ThirteenWorcestershire
Vicky heard the rap on the door as she stood in the kitchen, pondering lunch. The Tuesday morning had taken a turn for the worse weather wise, low clouds and mist blanketing the Lickey Hills. It felt more like late autumn than spring. Her dark socks made barely a whisper as she made her way along the hallway to the front door. As the door opened, a cool chill blew into the cottage. A man was stood on the step smiling at her. He was wearing a red jacket with dark trousers. His closely cropped grey hair was sprinkled with raindrops. His warm smile reaching his eyes, making Vicky smile back.
“Morning, Mrs Evans. Parcel for you.”
“Morning, Ben,” she said, accepting the small brown package. “How are you today?”
“Not too bad. Although the weather isn't helping much.”
