Page 49 of You Had Me At Pumpkin Patch
The look on Cassius’s face when he opened the door to the flat Rosie used to share with him in Cybourne Road was priceless.
Of course, she could have used her old key card or even her Boots points card to waltz straight in.
But no part of her wanted to witness a naked man getting jiggy with a robot, ever again.
‘You’re live on Instagram, so please do not swear. And I really hope you’re not shagging androids this time, you big, geeky perv.’ Flick’s head popped up over Rosie’s shoulder, her phone camera trained on Cassius’s face.
Flick was absolutely not recording, but Rosie didn’t care what he thought.
They were simply there to get the rest of her stuff – a task she’d been hiding from for far too long.
Among her things, there were personal items belonging to her late sort-of fiancé James. Those things needed a new home now too.
‘What in the world...?’ Cassius held up his hand like he was avoiding the paparazzi.
‘Which is pretty much what I said about your sexbot Zoe.’ Rosie laughed, because she was past caring what her extremely ex-ex got up to.
‘Don’t worry, just grabbing what’s mine.
We won’t ruin your love-in.’ She could just imagine him cosying up with his synthetic girlfriend collection, showing them his boring tech magazines and pretending to feed them prawn crackers.
‘There’s no love-in, Rosie.’ He reached over and batted away Flick’s camera phone. ‘Actually, I’ve missed you. I made a huge mistake with Zoe. She’s no fun at all and I can’t have an intelligent conversation with her.’
‘Save the sob story,’ said Flick, giving Rosie a gentle shove so that they both tumbled into the flat’s hallway.
Cassius’s eyes searched Rosie’s face. They were wide and sad, and in times gone by, she might have felt sorry for him and agreed to hear him out. But Rosie two-point-zero wasn’t giving him her time.
In fact, this swoop symbolised a great big, two-fingered salute to all of the past boyfriends who had less than measured up to what Rosie now knew she deserved.
Dingo Dave and his collection of knicker-stuffed plush toys.
That guy who’d been on Crimewatch . And of course, James, who she’d kept on a pedestal for far too long, even though she’d suspected for years that he’d been a two-timing dirtbag.
‘Serena, do me a favour,’ said Rosie, to Cassius’s voice-activated virtual helper. ‘Play Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone”. I want to enjoy this.’
For once, AI Serena didn’t even argue, or get her name wrong, accidentally-on-purpose. ‘Sure, Rosie. We’ve missed you.’
As Kelly belted out song lyrics to the clamour of drums, Rosie swept around the flat with Flick, throwing things into their collection of bags.
They yelled along to the so moving ons and the yeah, yeahs , until they were having a lot more fun than Rosie would have thought was possible, for such a dire assignment.
In all honesty, Rosie didn’t even like half of the things she was packing. She wasn’t sure how the next stage of her life would look, but she hadn’t missed her hair straighteners or other pointless gadgets.
‘I’ll send a van over for the rest,’ she told Cassius, who was looking sorrowful in the corner. Rosie had had her moment of triumph, and she was keen to make one more house call, so she could start the next day feeling fresh.
‘You don’t have to leave me,’ Cassius tried again, as though staying with someone who’d recently traded her in for a kinky sexbot was such a great option. ‘You’re welcome to stay.’
‘Thanks, but no thanks, Cassius. I’d rather eat my own toenails.’