Page 22 of You Had Me At Pumpkin Patch

Wow, had she really just come out with a terrible line about bat houses?

Not that she was trying to pick Zain up – especially not after the awkward leaf in your hair incident.

She was just curious about flying mammals.

And she did have pumpkin-shaped truths to discuss with Zain, whether he wanted to hear them or not.

‘You want to see my bat houses? Out in the fields?’ He seemed surprised.

Well, she’d half hoped they could inspect the ones in his hut, which were presumably empty. Somewhere warm, that smelt like cedar and manly musk, and where she might cadge a cup of tea, if teabags weren’t too cutting edge for him.

She held up her chin, pretending she wasn’t wearing Snoopy pyjama bottoms with a mud patch on her rear.

‘Of course in the fields. I’m not scared.

The other day, I didn’t even scream at the snake in your pumpkin compost.’ He hopefully couldn’t see she had her fingers crossed behind her back or hear her heart racing.

‘And I make bug houses. I care about this place too, you know.’

‘I did receive Wingsor Castle,’ he said, clearly fighting the edges of a smile. ‘As strange as it was.’ He shrugged and paced back towards her, eyeing her patterned wellies doubtfully and grabbing her hand. ‘Walking boots would have been safer, but you’ll be all right.’

Now she had her hand tucked inside his, she had a strong sense she would be – even if the thought seemed peculiar.

Click clack click click clickkkkk...

She jumped and moved closer into him. If she could only get used to these funny bat noises.

As they crept around the edges of the fields, their path lit only by the screen of Zain’s bat detector and the iridescent moon, they slid into all kinds of unlikely chat.

Zain pointed out the bat boxes he’d apparently made from old wood and fixed into the trees.

When he launched into a lively whisper about bat roosting and mating seasons, he was quick to apologise, mumbling something about his lack of conversation skills and being an oddball.

Rosie squeezed his hand, which she was only still holding for health and safety reasons.

‘Nothing is odder than the couple of weeks I’ve had.

I feel like I’ve literally seen and heard it all.

’ And while there was no way she was going to admit that she’d misjudged every single man in her whole history of relationships, including, perhaps, her late sort-of fiancé, she did find herself spilling the tale of walking in on her ex trying to conjugate with a life-like sexy robot.

Zain turned to look at her, his eyes dancing with confusion. ‘What?’

‘Exactly. And that was just moments after I lost my writing job to a computer chatbot thingy called Kimberkoo Chat. Artificial Intelligence that’s more creative than me.

’ She huffed into the night, her breath producing a cross little cloud, which made her want to laugh at the sheer stupidity.

It felt like a lifetime away now she was here.

Zain’s decades-old bat screen was surely the most state-of-the-art thing she was ever going to contend with at Autumn Meadows, and she didn’t mind if technology had better ears than her.

‘K... K... Kimberkoo?’ Zain seemed to have trouble getting the word out.

‘I know, extraordinary name. I didn’t even dignify it with a Google search, because I don’t want to see the thing in action.’

‘Right,’ he said, scratching the back of his neck.

‘My old boss reckoned it could probably script whole love stories. Can you imagine? It’s just nonsense, isn’t it? Talk about technology overstepping the mark.’

‘ Overstepping the mark ,’ he grunted back. ‘Wait. Your job was writing? Thought you were something to do with organising retreats?’

‘Yes!’ she said quickly, trying not to grimace. ‘That too. I do all sorts, really. Creative things. Did I mention I’m writing a novel?’

His eyes widened. There, that usually distracted people. She didn’t need to admit that her previous attempts had been rejected for being strangely bereft of romance, or that her current fictional hero was based almost entirely on him.

‘I’d better not be in it.’

‘Nooooo. Writers never use people they know.’ Much.

They walked on for a while in silence, Rosie behind Zain, his usually strong shoulders appearing slack.

She’d expected more of a grilling on her slip-up over job roles, but presumably her full-blown robot-sex revelation had trumped the fact she liked to write stuff.

That was bound to turn even the toughest person a touch queasy.

She wasn’t usually such an over-sharer, but Zain had been sharing some of his heart too, even if he hadn’t meant to.

Rosie tried to turn the conversation back to bat chat, but it didn’t engage him. Zain’s arms hung at his sides, the bat detector almost forgotten. Even the bats had gone eerily silent.

Since the mood was already broken, maybe it was a good moment to tackle the other subject that had been filling her with dread. They weren’t going to get anywhere talking about kinky androids or winged mammals.

It was time to get real, and she finally had Agnes’s permission to do so. She took a deep breath and balled her fists.

‘I need to start laying down plans for these retreats, here on the farm. As you saw today, it’s getting quite urgent.’ She winced, fully expecting a backlash.

Instead, she got another huff.

‘Agnes didn’t want to worry you, but if we don’t use the retreats to scrape together the funds to fix her roof by winter, she’ll have to find another option. Right now, the only obvious one is to start selling off the land.’

Zain stopped abruptly, his back stiffening. ‘Sell it to who? What about my pumpkin fields?’

‘The only people interested are a tech company. I think they’re more into mass-producing robo-creatures than preserving anything that’s living.’

He spun around to face her, his eyes feral in the moonlight. ‘What?’

‘They make robot cats, and they want this land to build a factory.’

Zain’s face was a knot of angst, and if it was possible to see a heart breaking through all those layers of jumper, she was seeing it now.

‘A factory?’ His voice was still low, but every part of him was shaking like he might just explode. ‘A dirty big concrete mess over the top of everything I’ve been trying to grow? And not for the first time, why has nobody breathed a damned word of this to me before now?’

Rosie remembered Agnes calling him an undetonated bomb, but it probably wasn’t prudent to mention that.

‘Agnes hoped it wouldn’t come to that, and she didn’t want to upset you.’

‘Upset me?’ The flashing red eyeballs were back.

‘What am I, a child? What upsets me is everybody lying. So if there is anything else you’ve been hiding from me, I suggest you tell me now.

It works out well for you that I don’t want to disturb the bats, because you do not want to hear the full force of my fury. ’

Rosie swallowed hard, thinking of the other bombshell that would cause even more wreckage.

He took a step back and exhaled, as though realising that even his quiet aggression was a lot. He rubbed a hand against his temple.

‘There is one more thing,’ Rosie said slowly. Well, one more thing he had to know. She’d still be harbouring her own closet skeletons, if she didn’t want to get the sack.

‘The thing is... Agnes had some advice. The best way to create real interest for the retreats is to offer what this farm does best. We need to give people the sort of retreat experience they can’t find anywhere else around here.’

His forehead creased. ‘What the hell? Not naked wild swimming? I was pissed off enough about hipsters in swimming pants, but if they’re going to be parading round with their balls on display, hugging trees and getting pubes in the lake...’

‘No, Zain. The farm’s Unique Selling Point isn’t nudist swimming.’ She braced herself for the storm. ‘It’s pumpkins .’

Zain’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening like a pair of Baby Boos.

‘No. No way . I am not having people trampling around the place, poking their noses into my precious Warty Goblins, carving up my Crown Princes and wanting to turn my Casperitas into pumpkin-spiced latte.’

‘It would be nothing like that!’ Now wasn’t the time to mention that she really missed a pumpkin-spiced coffee. ‘I honestly think we can work together on this. Reach a compromise that suits everyone. Because it’s got to be better than the alternative.’

His face tightened.

‘The sort of people who’d want to visit would respect and love nature. They’d come to switch off from the outside world and to bask in these glorious surroundings. Doesn’t everyone deserve that chance?’

‘What others need is not my problem.’

‘But this land is. It’s a farm, Zain. And Agnes tells me it used to be a profitable one, in the days when her husband was alive. You worked with him too, didn’t you?’

His look was incredulous.

‘Everything you’ve been doing here is so impressive,’ she continued. ‘I’ve never seen so many pumpkin varieties. They’re beautiful. I’ve been learning more about them too, and their potential uses. But isn’t it all wasted if the crops aren’t being enjoyed or used for anything?’

She sensed the fields had become his own, slightly self-indulgent project, though she didn’t dare say it.

‘Just like us, a pumpkin doesn’t simply want to exist and then die. It wants its chance to be a pumpkin and do all of the things a pumpkin was born to do.’

A vein twitched near his temple, and was he actually baring his teeth?

‘A pumpkin wants its chance to be a pumpkin ? Well, now I’ve heard it all. Sounds like Kimberkoo Chat doesn’t have a patch on you.’

She was surprised he’d remembered its name.

‘All I’m saying is that farms should be productive,’ she replied, trying to sound calm. ‘Pumpkin patches can be hugely popular during autumn. And if we can offer wild retreat experiences with the glow of the pumpkin fields as a backdrop, we could really be onto something.’

He glared at her. ‘I came here for peace.’

‘Surely we could reach an arrangement that respects your privacy and your work, but still brings the retreats to life? You and me against the robot cats.’ She let out a nervous laugh.

‘There is no you and me ,’ he replied firmly.

‘I’m a lone weirdo who gets excited about bats and gourds.

And that’s exactly the way I like it. Gourds don’t lie or let you down.

’ He stepped around her, passing the bat screen to her, presumably as a source of light. ‘I’m heading back, and so should you.’

There was probably nothing out there but a few flying creatures and the odd fox, though at least it seemed he didn’t wish death upon her. Surely that was something ?

As they walked, Zain’s shape solid against the dark, starry sky, Rosie couldn’t help but feel for him.

Despite the fact she would never have had herself down as a nocturnal beast expeditioner, seeing Zain so animated about the bats had been a rare and magical treat.

She’d enjoyed spending time with him. They’d almost been getting along, until she’d had to ruin it.

But needs must.

And much like him, she didn’t have space for any you and me in her life – even if, now and again, in her wild, fictional imaginings, she did enjoy wondering.