Page 21 of You Had Me At Pumpkin Patch
‘No.’ Rosie tried not to bristle, because she knew her friend always meant well.
‘You’re telling me you caught Cassius googling bot sex, but you smiled and carried on eating your cornflakes?’
‘I didn’t smile, exactly.’
‘And let’s not start on the guy who filled your bed with knicker-stuffed dingoes, because I could have flown over and throttled him with a thong for that. And the bloke you swore wasn’t impersonating a lollipop lady, even though he literally kept the sign in your wardrobe.’
‘Hmm.’ Rosie shifted on the wooden bench, which wasn’t the most comfortable.
She begrudgingly wondered whether her dearly departed fiancé James ought to be added to the growing list of cockups. Well, he hadn’texactlybeen her fiancé at the time he’d died, because he’d split up with her about a month before, and he’d neverexactlygiven her an engagement ring. But he’d often dumped her and then changed his mind. He’d been fickle like that.
‘Look, lovely,’ said Vix. ‘I don’t mean to panic you, I just hope you’re not hiding from real life. It’s natural that you want to take time out. But not letting people know where you are, when they may be worrying? And masquerading as a wild-swimming, pumpkin-retreat-organising super-guru? You don’t need to pretend to be anyone else, Rose. You’re bloody magnificent as you are.’
Rosie made a non-committal sound. ‘I’m not hiding, I’m just... finding myself. Taking a moment to work out who I really am away from the noise of town life, and the AI and robots who were threatening to take over my existence.’ She knew that was melodramatic, but she’d been loving not spending her days logged in to anything or arguing with a voice-activated pest called Serena.
‘So what are you going to do about Zain and his pumpkins?’ Vix asked. ‘Because you can’t keep avoiding them. Or him.’
Rosie let the thought settle. ‘Damn it, you’re right.’ Perhaps she did sometimes side-step the tricky issues. And if she was going to make some new, improved pumpkin retreat plans, she at least needed to get an eyeful of Zain’s big ones. No more denial or beating around the stupid bush. ‘I’m going to get my hands on them.’
Rosie felt her spirits lift. Yes, there would still be subterfuge, because Zain couldnotcatch her getting her hands on his speciality crops. But you couldn’t make a retreat-worthy pumpkin face pack without breaking a few pumpkins, and in fairness, Zain hadplenty.
Vix giggled. ‘Do I detect a certain something in your voice when you mention him?’
Rosie’s forehead creased. ‘Rage?’ She joined her friend in laughing. ‘Don’t worry. After my various dating disasters, I’ve concluded that I’m probably immune to love.’ The only tears she’d shed for Cassius had been humiliated ones, and this thing with James and the orange letters should have hurt a whole lot more. ‘Though being out here in this beautiful place has made me better at writing about it.’
‘Glad those birds and bees are inspiring you.’ Rosie could almost hear her friend winking. ‘And take care on those clandestine missions.’
Rosie was still nervous aboutallthe secrets she was juggling, not to mention that the real interviewee for the retreat role might show up at any time, or Farmer Wilbur could arrive in his tractor and out her as a fraud. But she had a strong feeling that this new creative challenge was worth the jeopardy.
As they said their goodbyes, Rosie found herself agreeing to check in with the Featherstones. Her mum and half-sister were sometimes frustrating, but they were good people, below their layers of showing off.
Rosie stood up from the bench, took a deep breath and opened their group chat. She hadn’t missed the constant pinging or her phone’s insistence on letting her know what a phenomenal job everyone else was making of their lives. She hadn’t realised how demoralising that had become until she’d had chance to unplug.
She ignored the tens of unread messages from Cassius. At some point she’d have to arrange getting the rest of her things – but it was only stuff. Half of her clothes had probably never suited her, and she was doing just fine without a multitude of unnecessary face creams.
Instead, she braved the unread chat with her sister and mum.
Mum:
Where are you?
Flick:
Why is Cassius forwarding your mail here? Did you dump him? What’s this letter in the orange envelope? It reeks of cheap perfume.
Mum:
Sweetheart, are you all right? Please get in touch. Your father is in a tizzy.
Flick:
Like you even know who her dad is!
Mum:
Don’t be so crude, Felicity.
Flick:
