Page 24 of Sad Girl Hours
Chapter Twenty-four
Nell
Soon our stomachs are full, and the entire house smells of sweet cinnamon and stewed pumpkin.
It’s strange how nostalgic autumn makes me feel, even as it’s still happening.
I guess that’s the thing with autumn. The other seasons feel like their own thing, distinct and intransient.
Autumn, however, is undeniably in between things, the fading of crisp lines into a warm blur of something else entirely.
It feels like an exhale, a letting go, between the blooming heat and brightness of summer and the stark harshness of winter.
I wish I could hold on to it for longer, but I guess that’s also part of why I love it so much.
It doesn’t feel as though it’s here for long, so I embrace it for all it is while it’s here.
“OK.” I finish wiping the batter from the side of the bowl and chuck the dishcloth into the sink with gusto. “Time to get changed and head out for pumpkin fun times.”
“Oh.” Something occurs to Saffron. “I don’t have a change of clothes with me. And I don’t really want to go out like this again.”
“That’s OK, you can borrow something of mine.” I scan her up and down. “It’ll probably have to be a skirt or a dress, given my trousers would be cut-offs on you and that’s not really the vibe.”
“Curse my excess of leg.”
“Don’t curse it. I personally think you have the exact right amount of leg. Proportionally, I mean,” I add, even though Saffron’s long legs are definitely longer than is strictly proportional.
“Thank you,” she says. “I think. It’s always nice when someone compliments how proportional you are. I still don’t think I should borrow your clothes, though.”
“Oh, come on – it’ll be fun.” I head for the stairs. “I’ll even let you make a silly little video of it. A ‘my friend kidnaps me and dresses me up in her style’ thing.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Saffron’s mild surprise chases me up the stairs. “We’ll make a content creator out of you yet, Nell.”
“No, thank you. I’ll leave that to the experts and stick to my unplugged hobbit lifestyle if you don’t mind.”
My statement proves a little ironic, given the fact that we spend the next half an hour filming a video together of me throwing out various outfit choices for Saffron to try on.
Some look a little ridiculous, like – as I suspected – all of my trousers.
But then she picks out one of my longer dresses, a simple brown one, and puts an embroidered corset-style waistcoat over the top, and …
well. She looks good. Really good in fact.
“What do you think?” She swishes in front of the mirror, camera propped up on my dresser.
I pretend to grump while I watch her. “I think I’m mad that you look better than me in all my clothes.”
Saffron raises her eyebrow. “Are we forgetting the fact that your trousers made me look like a little lad that likes berries and cream?”
I let out a cackle without meaning to. “Never. But you don’t look like a little lad any more. You look beautiful.”
Saffron’s cheeks flush pink, which only adds to the free-spirited Renaissance princess vibe she’s giving off.
She looks like she’s just come in from practising sword fighting or riding her horse over the moors to visit her secret Renaissance girlfriend in her cottage where she runs an apothecary.
I wonder whether I could make her blush more often if I wanted to.
“So…” Saffron says, fiddling with the skirt of her (my) dress, “I’m clothed. Where are we going?”
“Hold your horses. I’m not going out as Poe.” I rifle through some of my clothes from the floor, ones that we discarded for Saffron. “Erm… Ah, this and … this.”
I select a deep green blouse with a bow, a brown linen suit and waistcoat (and two pairs of tights to keep me toasty) and start to get changed.
Saffron loiters in front of my dressing table, absent-mindedly touching all the crow trinkets I’ve gathered on it.
I make eye contact with her in the reflection of the mirror as I pull the top on and notice a pink flush not just on her cheeks, but on the sliver of neck I can see between her gold curls.
Interesting.
Maybe I might not be feeling the things that I’ve heard can manifest in the rose hues that I noticed creeping across Saffron’s skin, but I think I’m enjoying making Saffron feel them.
“OK,” I say, making the final alterations to my ensemble. “You ready?”
“I’m ready,” Saffron says a little breathlessly. “Where are we going?”
Later, we’ll pick up our pumpkins, but for now we’re going to the woods. “Halloween is always a peak autumnal day,” I explain to Saffron as we walk deeper into the trees surrounding Williamson Park, “so I thought we should make the most of that.”
I bring us to a stop in the clearing and pull out a piece of paper from my jacket pocket.
“Here we have the ultimate autumn scavenger hunt. The first person to find every item on their list wins a prize.”
“What’s the prize?” Saffron asks.
“Their pumpkin paid for later on and all of the leftover treats from the trick-or-treaters tonight. I always overestimate how many there’ll be and end up with loads extra.”
“Oh, you’re on,” Saffron says. “I love a good lollipop.”
“Excellent. So, here you go.” I hand Saffron her list. “May the best person win.”
We start roaming around, scanning the ground, the trees, the sky, for any of the items on our lists.
“Aha, a conker!” Saffron finds one, burst open from its green prickly cage, on the ground among the mulchy leaves.
“Ooh, well done. It’s tricky to find them this late. The squirrels have usually ransacked them by now. Speaking of –” I point upwards towards an epicentre of twitching leaves and rustling in the branches above us – “I believe I’ve spotted a friend.”
A flash of grey fur scampering from bouncing branch to bouncing branch confirms my suspicions. “One each,” I say.
“The competition is heating up.” Saffron pockets the conker. “For this one – a leaf pile perfect for jumping in – do we have to come across one by chance, or can we manufacture one?”
“Hmm.” I rub my chin in mock-serious thought. “Given it doesn’t specify and leaf-pile making feels in the spirit of our whole objective, I think either?”
“Right,” Saffron says. “Well, then.” And, with that, she starts kicking up the leaves, drawing them towards a mini pile that was already there.
I don’t need any encouragement to join in. I start grabbing handfuls and chucking them on to the pile.
A couple of minutes later and we’ve managed to form a very respectable mound. “Now,” I say dramatically, “are you ready to jump in this bad boy?”
“I am. Let’s do it together.” She grabs my hand and we get in position to take a running leap.
We run and fly into the air, leaves dispersing everywhere, laughing as we stumble.
We begin grabbing handfuls of the leaves and throwing them at each other, autumn’s (crispier) version of a snowball fight.
Saffron tries to hide behind a tree but she’s not fast enough to avoid me filling her hood with a fistful of them.
I may be small, but I can be speedy when incentivised.
And teasing Saffron is definitely a great incentive.