Present in her earliest memories of her grandmother’s rambling old farmhouse it was there. Once when she was very young she had tried to lift its lid but it had refused to give. She went to find Grammy.

‘Gram can you open the chest on the landing?’
‘Why do you want that pet?’
‘I want to know what’s in it.’ Her Grammy laughed.
‘Sorry pet. I know how you feel but there’s no key for it. It were lost years ago, even before my Grammy’s days. The only way you could open it is if you could find that key.’
Of course that only made the chest even more fascinating. Every time she came she promised herself that she would not be as interested in it but always found herself at least once standing opposite it, staring into its dark wood.

The top and sides were deeply carved with leaves and flowers. As she grew she learned their names: wood sorrel, violet, celandine, windflower. All spring flowers. But there were other plants as well. There were trees: oak, rowan, blackthorn and holly.  They were portrayed in spring bud but also in summer leaf, and dressed for autumn with berries, acorns and nuts. They were there covered in winter snow as well.

Though she always wanted to know more about the chest, when she raised the subject with Grammy, she never got a straight answer. So she pondered how to get Grammy in an informative mood.

When she came next time she had with her a big illustrated book on rural furniture. She read it when Grammy was around. Eventually Grammy took the bait.

‘What you reading pet?’

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Short story - Winner