Paul found marriage to Edie had far surpassed his every expectation; it felt disloyal to compare her to Jane since the murder, but his first wife's tragic death didn't change how poorly she had behaved as a wife. He thought they'd been happy before the War, before Trondheim, but he had had to revise his evaluation as if he were shuffling men in a line-up, throwing out the one who wouldn't make the cut, too great an outlier. Edie wasn't perfect but it sometimes seemed like she was, for him; she cared so much about him, was attentive without being obsequious or endlessly, passively obliging. She made it clear she loved him but wouldn't let him get away with anything she felt was either self-pitying or frankly wrong. However, her smart rebukes were generally coupled with a peck on the cheek and she wasn't reluctant when he made that become a proper kiss and cuddle, never swatted away a straying hand. He knew he was living with a former Sister of the ward who could easily have become the Matron and he was grateful she'd been willing to give it all up to mind and manage him. Work, which he'd found a refuge the years Jane had abandoned him, was now a challenge and a pleasure and sometimes, it was just something he was happy to leave behind to hear instead about the queues at the shops, the abysmal organization of the mother's group at St. Clement's, Edie's troubles raising anything except the most unappealing marrows in the patch of Victory garden that was theirs.

Paul Milner was a contented man in all respects except one- Edie couldn't make his cup of tea the way he liked and he was far too fond of her to tell her so but he could hardly forget it when Sam Stewart prepared a cuppa just the way he wanted, each time, without fail, from the first day she'd joined them and had to loiter in the lobby waiting for Mr. Foyle. He had no idea how she'd mastered it but he'd grown to rely on it. He couldn't admit it now that he was happily married, but he'd also always very much liked the look of Sam's slender wrist as she stirred in the sugar, the way her eyes brightened when she handed it to him, the curve of her lips as she inhaled the steam and the way they parted when she offered to him, saying "Here you are, now!" merry if she could be or consoling if that's what was called for. For the time being, Edie seemed to enjoy being presented with a tea tray already prepared and Paul shoved aside the twinge of disappointment with every first sip that was subtly off, made do with what he had and counted his blessings. It was so much more than he'd ever had before, he couldn't believe he could notice any shortcoming, but he supposed he was an Englishman and it was his cup of tea.