As much as Ossie fusses, the cottage fusses too. His shoes somehow end up on the rack beside the door when he's not looking (cleaned and polished, to boot), a coat stand seems to just appear to take his coat.

Ossie bustles them into the dining room. The table is set just for two; not overly formal, but with a sprig of fresh flowers in a small vase and room enough that it's not close quarters.

"Coffee? Tea? Juice? Lemon squash?" he asks, unbuttoning his jacket to sit, "requests for brunch? You ought to try Giles' pancakes, they're just exceptional."