Page 41 of You Had Me At Pumpkin Patch
‘Only if you want to be.’
Oh, she wanted to be.
27
‘These retreats will be the best thing since pumpkin toffee pie,’ said Bonnie, putting down her wicker basket and looking up at the treehouse she was going to share with Mags for the weekend.
Luna arrived at her side, having already thrown her backpack at the bottom of the one she was sharing with Ellen. ‘I thought you were trying to be healthy, Mother.’ She put her arm around her mum’s slight shoulders and gave them a squeeze.
‘I am being healthy. I’m on a pumpkin farm retreat, aren’t I?’
‘Then why did you bring your custard doughnuts?’ asked Mags, coming up behind them, already wearing her flowery swim cap, even though swimming wasn’t strictly on the day’s schedule.
Rosie smiled and watched on as her friends chatted among themselves, seeming relaxed and at home already. The treehouses were finished and looking lovely in their simplicity, like little huts of happiness. Not that it had been simple to get them built, with all the tree specialists, health and safety and borrowed muscle power. Though somehow, with a lot of favours and a bit of credit, they’d pulled it off. She’d been working hard to try and make this first practice run as smooth and joyful as possible. Real-life guests were already grabbing spaces and paying for the proper retreats, which would begin later that month.
Of course, Rosie would usually have felt the pressure of something that huge weighing down on her like the arse-end of a robot cat. Yet being surrounded by fresh air and space, and having Zain on her side,at last, had given her the strength of ten ginormous gourds. Yes, she was still nervous, but they’d have time after this weekend to iron out the creases. And if the baddies of the piece were those suits from Cyber Purrz, then they would just have to make sure these retreats were a winning success.
Rosie rearranged her ponytail and straightened herself, trying to ignore the belly butterflies that were going on under her new pumpkin-patterned dungarees. ‘We won’t let you starve, Bon,’ she said, taking a deep breath and going to join the group.
‘Still not sure how I’m going to get my aching limbs into one of those treehouses,’ said Mags, placing one hand on her back.
‘Then you need to try my candlelight yoga,’ said Bonnie, beaming from ear to ear. ‘I’ve just finished my teaching certificate, so I could show you all later. And I’d be happy to do sessions at future retreats, by the light of pumpkin lanterns.’ She gave Rosie a hopeful look.
‘And I brought my hurdy-gurdy for a campfire singalong.’ Mags opened the case of a stringed wooden instrument that looked almost medieval.
Rosie smiled, her heart feeling warm. They were an eclectic bunch, but she wasn’t sure how she would have managed without them. ‘Thank you, everyone. I might just take you up on those thoughts.’
‘You could bring your writing into the mix,’ said Luna, giving Rosie a nod. ‘I mean, who doesn’t feel creative out here? I’ve only been among the weeping willows for ten minutes, and I already reckon I could write a poem.’
‘She couldn’t write a poem,’ Ellen mouthed.
‘Part of me would love to.’ Rosie sighed. ‘But I’ve got enough on my list for now, juggling all these pumpkins. I don’t want to rock the boat.’ There were only so many brave steps a person could take at once, without tripping over. She checked over her shoulder. ‘What if I mention writing and Agnes says, “Ooh yes, and what about your painting?”and wheels some canvases down here?’
She kept her voice low, conscious that Zain didn’t know that the real interviewee for her job was a woman called Rachel, because there hadn’t been a good moment to bring it up. She didn’t feel great about that, but it had taken them so long to reach a truce, and now they were working brilliantly together, how could she possibly jeopardise things? Not to mention that their budding relationship was delicate, and he didnotlike having the wool pulled over his eyes. She would have to tell him when things were altogether more stable. In the meantime, she was being the best retreat-organising employee she could possibly be, so surely that was something.
‘When life gives you canvases, paint pumpkins,’ said Mags.
It sounded like as good a plan as any.
Then Zain appeared, making Rosie jump, and she quickly changed the subject. To her relief, Mags accosted him about carrying her luggage to save her creaky bones.
‘Welcome to our Pumpkin Farm Retreat,’ Zain said, when he’d finished with the bag chat. He extended his arms around himself, like he was introducing an autumn-themed show. The camping area was next to Zain’s largest pumpkin patch, giving the guests the most fantastic view. ‘A place where pumpkins reign and all things wild are celebrated.’ He gave Mags a wink and she giggled like a teenager. ‘I’m sure your host will make your stay seamless.’ His gaze landed on Rosie. ‘She has a special way of making everyone feel...’
Until that point, Zain could almost have been reading his word-perfect speech from an autocue. He was charming and confident, and had their guests’ hearts and minds stuck to him like jam on a sandwich. Not for the first time, Rosie almost didn’t recognise him. But when his eyes met hers, he faltered.
‘Umm...’
‘In love?’ Luna whispered, finishing his sentence and giving Ellen an animated nudge.
Rosie felt the heat rise to her cheeks. ‘Shall we get everyone settled into their treehouses?’
Zain nodded.
The treehouse where Mags and Bonnie would be sleeping was called Woody and had a spiral staircase that wound its way around the tree’s trunk. Like Squirrel, the treehouse next door where Luna and Ellen would be staying, it was held aloft by the strong branches of an oak tree and strengthened by stilts secured into the ground. There were more treehouses dotted in the trees in each corner of the camping meadow. She and Zain had compromised on a setting that was close to both the pumpkin patches and the lake, with clusters of trees, and a natural glade where they’d set up the teepees, campfire area and more pumpkin lanterns. Rosie had even made autumn-leaf bunting, which she’d twisted with fairy lights and strung from tree to tree. It would be even more magical when night fell.
They made their steady ascent up the spiral staircase to Woody, with Zain carrying Mags’ and Bonnie’s bags, and Luna and Ellen insisting they’d stay at the bottom and keep a watch out for wolves, of which there were definitely none.
‘Each treehouse has just one room,’ Rosie explained, when they were safely inside Woody. ‘This is where you’ll sleep.’
