Chapter Forty-one
Matthew lay in bed tossing restlessly and grumbling irritably to himself as he tried to gain some respite from the trial disaster and sink into a restful sleep. After failing for over an hour, he swung out of the bed, walked sluggishly into the tiny kitchen, and filled the kettle. He plugged it in and turned it on, then commenced his usual ritual of emptying out the old tealeaves before replacing them in the teapot. The mechanics of this ritual always had a calming effect – something that he knew was common during Asian tea ceremonies. He walked over to the record player and pulled out an LP of The Marriage of Figaro from its plastic sleeve and cardboard cover. Placing it on the turntable, he flicked the start switch. Mozart’s glorious music flooded his tiny flat and soo
