expert on tea. We want the media to call you for an answer whenever a question arises about tea.”
“Point taken and understood,” Flick said sheepishly.
Stuart gave a forgiving grunt. “Had you taken time to read, rather than scan, our briefing materials, you would have stumbled on several appropriate ways to praise England’s Tea Sage.” Stuart turned pages of the stapled document and began to read aloud.
“Etienne Makepeace forever reminded his audiences that he was not a professionally trained tea expert, but rather a tea lover who could be an enthusiastic advocate for tea. Because he obviously enjoyed teaching people about tea, he became known as ‘the C. S. Lewis of tea.’
“Professionally trained or not, Makepeace was recognized to have an encyclopedic knowledge of tea that he displayed in the many magazine articles he wrote…at his many lectures across Great Britain…and especially in numerous appearances on many radio shows.
“Makepeace was at his best when he de mystified tea and tea drinking. He didn’t tolerate teatime snobbery. He argued that sugar and milk in tea were perfectly acceptable in a good cuppa. He felt that scones served with clotted cream were too highfalutin and that it was a waste of time to cut the crusts off cucumber sandwiches. He waged a valiant battle against tea bags in favor of brewed tea and insisted that supermarket brands of tea were overpriced because the consumer paid for advertising and overly elaborate packaging—both of which did nothing to improve a cup of tea.”
Stuart flipped the page and kept reading.
“Makepeace was born in 1910 in Winchester, England, the only son of a fairly well-to-do family. His father, Jonathan Makepeace, was a banker. Etienne was named after his mother’s father, who had emigrated from France in 1876. He had one older sister, two younger sisters. The youngest sibling, Mathilde, was born in 1922. She is still alive but suffers from Alzheimer’s disease.
“As a boy, Etienne attended St. Bede’s Primary School in Winchester and then the Pilgrim School, where he became a chorister for Winchester Cathedral. When his voice changed, the lad moved on to the Sherborne School in Dorset, a competent, but less well-known, public school. Makepeace proved to be a clever boots throughout his youth. He went up to Cambridge University where he read history and graduated in 1934 with a First”—Stuart glanced at Flick—“that’s equivalent to ‘with honors’ in America. Etienne briefly attempted to follow his father into banking, but then he entered the navy in 1937. During World War II, he served as an officer with Naval Intelligence. His specialty was convoy routing in the North Atlantic.”
Nigel raised his hand. “Stuart, I hope you’re not proposing that we memorize the man’s curriculum vitae.”
“You will increase your credibility with the media if you drop a fact or two about Etienne Makepeace. Am I right, Philip?”
“Absolutely,’’ the reporter said enthusiastically.
Nigel squinted at the lights, enjoying the kaleidoscopic patterns in his eyes, while Stuart continued to read from the document. “We didn’t find anything about Makepeace’s activities in the years immediately after the war. He apparently used the next decade to perfect his writing and speaking skills, and to grow his knowledge of tea. He published his first magazine article on tea in 1955, gave his first public talk in 1956, and made his first appearance on BBC Radio in 1958. His fame grew rapidly, and he soon became a beloved fixture on radio. The many photos of Makepeace published during the late fifties and early sixties show him as a handsome man who always looked in good nick—sculpted moustache, stylishly cut hair, impeccable clothing, and a dazzling smile.
“Makepeace avoided politics and controversy for most of his life. However, during the height of the Cold War, he wrote and lectured that it was unpatriotic, even traitorous, to drink