The Windmill Café: Christmas Trees

Chapter 4

“Hello, it’s just me! The door was open. Coco! Coco! Come here!” came a sing-song voice from the vicarage’s hallway before the kitchen door was shoved open by the nose of a honey-haired Lhasa Apso who rushed in to greet them vociferously before claiming the perfect spot in front of the Aga. Clearly Coco had been there before. However, her owner wasn’t so comfortable to be met by a room full of visitors and visibly blanched when she saw the five women sat around the table hugging their matching Portmeirion mugs, all eyes resting on the new arrival. “Oh, hi. I didn’t realise everyone would be congregating here?”

“Hi, Corinne,” smiled Mia, getting up to fetch an extra mug and an empty plate when she saw Corinne was carrying a white confectionery box emblazoned with the Adriano’s Deli logo. “Thanks for coming over. Tea or coffee?”

“Erm, coffee please, black,” said Corinne, nervously flicking the sides of her short bob, the colour of liquid coal, behind her ears as she slipped into the seat next to Rosie and raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows in enquiry.

Rosie shrugged her shoulders. It was clear that Mia had asked Corinne to come over, but she had no idea why. She had only met the waitress from Adriano’s Deli once before when she and Matt had popped in to sample a selection of their delicious Italian confectionary. She felt the corners of her lips twist upwards when she recalled their brief conversation. It had turned out that Adriano had chosen to employ a waitress who was not only a committed vegetarian, but was also gluten-intolerant and therefore couldn’t eat anything that was on offer at his deli. However, that didn’t prevent her from enthusing over the myriad of pastries that were on offer, a selection of which Mia was decanting onto a platter adorned with a profusion of the ubiquitous Portmeirion flowers.

“Thanks, Mia. So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Corinne took a tentative sip of the coffee Mia had made for her, leaving a perfect imprint of scarlet lipstick on the rim of her mug. A waft of her signature jasmine perfume filled the air and her ruby nose stud glinted under the kitchen’s overhead lights as she glanced around the gathering.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard about the cycle accident in the woodland next to Ultimate Adventures?”

“Yes, Adriano told me. Awful, just awful. Wasn’t the victim one of your wedding guests, Grace?”

“Yes, and Theo also supplied our wedding cars. He and his girlfriend, Penny, came down to Norfolk a couple of days early so he could take part in the stag party celebrations. They’re staying at the Windmill lodges – with Sam and Zara, and Abbi and Dylan.”

“What’s the news from the hospital?”

“He’s going to be okay, thank God,” said Rosie, experiencing a sharp kick of discomfort to her abdomen as she contemplated how the outcome could have been so different. “Apparently, if Theo hadn’t been such an accomplished cyclist, he could have been seriously injured. His wound’s been stitched and he’s been advised to stay in hospital for a couple of days, but Matt says he’s adamant about not missing the Christmas Carousel competition – apparently he’s intent on producing a tree worthy of the Rockefeller Plaza!”

“Well, it’s a relief he’s in such good spirits,” sighed Carole, her kindly face relaxing as she selected one of Adriano’s home-baked cannoli stuffed with cream cheese and coated in crushed pistachios. “And that he’s not suggesting the competition is cancelled!”

“Only because he wants his name engraved on the inaugural trophy!” muttered Grace, rolling her eyes.

“But we still need to find out who did this, and why, as soon as possible,” said Mia, leaning forward on her elbows to press her point more forcefully. “Most of the wedding guests have either arrived or are on their way, so whatever you say, Grace, it’s too late to even think about cancelling the wedding.”

“Cancel the wedding? No way!” gasped Corinne, her soft Welsh accent thickening with astonishment at the suggestion.

“Mia, we can’t expect our friends to celebrate such a joyous occasion when there’s a crazy person running amok in the Willerby woods, can we? Right next to where the reception is being held! What if something else happens? And what if it’s Josh who’s being targeted? Oh my God, what if it was Josh who was meant to fall off his bike? What if someone wants us to cancel the wedding?”

Grace’s eyes widened with alarm and Carole gave her daughter’s slender shoulder a squeeze. “Darling, you mustn’t say things like that. I’m sure this whole unfortunate debacle will turn out to be a freak accident, and if not, then I’m sure the police will have the culprit under lock and key before the week is out. Your guests are perfectly safe and you and Josh are certainly not being targeted.”

Rosie’s heart filled with sympathy for Grace and Carole. The Coulson family had endured their fair share of tragedy over the years and certainly did not deserve to find themselves in such a predicament. She knew the absence of Grace’s younger sister, Harriet, who had died of meningitis at the age of seven, would be keenly felt during the celebrations and they could do without the added stress this incident had caused.

“So,” continued Mia, meeting Corinne’s wary silver eyes – she clearly suspected Mia had an ulterior motive for inviting her over for coffee at the vicarage apart from the chance to sample a selection of delicious Italian cream cakes. “Rosie and Matt have kindly agreed to put on their metaphorical deerstalkers again and attempt to unravel the mystery of who in their right mind would stretch a length of twine between two trees that straddle a cycle path! And you, Corinne, could be just the answer to our prayers.”

“Me? Really? How?”

If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Rosie would have giggled at the almost comedic look of horror on Corinne’s face.

“Well, there’s just so much to do, what with organising the first Christmas tree decorating competition and preparing all the festive food for the party afterwards,” began Mia, running the back of her hand theatrically across her forehead, keeping her mahogany eyes trained on Corinne like a puppy desperate for a chocolate treat. “Not to mention looking after the guests in the lodges. Add to that the investigation of the cycling accident and it all adds up to a lot of work for Rosie. Now, if we could find her a little bit of extra help, it would free up some time for her to resume her role as Matt’s intrepid partner. Oh, I mean crime-fighting partner, of course.”

Rosie missed Mia’s mischievous smirk because she was in the process of demolishing one of Adriano’s Cavallucci pastries, so preoccupied with relishing the flavours of anise, honey, almonds and candied fruit that her reaction to Mia’s suggestion was somewhat delayed.

“Mia, I’m—”

“So, I’ve had an idea.”

Mia ignored Rosie’s frantic gesturing and continued to address Corinne who was busy feeding the final crumbs of one of Carole’s mince pies to Coco. When she realised Mia had paused in her soliloquy, and that all eyes were trained on her, her forehead creased in confusion.

“What?”

“If Adriano can spare you from the deli for a few hours, would you be able to help me and Rosie out with the baking for the Christmas Carousel party? Just until the police have arrested the perpetrator, which could even be as soon as tomorrow? And I’m sure Graham wouldn’t mind you using one of the luxury lodges – complete with heated outdoor spa and Moulton Brown toiletries. Much more sumptuous than your room above the deli,” added Mia, her eyebrows raised encouragingly as she nodded her head in anticipation of Corinne’s agreement. “It’s three days at the most.”

“Well, I’m not sure I—” began Corinne, nervously stroking Coco’s soft fur as she cast around for an excuse to turn down Mia’s offer without appearing to be the curmudgeon who single-handedly prevented the Willerby Wedding of the Year from taking place.

“It’s the perfect solution,” added Grace, her tears dried, her face suffused with renewed enthusiasm. “With Rosie and Matt on the case, this whole thing will be solved in no time and Josh and I can concentrate on having the wedding day we’ve always dreamed of.”

“No pressure there, then,” muttered Rosie.

She glanced across the table at Corinne, intending to offer her a sympathetic smile; after all, she had often been on the receiving end of Mia’s ‘good ideas’ herself. Under the neon glare of the kitchen lights, she noticed for the first time that their visitor’s eyes were red-rimmed.

“Are you okay, Corinne?”

“I suppose so. It’s just well you know, this is all very shocking, isn’t it? Nothing like this ever happened where I used to live. I have to admit that I’m a bit scared. What if they’re still out there, the person who did this—lurking in the trees—watching us all? I usually walk Coco in those woods. Is it even safe to go there now?”

Rosie smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll be okay up at the Windmill lodges. Abbi and Dylan are staying in the shepherd’s hut, and there’s Sam and Zara in the lodges. Penny will be there by herself too until Theo is discharged from the hospital which probably won’t be until the end of the week, and I’ll be in my flat above the café. We’ll be fine if we stick together. Anyway, we’re not even sure that Theo was the intended target.”

“What do you mean?”

Rosie wished she’d kept her mouth shut when she saw the look of horror on Corinne’s face. A spasm of guilt sliced through her chest as Mia sent her a withering look.

“All I meant was that the police’s investigation is at such an early stage we don’t know anything for certain. It could have been an attempt at poaching gone wrong.”

“Okay. I’m happy to help you out with the baking, but I think I’ll just stay in the village and come over to the Windmill Café when I’ve finished my shift at the deli, if that’s okay.”

“That would be great, Corinne. Thank you,” smiled Rosie, an upward tick of enthusiasm bursting into her chest. Now that was sorted all she wanted to do was find Matt and get on with the search for the truth.

“Is that a yes, then, Rosie?” asked Grace, the desperation on her face sealing Rosie’s determination. “You and Matt will do it?”

“Hey, what am I getting volunteered for now?” asked the man himself from the doorway.

“Hi, Matt,” smiled Grace. “Is Josh with you?”

“No, he’s volunteered to help Freddie, Sam and Dylan. They’re doing a final sweep of the Ultimate Adventures woodland to make sure there are no more obstacles for the unwary to walk or ride into.”

Matt slumped down at the table, shoving the sleeves of his logoed Ultimate Adventures fleece up his forearms in a gesture of irritation at the selfishness of the person responsible for Theo’s injuries. Exhaling a long, ragged sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair so that it stood up into spiky blond tufts and made him look like he’d just left his surfboard at the back door. Rosie caught a stray whiff of his signature lemony cologne and was rewarded by the pleasurable twist she always experienced whenever she was in Matt’s company, accompanied by the delicious pull of attraction – something that she had missed since he had been avoiding her.

“Any tea left in the pot, Carole? Not had a decent cuppa since six o’clock this morning.”

“Of course. And Matt, now you’re here, would you please reassure Grace that it’s totally unnecessary to talk about cancelling the wedding. I take it the police already have a list of suspects they want to interview? Do they think this was a random attack or was someone in your cycling group targeted?”

“They’re working on the theory that we were targeted. I can categorically state that the wire was not there yesterday. Freddie and I inspected every route through the Ultimate Adventures woodland, including the shortcuts, in preparation for the final sprint of the cycle ride and every one of them was clear, which means whoever did this had to have installed the trap after dark in the full knowledge that the stag party would be passing through the next day. The police have confirmed that if Theo hadn’t been such an experienced cyclist, well—he could have been decapitated!”

Gasps of shock ricocheted around the cosy kitchen.

“Oh, my God!”

“Who would do such a thing?”

A curl of nausea twisted through Rosie’s stomach as she realised that once again they were dealing with a situation that could have been extremely serious. She had thought that when she escaped the London suburbs to make her home in a cute little windmill in the Norfolk countryside she was headed for a calmer, more relaxed way of life where nothing frightening ever happened. How wrong she had been, because since arriving in Willerby she had been involved in investigating a potentially lethal poisoning, an almost fatal shooting and now what? A potential garrotting? Ergh!

“Do the police have any suspects?” asked Mia, her eyes trained on Matt’s as she stroked Alfie’s ears.

“They’ve asked for details of everyone who took part in the cycle ride, and their partners.”

“What? Are they seriously suggesting that one of us had something to do with this?” demanded Abbi, spluttering her tea across the table, and, seeing the look of dismay on Rosie’s face, reaching for the kitchen towel to wipe up the mess. Unfortunately, this gesture wasn’t enough for Rosie and she left the table to go in search of the anti-bacterial spray.

“Well, if Theo was the intended victim, it’s a sensible assumption.”

“Oh my God, how awful!” moaned Grace, shaking her head in distress. “How can Josh and I even contemplate getting married when our guests are being interrogated by the police? It’s not what I had in mind when I said I wanted a quiet country wedding! This is all my fault!”

“It’s okay, love. Come on, haven’t we got a plan to sort out this whole unpleasant business quickly?”

Rosie caught Carole’s eye and saw her nod her head in the direction of Matt, her expression making her intention plain. However, before she could formulate the words to inform him of what Mia had cooked up for them, her friend had leapt into the breach, her enthusiasm sending Alfie from her lap to join Coco next to the Aga.

“We thought you and Rosie could join forces – like you did last time – to get to the bottom of what happened to Theo? Please say yes, Matt. Please say you’ll do this for Grace and Josh.”

Rosie stared at Matt, anxiety gnawing at her nerve endings as he took his time to respond to Mia’s suggestion. For a few seconds she thought he was going to refuse until his lips curled into his habitual grin with a side-order of mischief. In that instance she knew their previous closeness had not been eliminated by Harry’s reappearance in her life, and she knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Another Willerby Whodunnit!” Matt shook his head and Rosie loved the sparkle that had appeared in his eyes. “At least this time I can’t lay the blame at the door of the Windmill Café and its intrepid manager! I’m so sorry this has happened, Grace, and of course I’ll do everything I can to find out who’s responsible. In fact, I’ve already had a preliminary chat with Josh before I came over here.”

“Matt! You can’t honestly be suggesting that my future son-in-law…” began Carole, her jaw sagging at what she perceived to be a slur on Josh’s character.

“Of course not, but he’s the only one who knows all his stag party guests. So, apart from Freddie, Josh and myself, there was Archie from the Drunken Duck, whom I’m also inclined to discount, and then Sam, Dylan and Theo.”

“Well, I really can’t believe Dylan had anything to do with it!” declared Grace, swinging her gaze apologetically to Abbi who was staring at Matt askance. “Or Sam, and I don’t know much about Theo because I only met him for the first time this week, but you can’t seriously be suggesting that he did this to himself!”

“Of course not, and it turns out Josh doesn’t know Theo as well as the others, either. He only invited him to take part in the cycle ride because Theo’d offered his vintage Rolls for the wedding as a favour. Apart from Penny, it’s Sam and Zara who know Theo the best – apparently he’s their sons’ godfather.”

Matt pushed back his chair, picked up his plate and mug and carried them over to the sink where he tossed them into the soapy water and left them. Rosie suppressed an eyeroll and, out of habit, she rose from the table, collect everyone’s plates and mugs together, rinsed and then dried them with a flower-sprigged tea towel and returned each one to its allotted space on the Welsh dresser. Matt could bring chaos to an empty room if left to his own devices, but she was self-aware enough to realise that her perception could simply be the result of her own addiction to order and extreme cleanliness, a trait that had reared its ugly head more often since Harry’s reappearance on the scene.

Despite Harry’s disloyalty, she had adored working in their little florist’s shop in Pimlico, experimenting with ever-increasing creativity in the sphere of bridal floristry. On the other hand, she also enjoyed her gastronomic adventures in the Windmill Café and relished being given a free-rein to showcase the very best that British confectionary had to offer. She loved baking up a storm with Mia at her side, not to mention the possible resumption of what she had thought was a long-forgotten dream – to return to college so she could follow in her father’s footsteps and one day, maybe, qualify as a solicitor. She wondered briefly what her sister Georgina would say when she told her she was considering studying A’ level law at the local High School where Mia’s mother was a food technology teacher.

So, if she accepted Harry’s business proposition, it would mean relocating back to London and the chance of resuming her education would be, if not extinguished, put on the back burner. The stress of her prevarication had reawakened her cleanliness demons from their former slumber, so the sooner she made her decision, the better. However, now was not the time for a spot of soul-searching but for gathering facts. Her brain whirred into action and questions bounced around thick and fast.