The Vault

8.

The clanging echo of the front door's knocker rebounded through the halls of the Manor. Rushing through the living room from the greenhouse, Alice opened the door. Her apron was stained with a muddy brown colour and on her hands were a pair of equally dirty gardening gloves.

Mildred smiled politely as always when the door was opened and she was reluctantly shown inside the house after insisting she helped Alice with the gardening.

After fetching her friend her own pair of gloves and an apron, the two girls made headed into the greenhouse.

"How has your father been? Is he writing again?" Mildred asked after the two had made all the usual formalities.

"I wouldn't know, I haven't seen him for a few days," Alice answered. "Apparently, he is alive because he is leaving the mess in the kitchen for me to tidy, although I haven't actually seen him once."

"You don't go down to check on him?"

"If he wants to lock himself away then it's his choice, I won't be running after him," Alice replied. "He's always been like that when he is writing, and if I ever disturbed him he would get enraged, so I'm happy to leave him to it," she said, stabbing at the dirt with her trowel a little stronger than necessary.

"I hope he is okay down there," Mildred said solemnly.

Alice looked at her but did not reply. She turned, looking outside the window in front of her. The mucky filth that once covered each pane had painstakingly been cleaned off by that very morning.

The weather outside was still and an ominous, grey, lull covered the garden as the lazy sun crept along high above. It seemed in no mood to heat up the day despite the sky being cloudless around it.

She looked at the various allotments of messy plants before her. "I think I'm going to start outside today," she said abruptly as she filled her last plant pot with soil.

The old white door to the garden was surprisingly stiff despite looking frail and broken.

Leaning against it with her shoulder, she gave it a push while twisting the handle, and after a second solid shove the door jolted and swung open.

A stale and lonely atmosphere lingered in the garden as the strange presence of a chilly and still air choked anything with life into silence.

Alice grabbed a shovel and looked back at her friend from the open doorway, "Coming?" She asked.

Mildred nodded obediently and they made their way outside.

Grabbing her shovel firmly, Alice planted a powerful stab into the first set of weeds in front of her, forcefully wrenching the deeply embedded plant out of it's home.

Since a young age she had always desired the chance to look capable, particularly in front of her peers, and Mildred watched her with fascination as she demonstrated her signature strong-willed and focussed attitude. Even if it was just ripping some weeds out of the ground, Alice did it with such an aura of dominance that it was clear she was a young woman that valued her own independence and ability to take care of herself.

As the two began shovelling out various unidentifiable plant, the day waned on and the hard-work took it's toll, forcing them to regularly pause for breath or stop to wipe a bead of sweat from their foreheads.

While they worked, they nattered about trivial things as friends do, and it was quite clear the two of them had now become personally acquainted.

"Will you ever come back to see me once you move on?" Mildred asked.