Page 1 of You Had Me At Pumpkin Patch
1
It was one of those crisp autumn days where surelynothingcould go wrong.
‘So you caught him googlingwhat?’
Rosie winced at the sound of her friend Vix’s voice, blasting through her phone’s earbuds. Well, perhaps one thinghadput her off her honey nut cornflakes earlier, but she wasn’t going to let that ruin a lovely morning. Because this was the first day of her favourite season.
Rosie looked around, breathing it all in. It was brisk enough to wrap up snugly, even though the sun was sparkling. Gold and amber leaves fell like confetti, dancing around her as she crunched along the tree-lined street, past tall Regency buildings with balconies worthy of love scenes. She’d even treated herself to a warm cup of pumpkin-spiced latte, topped with...
‘Earth to Rosie.’
Rosie winced.
‘Your voice trailed off and I missed the last bit. Then you went suspiciously quiet. Is everything all right with you and Cassius?’
She hadn’t gone quiet. Had she? On second thoughts, it would be infinitely better if she didn’t saythatout loud anyway.
‘I wasjuuuuust... admiring the particularly pleasant foliage.’
What perfectly decent people Google-stalked when they were bored was their business. Rosie herself looked up all sorts of weird things when she was researching her romance novels, even if her efforts had amounted to no more than a pile of cutting publisher rejections, because the romantic bits wereoddly lacking.
Vix sighed. ‘I’m sensing you don’t want to talk about it.Again.Just promise me you’ll keep your head out of the clouds, OK? I love that you often live in imaginary worlds. But please stay vigilant.’
‘Mmm hmm,’ Rosie promised, through a slurp of nutmeg and cinnamon deliciousness. Vix was starting to sound like her mum.Stop daydreaming, Rosie.Didn’t they realise daydreams were the best place to be?
Rosie wriggled her way out of the doomed phone conversation.
Her oldest friend was wonderful, but sometimes it was handy that she lived seven hundred and ninety-eight miles away. Friends tended to ask a whole lot of questions about things she didn’t like poking around at. Like her back catalogue of eye-wateringly unfortunate relationships, which had no bearing on her present one with Cassius. It was no wonder she often preferred fictional friendships.
Anyway, she had work to do.
Lifting her chin, Rosie kicked onwards through the leaves, steeling herself for another morning at KJ Marketing where she worked as a content writer, creating articles and newsletters on the enthralling topic of dental health. It wasn’t exactly her dream job, but she’d dropped by the bakery to grab swirly, orange-iced cupcakes, so at least she could enjoy the small rebellion of risking tooth decay as she mulled over the perfect description of fillings.
Rosie took a deep breath and pushed through the door of the dingy office. She was one of the early birds, as always. It wasn’t actually her turn to sort the cakes this week, but the others always forgot, and there was no way stingy Kelvin would let them out before lunchtime. He timed them to the second and she was pretty sure he’d ration toilet roll if it wouldn’t start a riot. Rosie shivered at the thought as she made her way to the main office.
‘Rooooosie Featherstone.’
The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she heard Kelvin call her name. He tended to have that effect on people. Or maybe it was the use of her surname, which for various reasons, often embarrassed her.
‘Yes,’ she replied, as patiently as she could. Couldn’t he even let her take her coat off? She put the latte and cupcakes down on her desk, yanked her already droopy ponytail, and mustered a smile.
‘You’ve got lippy on your teeth,’ he said, squinting at her mouth.
‘Thanks for the self-grooming tips,’ she mumbled into her hand. He was too self-absorbed to notice when anyone was being sarcastic, which with his wonky goatee and kipper breath, she definitely was.
‘I’m not here to sort your life out. That would be a job, wouldn’t it!’ He laughed at his own attempt at a joke and tried to play-slap her on the arm.
Rosie sighed, her patience waning. Her life wasn’t exactly where she’d expected it to be by her fourth decade, but she had somewhere to live and a steady job, and her current boyfriend hadn’t been onCrimewatch. She was positively winning next to Kelvin.
‘So... you called me?’
‘Oh yeah, that. You’re fired.’
Rosie froze, midway through shrugging off her coat. ‘Whaaa...what?’ She’d worked there diligently for ten years and had never broken a rule. She didn’t nick the notepads or steal her colleagues’ oat milk, and she definitely wasn’t the sort who photocopied her backside for giggles. ‘I’m sorry, what? What have I done?’ Why was the room spinning? She reached out to try and grab something, but her hands were failing her.
‘Ah, nothing really.’ Kelvin tried another jovial slap on the arm. Rosie staggered backwards and landed in her chair, which made a tragic, fake leathery farting noise. She didn’t have the energy to wince. ‘You’re not fired, as such. I just don’t need you anymore. I’ll make you redundant, or whatever. I’ve got a robot to replace you.’
Rosie’s eyes darted, as though C-3PO might amble out of the kitchen looking all productive, and presumably not having a gale-force-nine emotional breakdown like she was about to. Maybe droids didn’t moan about making the coffee either.
