Page 42 of You Had Me At Pumpkin Patch
‘Wooooow,’ said Bonnie, letting the word whisper around the wooden space.
Mags gasped and nodded furiously in agreement, her lungs still out of puff from the stairs.
Rosie watched as their eyes bounced around the room, taking everything in. The low beds with their cosy bedding and blankets, the pumpkin-spiced chocolates she’d made for them and left on each pillow, in hand-decorated boxes. Their orange towels, which she’d twisted into pumpkin shapes, complete with cinnamon sticks for stalks. The wicker baskets filled with local toiletries in seasonal fragrances, which Rosie had sourced. The strings of paper bunting she’d made from discarded manuscript pages. They couldn’t afford to put heating or lights up in the trees yet, so they were making do with swapped or borrowed camping equipment, which Rosie hoped would add to the sense of adventure.
As her guests noticed each detail, Rosie felt a sense of elation when their eyes lit up. Even Zain was taking it all in, his mouth slightly open. He hadn’t had chance to see the finishing details. Those home comforts that Rosie hoped would make up for everything being pretty rustic.
‘We’ll use the teepees as our communal areas, and you can grab water and reusable bottles on ground level.’
They knew about the compost toilet, and Rosie would tell them about the open-air bathing area later. Now it was set up, she knew it was so much better suited to the land than the jarringly modern shower block she’d once naively imagined. She almost couldn’t wait to sell the idea of a warm soak in a wonky tin bath under the starlight, with the solar string lights exuding their gentle glow.
‘And then there’s your treetop balcony,’ said Zain, seeming to remember his lines, even thoughof coursehe didn’t have any. ‘Let’s show you.’
They filtered out onto the small balcony and stopped to take in the view. It was anotherwooooowmoment, only it took a while for anyone to formulate the words.
‘Something inside us was born to live in the trees,’ said Zain quietly, looking out over the view as he spoke. Rosie stood next to him, Mags and Bonnie at her side. Luna and Ellen were at the foot of the tree, looking up. ‘Our ancestors found safety and shelter here, and many still do. The pumpkin farm is already a special place, but coming up here will give you an instant disconnect from busy life.’
He turned to them. ‘That’s one of the reasons we decided on no flashy amenities or tech up here. Whenever I leave this place, I see half of the planet with their faces glued to screens. Being elevated invites you to look up. To see the bigger picture.’
His words made Rosie want to float. As his eyes met hers, she slipped her hand into his, feeling his warmth and wanting to keep it there always. He squeezed it lightly and pulled away. Well, that was probably more professional.
Their retreat preparation jobs had caused Zain to leave the land more and more, to work elsewhere or to collect things. Rosie had never seen Zain outside of the farm. In her imagination, he existed only here – the place that was perfect for him. She was intrigued to hear what he thought of the world outside and wondered if being out there was changing him. He was certainly coming back with more ideas and a lot more to say for himself.
But she knew it was silly to want him to only be here, in the bubble they had created. Could their blossoming relationship work outside of these hedgerows, and would the influx of new people change their peaceful dynamic? Or would her skeletons start catching up with her?
Rosie shook herself and smiled. There was no need to overanalyse. They had their first day of pumpkin farm exploring, foraging and campfire cooking to look forward to, and Zain had suggested that tonight could hold something even more incredible for the two of them. She’d chosen to sleep in a treehouse called Wild, which was in a secluded spot away from the others. Every inch of her hoped Zain would be joining her.
28
Other than the odd hiccup over missing toilet roll, or retreaters getting lost in the autumn meadows, the first practice retreat day played out perfectly. Even the weather was smiling on them. They’d helped Zain with a spot of early pumpkin harvesting. They’d refuelled on a picnic of roast pumpkin lasagne and an autumn salad that Rosie had thrown together. Zain had even let them carve a few pumpkins and paint faces on them, although Rosie was sure she’d seen him wincing.
Now they were building a campfire, where they’d cook the pumpkin flatbreads they’d made, to eat with their butternut squash risotto.
‘Watch your feet,’ Zain said to Mags, as he dropped an armful of firewood near where she was sitting, barefoot and waiting to toast her toes against a fire that wasn’t yet ready.
‘Will do,’ Mags mumbled, through a mouthful of Rosie’s home-made chocolates.
What Rosie liked best about her new group of friends was that their rebellious differences gave Rosie permission to be herself too.Andthey didn’t nag on about her choice of boyfriends.
She took in the scene, knowing she had mud on her knees and twigs in her hair. Her nails bore no sign that she’d ever had a manicure and the only thing on her face was a smattering of seasonal freckles. And she felthappy. No, it was more than that. She breathed it in, trying to find words to describe it so she could write about it later. She feltfull. Not in atoo many chocolatesway, though she had sneaked more than a few. But full to the brim with something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Like sparkly joy dancing with a peaceful knowing, and a spirit so grateful it might burst.
Then there was Zain. Her gaze was drawn back to him looking all parts romantic hero, hulking firewood and swiping moisture from his brow. Who knew scenes this flawless could exist in real life? And that falling for someone had little to do with being head over heels, and everything to do with her tumbling heart. She couldn’t wait to be closer to him tonight. Would it be their night? Because right then, everything felt justperfect.
‘You all right, love?’ asked Bonnie, arriving at her side and giving her back a rub with the one hand that was free from sticks.
It was only then that Rosie noticed her eyes were welling up. She was so full that she needed to overflow. If she’d been living her life on the sidelines before, then at last she was truly part of something.
She smiled at her own silliness and wiped her face with her sleeve. ‘I’m fine, honestly. Just having a moment. A joyful one.’
In her old life, Rosie would have passed off the tears as a mascara malfunction. She was coming to see that real friends weren’t people you needed to put on a brave, powdered face in front of or buy cakes for every Monday, even when it was surely their turn. They were people who you couldhave a momentin front of, without judgement.
‘I’m not surprised you’re emotional,’ said Zain, arriving at their side. ‘Look at everything you’ve brought to life.’
Rosie nodded. As a writer, she created whole, imaginary worlds. She’d just taken the next step and helped to build something real. She was beginning to prove that she wasn’t just a dreamer who floated through life with her blinkers on.
‘You’re a natural,’ said Mags. ‘I’ve been spoiled, right down to my very toes.’ She gave them a wriggle.
She took a deep breath and allowed herself to say, ‘Thank you.’
