01 November 2013

Operation Smythson

I arrived home to find a pack of biscuits paired with a lovely note from Y. Immediately I was placed in an urgent situation. There was not one sheet of Smythson nor an accompanying envelope upon my desk. It was impossible for me to fashion a note of thanks. Amidst the bustle of daily demands, I had not been prepared to find myself the target of such a thoughtful, unpredictable gesture. Two days later (thank you note already overdue), I made my way along Sloane Street with intention. Only when I had selected the White Laid Kings writing paper and envelopes did I allow for leisurely browsing. Needless to say, I penned my note of appreciation the moment I returned to my desk. I hastily placed the sealed envelope with an assortment of chocolates in a small, plastic Peter Jones bag. I ran to Y's door like a student delivering an overdue assignment. Adjusting the bag around the door handle, I was met with relief. Operation Smythson was complete. 
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M.J.W.

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