Thorpe Road

She sat on their timber window bench, pausing her writing as the sun gently rested on her face, streaming through the large rooflights. Across the room, he was chopping vegetables, preparing lunch. Today was special – their parents would finally see their reimagined home. “I think I’ll work on the bookshelves again this weekend,” he said, glancing out to the garden. “They’re really starting to come together.” A stray stem fell from the kitchen island onto the soft cork floor, and he bent down to pick it up, his gaze drifting to the garden through the large window. Outside, a cat carefully weaved its way between the green terrazzo patio’s pink shapes, as if they were shards of the pink façade above. The green of the garden reflected in the pebbles and the soft tones of the patio, while the pink echoed the bright begonias blooming at the back. “Do you think we should sit half the guests inside and half outside around the bench, like last time? It worked so well.” He nodded, opening the smaller kitchen window to let steam escape as the broth simmered happily on the hob. With a bottle from the small wine fridge in hand, they set the cork table outside. The smart doorbell chimed. Their guests had arrived.