Rosie watched Matt stride off towards his office to catch up with Nadia. Would she have spiked Heidi’s drink if she had been presented with the opportunity? Of course not, it was Harry she held responsible for the termination of their relationship, not Heidi. Matt was way off course. She had seen the genuine affection in Nadia’s eyes when she spoke of her best friend and her flourishing music career and she knew Nadia was another suspect they could strike from the list. They were running out of options and if they didn’t find out the truth soon, Rosie suspected the finger of accusation may very well swing back in her direction when Felix discovered her background in floristry.
However, before she could dwell on that scenario, her mobile sprang into life and she knew she had much more pressing matters to deal with. The environmental health inspectors had arrived at the Windmill Café.
Chapter 17 (#ulink_203973f8-1a3f-5932-99f0-4a4bc73713ca)
‘Thanks for coming with me, Matt. I owe you.’
Anxiety gnawed at her abdomen as they headed back to the café. She had known the inspectors would be arriving at some point that day but it didn’t make the fact any easier to accept. When they pulled into the car park at the Windmill Café, her heart lurched as she saw not only Dr Bairstow’s Range Rover, but a shiny black 4X4 with blacked-out windows in one of the other spaces. Rosie knew she was being ridiculous, but she had never seen a more ominous vehicle.
‘Graham should have made the effort to be back in the UK by now. He could have caught a flight as soon as you called him. It’s really not fair to leave you to deal with this on your own! It would be a tragedy if Willerby lost its landmark café and anyone who has ever enjoyed a meal from its kitchen will have been left in no doubt how pristine the place is. You have nothing to worry about, Rosie. We know the cause of Suki’s illness was someone spiking her throat spray which was probably carried out before your guests even arrived in Norfolk. All you have to do is meet the inspectors, answer every question they ask, and they’ll move on to the next business more deserving of their time and expertise.’
‘Thanks, Matt.’
A surge of confidence washed over Rosie. With Matt at her side she felt like she could conquer anything – look how she’d handled her very first attempt at field archery under his careful instruction – although there was a lot more at stake this time. She jumped down from the passenger seat of his SUV and strode across to the café with purpose, keys in her hand.
The day was well into its third act, the sky strewn with bruised clouds threatening a repeat of the earlier rain that had left a slick coating of moisture on the lawns and puddles dotted across the terrace. Rosie pushed back the French doors to let as much light and air into the kitchen as possible.
She took comfort in the fact that whilst she wasn’t responsible for the cleaning of the lodges – Graham employed a local business to do that – she had personally checked each lodge before Suki’s party had arrived and they were all spotless. Matt was right, she should have more self-belief.
‘Okay, I’ve just been over to Suki and Felix’s lodge. Dr Bairstow is there with the two environmental health inspectors,’ said Matt, arriving in the café’s kitchen and snatching up a slice of cherry flapjack. ‘I’ve told them we’ll be waiting for them in the café. I hope they’ve brought their gas masks because this place stinks of bleach!’
Apprehension swirled around Rosie’s body whipping her breath from her lungs. She needed something to do with her hands but there was nothing left for her to clean. She gave Matt a weak smile, grateful for his support and not wanting to give him the impression that she was anything less than confident in the outcome of the investigation. Sadly, she would never be worthy of an Oscar in the Best Actress category and she knew her fake bravado hadn’t fooled him.
‘Rosie, I know how stressful this is for you, but you have a lot of friends here who…’
‘Are you open? I could murder a cup of tea!’
Dr Bairstow’s ruggedly handsome face appeared at the French doors, the bump in his nose testament to his enduring hobby. His shoulders were so broad and muscular, Rosie was surprised his presence didn’t block out all the natural light. Her spirits edged up a notch when she saw he was smiling as he rubbed his palm over his bristly beard.
‘No problem, take a seat. Dr Bairstow…’
‘Philip, please. Suki’s still giving her statement to the environmental health guys but it seems she has no idea how the substance could have got into her spray. She makes it herself from a recipe she got off the internet which of course does not include aconitine! We’ve tested each of the ingredients separately and there’s no trace of poison in any of them, including the honey you gave Suki from the kitchen, Rosie. By process of deduction, we now know that the poison was in the bottle itself before she filled it.’
‘Does that mean the Windmill Café is in the clear?’ asked Rosie, so overwhelmed with relief that she struggled to prevent tears from forming along her lashes.
‘Yes, but the inspectors will still want to take a look around before they leave, just as a formality, then I’ve advised Suki to call the police. Understandably, she is struggling to come to terms with the confirmation that someone intended to cause her harm, someone who knew about and had access to her throat spray.’
‘Thanks for coming to tell us,’ said Matt, holding out his palm as Rosie put down a pot of Earl Grey and a slice of flapjack in front of Dr Bairstow.
‘Ah, Rosie, you’re a lifesaver. Would you believe that this is the first food to pass my lips since yesterday lunchtime? My partner is on holiday with his family in Provence and I’ve been on call for the last week without a break. Mmm, this flapjack is delicious, could I take a couple of pieces with me?’
‘Of course, and they’re on the house.’
‘Do you think you’ll reopen the café this afternoon?’
‘No,’ said Matt before Rosie could even decide what she intended to do. ‘I think Rosie and Mia deserve a day off to recharge their batteries. And a trip to the beach is calling our names.’
‘Well, have fun, and thanks again for the flapjack, Rosie.’
‘It’s me who should be thanking you, Doctor… erm, Philip.’
‘No thanks necessary. All in a day’s work. Catch you later.’
Matt and Rosie waved the doctor off just as Felix arrived on the terrace.
‘Ah, Rosie, I was wondering if you could rustle me up a round of your delicious cheese and cucumber sandwiches?’ he asked, flashing his incongruously white teeth, his perfectly shaped eyebrows raised in question.
‘Actually, the café is closed,’ snapped Matt, in case Rosie was thinking of wavering. ‘And I would have thought the first thing you should be saying to Rosie, and Mia when you see her, is how sorry you are for throwing around unsubstantiated accusations that could have forced the Windmill Café to close for good, not to mention the fact that Rosie would have lost her home.’
‘Of course, I’m filled with remorse,’ Felix replied, not looking at all contrite despite supposedly being an accomplished actor.
Rosie took a couple of moments to consider the man lounging against the countertop in her kitchen. Felix Dawson was handsome, there was no denying it; over six feet tall with well-honed muscles, light blond hair that had been enhanced by well-placed highlights, and of course that toothpaste-ad smile. Yes, he was attractive in a plastic kind of a way, but boy did he know it. His pale lilac shirt had been immaculately pressed, not a crease dared to invade its crispness, and his tan was clearly genuine having spent most of the summer at Suki’s villa in Ibiza. He gave the impression of someone totally relaxed in his own skin, arrogant even.
She met his eyes and was shocked to experience a frisson of desire curl through her veins. His irises were such a perfect shade of turquoise, they reminded her of the Mediterranean Sea when the midday sun sparkled on the surface of the waves. Clean-shaven, his well-chiselled jawline could have been sculpted by a maestro of design. He exuded a faint hint of woody cologne which invaded her nostrils and added to the pull of attraction, and he had even managed to erase his native Mancunian accent to speak in the rounded tones of a BBC news reporter. But it was his smile that brought Rosie back down to earth. She wouldn’t want to be standing next to him in ultraviolet light. She would need to wear her sunglasses or run the risk being blinded.
‘Sorry, Felix. Matt and I were just on our way out…’
‘But I suppose if it’s just a sandwich you’re after then we can delay for an hour or so.’
Rosie did a double-take. What was Matt talking about? Hadn’t he just informed Felix in no uncertain terms that there would be no food cooked at the Windmill Café that day. She opened her mouth to protest, but saw Matt give her an almost imperceptible wink and took the hint. Clearly he hadn’t given up on earning his detective badge just yet.
‘One cheese and cucumber sandwich coming up. Do you want a coffee?’
‘Please and a slice of that flapjack, if you don’t mind.’
As Rosie made her way to the kitchen to put on her apron, she strained her ears to listen in to the conversation as Matt made the perfect opening gambit.
‘So, Felix, I hear you’re an actor?’
‘I am. Actually, I’ve just finished filming a role as a playboy aristocrat in the next series of a costume drama, Fountain’s Abbey. Have you seen it?’
‘No, I’m afraid not.’
‘It’s set in the Scottish Highlands. I play…’
‘And how long have you and Suki been together?’
‘Oh, yes, well, let me see. I met Suki, William and Nadia at Sheffield University about five years ago, but Suki and I didn’t get together as a couple until January this year. We bumped into each other at a New Year’s Eve wrap party for a TV detective series I’d been in and we’ve been together ever since.’
‘Do you live together?’
Rosie put the sandwich down in front of Felix, turning her head slightly so she could raise her eyebrows at Matt without Felix noticing. She was surprised, and a little concerned, that Felix didn’t seem in the slightest bit reticent about answering Matt’s somewhat intrusive questions. But then, he was clearly one of those people who relished every opportunity to talk about themselves and their careers.
‘I moved into Suki’s flat in Kensington in March. She went out to Majorca at the beginning of May to stay with William’s parents and to sort out a villa to rent in Ibiza for the summer. I followed a couple of weeks later – with Jess in tow. You’ve seen what she’s like, probably would have ended up in a harem in Bahrain if I hadn’t been with her. William and Nadia also rented a place in San Antonio, but it wasn’t a patch on Suki’s – much to Nadia’s disgust. She was always round at our place, lazing by the pool, eating our food, drinking our booze. Should have seen her face when William announced he’d got Suki a recording contract. I was expecting a catfight.’
‘How did you feel when Suki was offered the recording deal?’ asked Rosie, getting drawn into the story as more details of Suki’s life emerged.
‘Well, we had a fabulous celebration at Suki’s favourite restaurant in Santa Eulalia. We drank so much champagne that night I don’t remember much about it to be honest. Of course, I was ecstatic that she’d finally achieved her dream. So ecstatic, in fact, I proposed.’