“Abbey.” The cat was trailing the guest, rubbing against her leg. “Come over—”
“Oh! You’ve got a lovely little porch as well!” Sophia exclaimed as she leaned closer to the door.
“Yes, indeed.”
“Really makes me miss my country house.” She leaned side to side to try and get a better look of the space outside.
I went and fetched the scraps of chicken from the fridge. “What was it like?”
“Well, we had more of a small deck than anything. It didn’t have a fancy pergola like yours.”
“A pergola?”
“That sort of open roof with wooden cross-beams you have over your porch.”
“Ah, I didn’t know that was what they were called.” I prepared a pot over the stove.
“George and I considered getting one built for our farm house. Wasn’t a high priority, though. And we moved out before we got around to it.”
“… I see.” Bringing the cutting board to the stoveside, I was a bit distracted to say anything more. I brushed the bits of celery that I had cut beforehand together. Below, I felt Abbey rubbing herself on my leg.
“What do you have growing on yours? Are those grapes?”
“No, they’re nothing special. Just ivy. I didn’t even need to plant them there.”
“Oh! What a happy coincidence.”
I shrugged, sweeping celery from the cutting board into the soup. “They are a weed, after all.”
“Are they? I quite like their effect.” She paused. “Gives a certain charm to a place.”
“They do. Though you have to be careful, as they can crowd out other plants…” I mixed the soup a little. “And potentially damage structures as well.”
“Really?!” There was a bit of disbelief to her voice. “Those innocent looking things?”
“They widen the cracks.”
“Lordy! I didn’t know they were that savage!”
I nodded. “I mean, they don’t rip buildings apart, just to be sure. But the water certainly can.”
“Oh, I see. That makes sense.”
In time, we sat down for tea out on the porch. I set out the dishes on the table and brought out the soup.
“Thanks for treating, dear!”
“Oh, no! Don’t fuss about it!”
“Not much I can offer, but stop by my place sometime!” She giggled. “Though there’s no way in heaven I can replicate the view you have here. Our flat has just a few small windows.”
“I’ll take your offer to heart, regardless,” I smiled, pouring her a cup of tea.
Looking over the porch, she admired the wide open space. “My, I already miss my country house,” she repeated. “The flat is just so cramped.”
“Where are you living?”
“On Arthur Street… um… some street number. I forget!” she laughed. “I only memorised the building, not the address!”
“Ah. That is a busy street.”
“I know,” she sighed. “I know.”