I once visited a Sure Start Children’s Centre (around 2002) and was being shown proudly around by the manager. They were delighted to showcase their co‑located, multi‑agency team with early years practitioners and health colleagues working side-by-side in an open‑plan office.

Everywhere I looked, people were smiling. They talked enthusiastically about their shared plan, their aligned services, their seamless teamwork. On paper, and at first glance, it was everything you would hope to see.

But then I noticed something.

At one end of the office sat a kettle, surrounded by mugs, teabags, and all the bits you’d expect. At the other end of the room, another kettle. With its own mugs and supplies.Two identical setups, 10 metres apart.

Curious, I asked, “Why do you need two kettles for one team?”

They looked slightly puzzled that I’d even asked. “Well,” someone explained, “that one is the early years kettle… and that one is the health kettle.”

I tried again. “Yes, but why two kettles?”

The answer came back, completely matter‑of‑fact: “Because they’re from two different budgets.”

At this point I couldn’t help smiling. Here were two teams who had done the hard part of co‑location, shared planning, and daily joint working, yet the system still found a way to keep them apart at the most basic level: making a cup of tea.

I suggested they put the budgets together or just let one team buy all the tea things, so they could have one kettle (big enough for everyone), not two. One small, symbolic step toward truly integrated working. If you can’t integrate over tea, how can you expect to integrate over anything more complex?

And that’s the parable. Partnership isn’t where you sit. It isn’t sharing a building or a plan, or even a meeting table. It’s the everyday decisions, big and small, where people choose to work as one team with one purpose, one truth, one accountability. If you don’t know how to start with all of that, how about making tea?