"Oh, I wish my flowers could win first prize at the show," she said aloud.

A passing blackbird cocked its yellow eye at her as it hopped across the lawn. Ella watched it go, turning the stone over in her fingers. It was a pleasing stone, the size and shape of a small hen's egg, and fitted perfectly in the palm of her earth-roughened hand. Its colour was unusual: deep black, but with tiny gold flecks that sparkled as they caught the sunlight. It wasn't a local stone: had someone carried it back from a far-off place?

As if bringing tidings from that place, the postman appeared at the gate. Ella laid the stone down on the wall and went to meet him.

There were two envelopes, one bearing her daughter's handwriting. The other was addressed to "Mrs Samson" and had "CONGRATULATIONS!" printed across it in large green capitals. Ella assumed it was from Reader's Digest - they always got her name wrong. She went inside to read her daughter's letter, and was about to throw the other envelope in the bin when her eye was caught by the sender's name. Serendipitous Seeds. Who on earth were they? She thought she knew every seed company, but had never heard of this one. Intrigued, she ripped open the envelope.

A sealed seed packet fell out. Ella read through the accompanying letter and was even more intrigued. As a known keen gardener, she was one of a select few in the country chosen to trial this completely new garden plant. It was as yet unnamed and was provisionally being known as incognito multiflorn splendissima. Serendipitous Seeds would be grateful if she would complete the attached trial record sheet and return it in six months time. All returned sheets would be put in a draw, and the plant would be named afier the person whose sheet was picked out.

Well, thought Ella, a something-or-other Simpsonia would be fun! She carefully snipped the top off the seed packet and emptied it on the kitchen table. There were two large, shiny seeds, rather like those of a pumpkin but more rounded. The growing instructions said to sow each seed on its edge in a nine centimetre pot. If both germinated, it was suggested that only the strongest seedling be grown on.

And there the instructions ceased. Serendipitous Seeds would like to know how the plant performed in different circumstances, so were not giving any guidelines. However, they did say that the unnamed plant was a vigorous grower and in congenial conditions could flower within one month of sowing.

One month! Ella couldn't believe that: it wasn't possible. Still, she would try growing the seeds, out of curiosity. She went into her lean-to greenhouse, filled two pots with moistened compost, placed each seed on its edge and covered them up.

Now what? The lack of detailed instructions was annoying. Better play safe, she thought. She took the pots back into the kitchen, put them on the warmest window-sill, stretched cling film over the top of each pot and placed a folded half-sheet of newspaper over both. That should do.

The afternoon was spent working busily in the garden. When Ella came inside to make a cup of tea she saw that the sheet of newspaper she had placed over the pots on the window- sill was crooked. She was about to adjust it when she noticed that the cling film was curved upwards, as if being pushed from below. She stared in amazement - in each pot a sturdy seedling strained against its transparent covering. When she peeled off the film, the bent shoots straightened up and two empty seed capsules flew off the young leaves with a popping sound.

Ella could hardly believe her eyes. She'd only sowed the seeds - what? - six hours ago? By the time her husband came home the plants were nine inches high and each had four wide, glossy, dark green leaves.

"Look, Tom," she cried excitedly, "I only sowed these this morning. The seed people said they were vigorous, but I've never seen anything like it!"

Tom wasn't particularly interested in plants, but he said indulgently, "Well, they obviously like what you're doing, so carry on!"

A secret hope had crept into Ella's heart. If these plants grew so fast, it was possible after all that they might flower in a month - just in time for the show! She decided to grow both seedlings on; and if the flowers were pretty (wasn't the plant called muitfiora splendissima?), something different would be bound to win first prize.

The mystery plants had to be moved into bigger pots the next day, as their roots were already coming through the bottoms of the nine centimetre ones. Over the following week Ella devoted much of her time to them: Serendipitous Seeds' record sheet was filled in with many exclamation marks. The plants proved to be climbers, and so quickly did they expand that they had to be repotted every day. One ended up in the biggest tub she had, placed on the floor of the greenhouse. It grew rapidly up the cane she provided and was soon twining itself along strings stretched across the greenhouse roof. She planted the other one outside m a border against the house. It took off straight away, racing skywards, and in no time had completely covered the side of the cottage.

"Do you really need to keep that plant in the greenhouse?" Tom asked. "The one outside seems to be doing fine."

So it did, but Ella had spotted the flower buds forming on the stems. The flowers might be damaged by heavy rain or wind, and she was dying to see what they would be like.

Three weeks after she had sown incognito multiflora splendissima, the first flower opened. It was exquisite. Seven large, overlapping petals curved into a glowing cup, deep apricot in the centre, palest gold at the edges. A very strong scent came from the flower. Ella shut her eyes and sniffed: citrus, honey, sandalwood, myrrh, cloves and vanilla were all mingled in the entrancing perfume. By evening both plants were sprinkled with open blooms and their scent was overpowering. Ella liked to keep her bedroom window open in the summer, and that night her dreams were filled with exotic images of sheikhs and starry skies, palm trees and seductive brown eyes.

Despite the excitement of the new plants, Ella didn't neglect the rest of the garden. She was tidying the roses in the middle of a border one evening when Tom came hurrying across the lawn looking agitated.

"Your damned plant's broken the roof of the greenhouse!" he called.

Ella inspected the damage. Two panes of glass in the greenhouse roof had been pushed right out, and branches of incognito multiflora splendissima hung down the front of the lean- to. With difficulty, she and Tom manoeuvred the tub out of the greenhouse and rolled it into the middle of the lawn. They had to cut off a lot of growth, including the stems that had escaped through the roof

"Don't you think these plants are getting a bit out of hand?" Tom panted.

"Oh, but they look so lovely!" Ella cried.

But a week later she had to agree to sacrifice the former greenhouse plant. Its trailing stems went three times round the lawn, while its roots had gone through the bottom of the tub and were growing vigorously down into the turf She and Tom were unable to budge it. They cut off all the stems, piled them on top of the tub, stuffed newspaper and kindling round the base and set it alight. It was like a funeral pyre: Ella fancied she could see beautiful young Indian widows being consumed in the flames. The smoke was cloyingly sweet and they had a lot of complaints from the neighbours.

The other plant was in excellent health and now covered all four walls of the cottage. Tom had to get up on the ladder and cut it back from the gutters and the upstairs windows, while Ella kept the downstairs windows and the doors clear with her clippers. She worked in an intoxicated dream. The cottage, clad in dark green and festooned with dazzling blossoms, looked like something out of a fairy tale, she thought. She almost expected an elf or an enchanted princess to step out through the front door. And the show was only a week away 

* * *

It was a triumph for Ella. Tom drove her to the showground in the morning, and she sat in the back seat guarding a cardboard box holding her treasures: seven magnificent sprays of incognito multifiora splendissima. The chief treasure was nursed on her lap - a stem with the single most perfect flower she could find on the plant.

The judge for the flower section was a noted expert who pontificated regularly on television. There was no competition. First prize for "Arrangement: one species" went to - Mrs E. Simpson. First prize for "Single bloom" - Mrs E. Simpson. And a special award for "Outstanding exhibit" - Mrs E. Simpson.

Ella stood beside her flowers all afternoon, beaming with pride, while amazed and envious fellow-exhibitors and visitors exclaimed and gasped. Incognito multiflora splendissima seemed to bask in the admiration as well. Ella could have sworn the stems grew in the vase, and all the closed buds opened out until the tent was flooded with scent. The television expert was fascinated and curious: he had never heard of Serendipitous Seeds either. A reporter from the local paper interviewed Ella at length, and when the show was over a photographer went back to her house to immortalise the wonderful plant in all its glory. Ella and Tom had to push aside waving, leafy stems before they could get through their door to pour a celebratory drink.

Ella was worn out by all the excitement and fell asleep that night as soon as her head touched the pillow. She was woken up in the early hours by something tickling her ear.

"Stop it, Tom," she protested sleepily. 

"Minmmh  wha ?" her husband mumbled. The tickling continued.

"Oh, Tom, stop tickling me. I'm not in the mood."

Tom was awake now. "I'm not tickling you!" he said indignantly.

"Well, something is."

Tom heaved himself up and groped for the light switch above the bed. The light came on and Ella found herself staring straight into a golden flower.

With a yell Tom leapt out of bed, cursing as his feet landed on glossy green leaves. The bedroom window was completely blocked by incognito multiflora splendissima. Stems had trailed over the carpet and climbed up the end of the bed. One lay lovingly across Ella's body, its end curling round her face. Lustrous blooms ringed her head like a garland.

Ella lay rigid with shock, eyes and mouth wide open, face as white as the sheet. Tom grabbed the bedside torch and rushed from the room. Ella tried to call him back, but only a croak came from her dry lips. Nightmarish hours seemed to pass.

"Hold on, Ella, I'm coming!" she heard him shouting, and he burst into the room with a sickle in his hand. He slashed wildly at the stems, gasping blasphemies, then opened the window wide and bundled the mangled vegetation out into the darkness. 

As the branch that covered her was pulled away, Ella jerked out of her terror-struck trance and began to scream. Tom perched awkwardly on the side of the bed and clasped her to him, rocking and soothing until she quietened.

Ella shivered. "I can't sleep in here," she whispered.

They spent the rest of the night, very uncomfortably, wrapped up in blankets in the back of the car.

First thing next morning Tom sawed through the base of the stem of incognito multiflora splendissima. It took him some time. Together he and Ella moved round the house, tugging down branches. The plant was reluctant to relinquish its hold, and when at last they managed to get it all down they saw it had done a lot of damage. The stonework was heavily pitted and the guttering hung loosely. Stripped of its luxuriant covering, the cottage looked a poor thing. Ella walked round it, checking that no trace of the plant remained. She glanced at the decapitated root as she passed and stopped, aghast. A new shoot was growing up from it - grew a good six inches even as she watched. Was it her imagination, or did it lean longingly towards her?

"Tom! Oh, Tom, look!" she cried in dismay.

They stared in silence at the burgeoning growth, then sat down side by side on the patio wall.

"Poison..." muttered Tom. "Perhaps the Department of Agriculture could suggest something?" He squared his shoulders. "I am not being driven out of my own home by a plant!"

Ella rested her right hand on the top of the wall. Her fingers touched a stone: it was black with tiny gold flecks and seemed somehow familiar. Its shape fitted perfectly in the hollow of her palm, and she squeezed it hard for comfort.

"Oh," she sighed, "I wish I'd never heard of Serendipitous Seeds." 
 

* * *

On a fine morning in July Ella Simpson went out to admire her garden. The borders were a picture, but she was dissatisfied. Her efforts had never been given the recognition she thought they deserved. She sat down on the wall of the patio and picked up a small stone that was lying there. To the growing, listening things in her garden, she spoke aloud her innermost desire.

"I wish my flowers could win first prize at the show " 

The postman appeared at the gate and Ella went to meet him.