred to me that had I waited longer my pee would have got cold. Not that it seemed to matter now as I rejoined Liz downstairs.
‘Fancy a cup of tea?’ She asked.