The vine had its own ideas about the entrance.
Beside the Pots
Tess had spent the morning looking out of the front door for a parcel that was already beside the house.
She found it after the rain stopped.
A little paper packet rested beneath the overhanging rim of her yellow tin. Above it, caught between two vine leaves, was Ned’s note.
Beside the pots, as you asked.
Tess looked at the pots by the side wall.
Then she looked round towards the ones beside her front step.
“Oh.”
Bea arrived carrying her small tool bag.
“Found the crack?”
“And my seeds.”
Tess held up the packet.
Bea glanced at the vine running through the split in the tin. A long stem had turned outwards beneath the rim, spreading leaves above the place where Ned had left his delivery.
“Quite a sheltered spot,” she said.
“Yes. I’ve been watching a different one.”
Another Entrance
Inside, Tess’s house smelled of damp leaves and the tea she had made before going out.
Bea set her bag beside the stool and looked along the crack. Its lower edge lay close to Tess’s little kitchen counter. Beyond it, the vine reached towards the outside light.
“I can cover this edge,” Bea said. “Or, if you want an opening here, we could make a proper little hatch.”
“For what?”
“Orders. Customers could collect from this side.”
Tess looked towards the counter.
Her cup was still there. So was the book she had left open beside it, with a seed envelope marking her page.
“Would they be looking straight in?”
“From here, yes.”
Bea left her bag closed.
Tess put Ned’s packet beside the book.
“I sell the seedlings at the table outside.”
“I know. I thought you might want somewhere to serve when it rains.”
For a moment, Tess pictured a customer waiting beyond the crack while she cleared her breakfast from the counter.
“No,” she said. “I’d rather close the stall when it rains.”
Bea nodded.
“Then we’ll cover the edge.”
The Right Place
Tess brought a short length of soft cord. While Bea fitted a smooth cover along the split rim, she lifted the vine clear of their paws.
The stem did not need to come out. Its thin tip had found the crack before either mouse had thought of making a door there.
“Can we leave it a way through?” Tess asked.
“For the vine?”
“Yes.”
Bea checked the space beside the cover.
“That much, certainly.”
They worked the stem gently towards the little support beside the window. Bea tied it loosely while Tess held the leaves away from the knot.
Outside, the longest shoot still curved beneath the rim.
Tess set her watering can down and stood back from the house.
The parcel place remained nicely sheltered.
It also remained beside her kitchen.
She picked up the empty plant tray from there and carried it round to the front table.
“I’ll keep deliveries here.”
Bea came outside.
“Will Ned know which pots you mean?”
“He will when I’ve written it down.”
For the Vine Only
Tess wrote on a small board and set it among the seedling trays.
Deliveries on this table, please.
Below it, she added a little arrow towards the clear space beside the pots.
Bea read it.
“Room for the parcel?”
Tess moved one tray farther along.
“Now there is.”
She brought Ned’s seed packet out and placed it in the space, just to look. From the path, both the board and the packet were easy to see.
Then she took the seeds back indoors.
“Sol’s making that list of our addresses,” she said. “I’ll ask him to put the table down for collections.”
“Good idea.”
“He wants us at his place to finish it. There’ll be food.”
Bea looked towards the lane leading to the workshop.
“Jo and I will send him our details. We’ve still got the afternoon repairs.”
She picked up her bag.
Tess went round to check the covered crack once more.
The vine’s longest shoot had been resting over the old plant tray. Without it, the curled tip now hung in a neat little loop beside the split.
Bea paused on the path.
“So you did keep an extra door.”
Tess lifted a leaf and looked through the narrow space.
“For one very particular resident.”
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