My shoes click as I walk along the path in my front garden. Pin pricks of light float through thick flowers as they watch me. I smile.
I kick something and hear a clattering on the path. I bend down and pick up my small shears. They’ve been at it again. It’s nice to come home to freshly cut flowers, but I wish they’d put things away when they’d finished with them.
The automatic lamp on the porch flickers on when I reach the bottom step. A small tinkling as they dart, giggling, into the shadows. I feel their eyes on me. I unlock the kitchen door and go inside.
The blooms stand, elegantly arranged, in a clear glass vase on the table, unencumbered by decorative trimmings. I dip my head and smell them. Fresh. Uplifting. Beautiful. The light scent of lilies has permeated my kitchen, lifting the atmosphere, and my post-work mood.
More tinkling, and the cat flap bangs.
“Good day, Belle?” I say without turning.
More tinkling. I put my bag on the table and put the kettle on to boil before setting the table for tea. As the kettle whistles, there’s a tinkling on my shoulder.
I drop tea leaves into my cup, pour water over them and set the kettle back on the bench. I move to the fridge.
“Jinx almost got you coming in through the flap again? Tell me over our tea.”
I sit and drop a sugar cube into my cup with a plop. Belle flutters down to perch on the edge of my saucer, while her sisters fly the magnetic words from the fridge over to the table.