Page 32 of You Had Me At Pumpkin Patch

Rosie was just finishing a morning swim in the lake when she heard them.

The water had its usual refreshing chill and there was a blanket of grey clouds looming.

It was probably going to rain. She was later than usual, having treated herself to a lie-in after their busy trial-run retreat.

People need rest , she’d told herself. Mainly because there’d been no one else to listen, with Zain back to being a grump.

As she pondered the thought of a quiet day in her writing nook typing something steamy about treehouses and large, quivering manhoods, the uninvited voices broke through the bullrushes.

‘It’s just one woman and a few tatty treehouses, isn’t it? What difference will it make?’

It was a man’s voice, but Rosie didn’t recognise it. She kept still in the water, hugging onto her inflatable float.

‘It’s the guy too,’ said another male voice. ‘And his fields of ugly pumpkins.’

‘What, the hermit in the hut?’ said a third guy.

They all laughed at that.

Rosie resisted the urge to climb out of the water and shout at them, even if Zain was sometimes a bit hermitty . She wanted to know what was going on.

‘Whatever it is, it’s no better than a cottage industry, with no cottage. They’re just trying to run a few retreats for wannabe, pumpkin-stroking nomads. All this wildlife crap is just a fad, anyway. They can’t compete with a factory.’

Wildlife – a fad ? Rosie gawped.

‘The old bird isn’t as keen on selling though, now she sees funny dungarees lady and the hermit as a viable option.’

Rosie clapped her hand over her mouth to hold back her gasp. Old bird? Funny dungarees lady? Who were these ageist outfit-shamers? And yes, she could compete.

‘Then maybe we need to up our offer again. Buy the old woman out of that ramshackle house too. I know she wanted a new roof, so her mangy cats didn’t drown.

But wouldn’t she prefer enough cash to get out of here and buy a new place?

Then we can dig everything up and have free rein.

The trees, the crops, the lake, the house.

So much easier if we flatten it all and pour in the concrete. ’

‘You’re all heart, Reginald,’ said one of the voices, with a quite annoying chuckle. ‘You’ll be offering to replace her foul felines with a batch of cyber cats, next.’

‘That’s not a bad shout,’ Reginald replied. ‘They don’t need feeding, and you can switch them off when you get sick of them.’

‘Yeah, and they’re not full of bloody fleas.’

‘That is enough,’ Rosie heard herself shout, her voice loud enough to carry over the lakeside foliage.

Even Steve, who’d been waiting patiently for her on the jetty, was hissing now – and she wasn’t even sure if hairless cats could have fleas.

Rosie was done with trying not to make a noise.

In fact, everything she’d just heard made her want to make more noise than ever.

If she wasn’t submerged in cold water, her blood would have been boiling.

She swam quickly to the jetty, her arms and legs thrashing like the sails of a very cross windmill.

She hauled herself out and marched around the bullrushes, not caring that she was now standing in a too small, borrowed swimsuit in front of three men in smart suits. They could take her as they found her.

‘I don’t know who you are, other than you’re clearly from Cyber Purrz.

But I do know that you’re behaving like very rude people.

This is not your land, and anyone who doesn’t care for faddy wildlife , our precious pumpkins or cats with real hearts does not belong here.

You need to leave, before I call security.

And you do not want to be set upon by six dogs and an angry hermit. It won’t end well for you.’

Rosie had no idea where she had just found her bolshiness from, or even whether these men were trespassing.

And she wasn’t sure Agnes’s collection of friendly mongrels would scrub up well as guard dogs, with their limited number of limbs and teeth.

The cats were probably scarier. But she wasn’t putting up with this nonsense on her quiet day off, because there was no excuse for bad manners.

The three suited men stood staring at her, their mouths open. One scratched his comb-over.

Rosie had felt like that little cartoon dog Scrappy-Doo marching over there, her fists almost circling, veins pumping with defiance.

Though now she was in front of them, they merely looked at her like she was a little bit odd.

It was a look she was used to, growing up next to her glamorous mother and sister.

A look she’d spent her life aiming to avoid, by trying to fit in .

And it was a look she’d barely thought about since she’d embraced life at Autumn Meadows. Until today.

Rosie felt her shoulders droop. Standing there with a tow float hanging limply from her waist, her body shivering, she began to sense the ridiculousness of it all.

This place had a way of sweeping you into a fantasy.

Of making you believe that anything was possible.

Though maybe she was just one weird woman who couldn’t make a difference with her tatty treehouses.

As the men looked at each other, Rosie felt a swoosh of material around her shoulder. A towel had been thrown around her and firm hands rubbed warmth into her upper arms. A throat was clearing itself to speak.

‘The lady’s right. You shouldn’t be here. Unless you want to join us as paying guests.’

Rosie could hear the sarcasm in the voice, which was coming from behind her. It was Zain’s.

‘Though we’re not officially open yet.’ Zain stepped in closer behind Rosie, looking over her shoulder at the men’s feet. ‘If you’re coming, you might want to reconsider your footwear. The farm’s not a shiny shoe kind of place.’

One of the men harrumphed and the other two shuffled awkwardly.

The sky above them darkened. Now Rosie came to look at them, they were quite comical, huddled together in their don’t get any mud on me single-breasted suits.

They were markedly different in height, as though they were going for the bronze, silver and gold award in being uncivil, without the podium. And it was them who didn’t fit in here.

‘We’re just doing our jobs,’ the smallest one muttered, half-apologetically.

The middle-sized one elbowed him in the side.

‘So am I,’ Rosie replied, straightening herself and lifting her chin. If nothing else, her mum had always reminded her that nobody took you seriously if you spoke to your feet – though her sister would add that she needed a pedicure. ‘And I’m getting quite good at it.’

‘She is,’ Zain warned. ‘And even I’m embracing it.’

Rosie’s heart swelled; was he back on board?

There was a great thundering clap overhead, as if the whole planet was agreeing with them – and moments later, the sky lit up like a silvery smile matching hers.

Rosie would usually have groaned at the arrival of thunder and lightning.

Like the three men were doing now, her head would have darted around, looking for shelter, because it was a pain to get your nice clothes wet.

But since she’d been here at Autumn Meadows – with Zain, and sometimes without him – she’d felt more connected to the ground beneath her feet and everything that grew here.

Even to the vast sky above, which brought a kaleidoscope of weathers that all now had their places in her heart.

And right then, with the elements cheering her on, she had never felt more of that oneness.

As the clouds began to drop rain onto the men’s dry-clean-only office attire, Rosie couldn’t help the triumph that was filling her.

It only looked like a passing shower, and maybe like her, it couldn’t change much in the long run.

But just then, it was making them use their briefcases as umbrellas and make haste off Agnes’s land.

‘Next time you trespass, we’ll call Steve,’ Rosie shouted after them, trying to keep the giggle out of her voice. ‘Then you’ll be sorry.’

When they were far enough away, she allowed herself to burst into laughter at the thought of the denim-waistcoated feline seeing off Small, Medium and Large, like a much better version of Scrappy-Doo than she had managed.

Though she knew her laughter was covering a whole lot of nerves.

Everything they’d been trying to throw together here did pale into insignificance against the might and money of a company that could afford land and factories and all manner of tech.

‘You need to get out of this rain and get warm,’ said Zain.

It wasn’t like her to forget his presence, or not to notice the rain that was now pelting down around them, soaking Zain too.

Perhaps she needed it to wash her thoughts clear.

They looked back towards his hut and then hers.

There was smoke coming out of her chimney.

Rosie sensed a battle going on behind his eyes, like he wanted something, but needed to resist.

‘You have your fire on. You should go.’ He pulled off his jumper and wrapped it around her towelled shoulders, then turned her in the direction of her hut. ‘And don’t worry about The Three Tuxedos. We’ll think of something.’

She laughed again, probably in mild hysteria. ‘I think they were wearing normal suits, although I’m pretty sure the small one had a cummerbund to hold his belly in. Though the name fits them. And will we? Think of something, I mean. Are you really going to embrace things again?’

‘After that?’ He took a deep breath. ‘Yes. I’m not letting them come in here and try to trample over everything you’ve worked so hard for.’

Wow. Was he putting her higher up his list than fighting for his pumpkins?

He began rubbing her shoulders again, tentatively at first. Even if someone had put a typewriter in front of her, she couldn’t describe how much she wanted him to come back to her hut.

To hold her again, to undress her by the fire, to make her feel warm and whole, like the night she’d slept next to him, drinking in his testosterone and heat.

She didn’t need anyone to fight her corner anymore – but it was bloody nice to have someone, and to make a stand for them too. To have him , even if she sensed it might only be as workmates from now on.

And if he really was in, they had a bigger mission now.

After seeing The Three Tuxedos and hearing their threats to make Agnes a more enticing offer, Rosie had the strong feeling they had to up their game with retreat plans. They needed to make a bigger stand.

She wriggled away and turned back to face him. ‘It’s time to take off the tow float.’ Her hands found the tie around her waist and loosened it. She let the loop drop to the floor and stepped out, feeling like a learner driver taking off her ‘L’ plates.

Though as much as she was ready to throw caution to the wind with retreat strategies, she’d have to rein in her emotions for Zain.

Maybe he was right. If they were going to bring in enough money to save the house and land, they’d need all their energy and focus.

Trying to juggle their confusing feelings – not to mention her unfortunate fibs – would throw them off track, as they’d recently proved on their retreat trial weekend.

‘Nothing dampens your determination, does it?’ He laughed, a little sadly.

‘Well, thank you for backing me up. You always know the right thing to say these days.’

He winced and took a step back and scratched the back of his neck.

‘No. That’s just it. I really don’t. I.

..’ He seemed to search the horizon for something, before looking back at her.

‘I’m just a stupid-arsed gourd farmer, OK?

Sometimes I mess things up. And I’m really sorry for running out on you the morning after we.

..’ His look was intense. His hand reached out as though he was about to have another leaf in your hair moment.

But he quickly snatched it away. ‘Please know it’s nothing to do with you.

The way I feel about you... oh God. There’s a lot you don’t know. ’

‘So tell me.’

Maybe if he had something hidden to share, she could offload some awkward mistruths too.

He shook his head. ‘Look, you’re shivering.

You should go. I’ll do what I can to help with things.

I owe you that much. As a colleague. And.

.. friend. But right now, that needs to be all – because I can’t be the person you think I am.

’ He gave her upper arms an amicable squeeze and turned her gently towards her hut, which was almost harder than him saying bugger off .

And what did his cryptic words mean?

She began her wet walk back to her cabin for one, willing her head not to look back. She knew he’d be standing there in the rain, watching her, instead of stomping back to his hut to get dry. She also knew he wouldn’t follow. But that would have to be OK too. There was work to do, wasn’t there?