The Orchid House – Part 2: First Bloom

It flowered in November, in the small hours of a rainy night.

Aisha found it when she arrived at dawn: a single glorious bloom, deep claret and green, with a long twisting petal like a ribbon. She stood before it with her hand pressed to her mouth.

"Oh," she whispered.

"Oh," said a voice behind her.

Daniel was in the doorway, still in his pyjama top, hair on end. "I saw the lamp on. I thought something was wrong."

"It's flowering."

"In your house."

"With your light," said Aisha. She turned to him. "I moved one of your lamps in. Weeks ago. I didn't tell you."

He blinked. "You borrowed my lamp?"

"It was the right spectrum."

"I knew it was the light!"

"It was also the humidity."

"It was both," said Daniel, laughing. "It was always both."

They stood together before the bloom as the first sun slid across the glass, turning every water drop gold. The flower shivered gently. The greenhouse smelled of rain and warm earth.

"Can I ask you something?" said Aisha.

"Yes."

"Shall we publish together?"

"I'd be honoured."

"And may I kiss you?"

His face lit up. "Yes. And if you say stop, you must rename it after me."

"What if I don't say stop?"

"Then I'll be very happy."

She kissed him, gently, a hand cupping his stubbled cheek. He kissed her back, slowly and warmly, tasting of coffee and damp earth. The orchid glowed beside them, like a small lantern.

When they parted, both of them were smiling.

"Green?" he asked.

"Green," said Aisha. "Very green."

The paper had two authors, and the flower was named for both of them. In the greenhouse, the pH note is still pinned to the wall, framed.

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