She lay on the lounger, watching the rabbit nuzzling the lobelia and the ice melting in her glass. The drink from the pitcher had long been consumed and lay empty, as a reminder of the exotic fruit juices that had been mixed with a strong spirit, what it been poured in was a long-forgotten memory.
The heat of the midday sun had made sitting out in the suburban garden thirsty work and Philippa was ready for the responsibilities that came with this task. The whistle of distant aircraft taking off and landing at Gatwick intermittently broke the serenity of the peaceful garden in full bloom.
The sunflowers spied on neighbour’s gardens. The lobelia, however, was under attack from Trevor the rabbit. It was a short, fat little thing. One of its ears was missing while the other stood to attention. Its white fur looked as if it was stained with the patches of brown. He was almost blind but still had a fighting spirit. This premature blindness usually lead it to run around in circles when allowed to roam free in the garden.
Other than a mixture of lettuce and carrots the only other food Trevor was fed were the remnants of kebab that fell to the grass when Philippa passed out on the lounger after a night out, the task of finding the key to the house too laborious. The taste of lamb was an experience like no other for the rabbit. The mix of salad and was not to his liking, however, the overpowering taste of mayonnaise left a nasty after taste.
The lobelia made an interesting change to his diet and he set about it with relish. Philippa looked on unconcerned for the safety of the purple-blue flowers or the digestion of the rabbit. Trevor hacked at the plant like an explorer scything at the thick jungle terrain in search of some sort of civilisation. ‘Who knows maybe they will find some in Crawley’ Trevor thought.
Philippa woke from a short nap, took off her sunglasses to reveal two pale rings around her eyes. She lifted her glass from the floor, the remnants of the ice spilling on the ground. Stepping over the spillage that had quickly soaked into the parched earth, before seeing in the corner of her eye the rabbit.
Trevor had eaten clean through the lobelia and was now ramming the fence with some fury. Philippa dropped the glass and ran toward the rabbit to the sound of breaking glass on the patio. She picked the rabbit up all the time reprimanding it for its actions and placing him back in his hutch before telling the poor little creature ‘there will be no more kebab for you.’
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