Morningstar Manor

It was a sunny Saturday morning in the City, and around eleven, you found several of the Manor population in the garden, with beverages from the Mocha, enjoying one of the last sunny mornings this summer might afford them. Among them were:

• Maude Temminck, who was sitting on a bench with a small latte, watching her two-year-old granddaughter Morgan carefully stack pebbles nearby. Occasionally, she made a note in a little Moleskine notebook she took from her purse every time a thought struck her.
• Chandika Malhotra, who was talking on the phone to a friend in an excited mix of Hindi and English while walking up and down with a large mocha with all the extras, cream and sprinkles. It was her day off, Rahul was with his dad, Bethan was working, and Chandika felt like being all young and irresponsible again for one day, so she'd called Anjali, and they were planning and afternoon and evening of spending money and causing very mild outrage. Hanu had lost himself somewhere in the undergrowth, but would of course come when whistled for, so she wasn't worried.
• Cindy Papadopoulos was sitting and drinking straight coffee in her wheelchair by the entrance to the conservatory because WLAN signal strength tended to be especially good around there; she was going through her email on her laptop and throwing a ball for Axminster every time he came bouncing up with it, which however hadn't happened for a few minutes now. Cindy had seen Hanu and his missus earlier, so guessed that the dogs were probably chasing mucklas or wrackspurts in the undergrowth together.
• Sibyl Grey was in the maze, with a chai latte, and carefully explored the rather awe-inspiring passages. This wasn't her first time in here, but it was different each time, somehow. She'd just met two stray greyhounds, one smaller and brindled, one larger and a lovely silvery grey, who were very friendly, so she'd put her cup on a bench and was bending down to pat them both as the looked up at her and lashed their whip-like tails.