The Windmill Café

‘Thank you.’ Rosie cut the call and turned to Mia who had been following the conversation. ‘We need to speak to Suki. Come on.’

‘But what about Felix?’

‘We’ll work something out.’ Rosie ran down the stairs and joined Matt in the garden. ‘Any news?’

‘No one’s seen him.’

‘I’ve just spoken to Dr Bairstow. He hasn’t heard from Freddie either, but thankfully there’s been no more cases of food poisoning reported. He suggests we speak to Suki – after all, she was the last one to see him before he disappeared.’

‘Okay. Let’s go.’

Before they had even got back to the SUV Matt’s mobile burst into life. Rosie watched on, her heart pounding against her ribcage, sending up a fervent request that the director of positive outcomes was back from her vacation.

‘Okay, thanks for letting me know. We’ll be right there.’

‘Well?’

‘Found him.’

‘Thank God,’ muttered Rosie and Mia in unison. ‘Is he okay?’

‘Well, he isn’t writhing in agony from ingesting a dose of poison, if that’s what you mean. However, he’s really upset about what has happened to Suki and he swears he has nothing to do with it.’

‘So, where is he?’

‘He’s at the vicarage with the Rev and Carole. He wanted to go straight back to the lodge to see Suki, to make sure she was okay, but bearing in mind Felix’s temper, I thought it best if he stayed where he was.’

‘Good call,’ muttered Mia.

‘Oh God!’ exclaimed Rosie as something else occurred to her. ‘I completely forgot. I should call Graham in Barbados to let him know what’s going on.’

‘I know it’s not my decision, but why don’t you wait until the morning,’ said Matt, climbing up into the driver’s seat. ‘Any explanation is going to be easier on his ears when you know for certain what caused Suki’s sudden illness. The Windmill Café’s reputation would take a hit if it turns out to be a food poisoning scare, but if she was targeted, then that puts everything in a totally different light – you can’t be held responsible for that. However, I also think we should hold back on mentioning that theory when we talk to Carole. You can shoot me down all you want, but in Willerby, gossip spreads like burgundy wine on a cream carpet and we still can’t rule out the fact that Suki took something herself. “Singer Takes Accidental Overdose”, well, no news there, is there?’

‘Okay, you’re probably right. I’ll call Graham in the morning. Let’s talk to Freddie and find out what on earth happened when he went back to the lodge with Suki.’

Rosie was still worried about the café, but doing something positive, like talking to the people involved and trying to piece together exactly what had happened, made her feel better, more in control of events, rather than simply succumbing to the feelings of disorientation and panic. As they made their way to the vicarage, a number of theories ricocheted around her brain: had Sukie taken an overdose? From what Jess had said, it didn’t seem likely. And if it wasn’t accidental food poisoning, all that was left was that Suki had been targeted by a person or persons unknown.

But who? And, more to the point, why?

Chapter 9 (#ulink_228a3a4d-ff5c-5ba3-b751-55274fdc8543)

The handsome sandstone vicarage crouched beneath a canopy of trees, a battalion of arboreal obelisks embroidered with cobwebs and draped with necklaces of glossy ivy. With rectangles of amber light winking at its bay windows, the building took on the resemblance of a stone-hewn sailing ship moored against a backdrop of rippling leaves that undulated to the waltz of the wind. A solitary coil of silver smoke trailed from the chimney and merged with the night sky.

Rosie leapt from the passenger seat of Matt’s SUV and sprinted up the stone steps to the impressive front door that Carole had chosen to paint a cheery red, closely followed by Mia. She raised her hand to press the doorbell but paused. Why wasn’t Matt with them? She turned to look over her shoulder and, through the windscreen, saw him slumped over the steering wheel gazing at the entrance to the church on their right.

‘What’s wrong with Matt?’

‘Oh my God! With all the worry about Freddie, I completely forgot!’ exclaimed Mia, her eyes filled with contrition and sympathy. ‘This must be the first time he’s been back to St Andrew’s since…’

Mia interrupted her explanation to rush back down the steps to talk to him through the driver’s window. Rosie wanted to follow her, but the expression on Matt’s face caused her to hesitate. He was obviously undergoing some kind of internal emotional struggle, shaking his head and making regretful gestures to Mia. Whatever had happened at the church, or maybe at the vicarage, to prevent him from rushing inside to talk to his friend must have been traumatic.

Rosie suddenly wanted to know the details, wanted to offer her support just as Matt had done for her when she had unburdened her own pain at the café whilst Mia slept. That dark haunted look she had seen earlier was now clearly etched in his eyes so she knew she hadn’t imagined it. Had he lost someone close to him and the church held distressing memories? If so, she wondered who.

Mia continued with her persuasion, but Matt refused to budge, slamming the gearstick into reverse and zooming back down the driveway, leaving Mia staring after him in concern.

‘Matt’s asked us to meet him at the Drunken Duck.’

‘But, why? I don’t understand…’

However, Mia had pressed the doorbell and Reverend Coulson answered their summons immediately. He smiled in welcome and led them into the kitchen, the real heart of the home, where Freddie was huddled at the scrubbed pine table, his fingers laced through the handle of a mug containing something strong. He didn’t look up when they joined him but continued to stare morosely into the bottom of his cup as if searching for answers in its depths.

‘Freddie?’

‘I didn’t do anything, Mia! Nothing! Nothing at all. We just chatted about music for less than five minutes and then I left.’

‘I know, I know,’ Mia soothed.

Rosie loitered at the kitchen door, unsure whether Freddie would prefer to talk to Mia without her listening in. Just as with Matt, she and Freddie had hit it off immediately and she loved his quirky sense of humour and tendency towards comedic exuberance when he’d had a couple of beers. However, she also knew he was a softy at heart who would do anything for his friends and she knew that the shock of hearing about Suki would have upset him tremendously.

‘Unless I can assist, I’ll leave you in peace,’ said Reverend Coulson. ‘Carole and I will be in the drawing room if you need anything.’

‘Thank you, Reverend, but Matt’s waiting for us at the Drunken Duck,’ sighed Mia, giving Roger Coulson a meaningful glance that conveyed everything to the vicar and Freddie and nothing to Rosie. ‘Freddie? Are you up to joining us?’

Freddie raised his eyes to Mia’s and nodded. He grabbed his denim jacket and followed them along the passageway to the front door, his whole body slumped like a puppet clipped of its strings. They bade goodnight to the sympathetic vicar and made their way down the gravel drive back to the entrance gate.

‘What’s going on, Mia? Why wouldn’t Matt…’

‘Later, Rosie.’

‘Oh, okay.’

Rosie fell back a couple of paces behind Mia and Freddie, a little startled at the way her enquiry had been closed down. Mia’s reaction reminded her that despite her deepening connection with Willerby, she was still a newcomer and after all, she had been probing for details about Matt’s personal life which perhaps he would want to keep to himself. She understood that, but it made her feel like she was back in the school playground, excluded from the whispered gossip that she had always thought was about her after her self-confidence had dipped when she’d lost her father. But this definitely wasn’t about her, so she ignored the nip of hurt Mia’s words had inadvertently caused and strode forward to rejoin her.

The Drunken Duck was on the opposite side of the village green to the vicarage. Its whitewashed façade glowed with golden light from two large iron lanterns which also illuminated the large letters proclaiming its name. Mia pushed open the heavy oak door and guided them towards the back room. Immediately, Rosie was enveloped in a warm, welcoming hug of buzzing chatter, interspersed with the occasional burst of laughter, rippling against the background tune of a classic Beatles track. A faint aroma of yeasty beer, mingled with baked dough from the huge pizza the customers next to the fireplace were in the process of devouring, met her nostrils and she relaxed.

When they arrived in the snug, Rosie was surprised to see Matt looking almost as morose as Freddie. She ached to ask what was going on, but the priority was to talk to Freddie who had slumped down on the banquette next to his friend.

‘Hey, Matt. Sorry about holing up at the vicarage…’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Matt, visibly dragging his mood out of the doldrums to concentrate on the task in hand. He flicked a glance in Rosie’s direction and she was gratified to see that the earlier sadness had been replaced by a hint of seriousness in his deep blue eyes.

‘Listen, Freddie. Suki’s boyfriend has arrived and he’s got it into his head that Rosie’s responsible for making Suki sick. Felix has called in the authorities and is demanding the café is shut down. If that happens, Rosie could lose her job and with it her home. Now, as anyone who’s been in the Windmill Café’s kitchen knows, there’s no way Suki’s illness could be down to careless food preparation and I thought we could help her by investigating the real cause. So that means you have to tell us exactly what happened between you and Suki when you went back to her lodge. No matter how intimate or embarrassing. If you would rather Mia and Rosie left…’

‘No! Honestly, Matt, there’s no need. Nothing happened. Is Suki okay? I swear to you, she was absolutely fine when I left her. Is it true what Carole told me? That someone may have tried to poison her?’

‘It’s a possibility, but Dr Bairstow says we should wait for the results of her blood test before we start speculating.’

‘But how? Why?’