THE WINDMILL CAFE_PART ONE_Summer Breeze Page 6

  Rosie hadn’t known Freddie for long, but, just as with Matt, she had connected with him straight away. She would never forgive herself if anything had happened to him. But the uncertainty was tearing at her mind so much that if they didn’t find him alive and well in the next few minutes she would be looking at her sanity in the rear-view mirror. All she felt like doing was opening her mouth and screaming, screaming until her voice cracked, but she knew she had to be brave and hang onto her emotions until they had the answer to the cause of Suki’s poisoning – then she could indulge in a falling-to-pieces scenario.

  Matt gave up pounding on the door and sprinted round to the back of the property, leaping over the white picket fence like an Olympic hurdler. Rosie and Mia followed him, managing to negotiate the fence in a much clumsier fashion.

  ‘Do you think he’s…’ began Mia, hugging her arms to her chest.

  Rosie slid her arm around her friend’s shoulders as Matt searched beneath the flower pots for a key.

  ‘Got it!’

  Rosie followed Matt up the steep staircase to Freddie’s flat, but a cursory glance told her straight away that Freddie wasn’t home. It wasn’t the typical bachelor pad – practical, functional, devoid of any real personality – but filled with gem-coloured cushions, throws and vibrant watercolours. She itched to adjust the furnishings, to straighten the picture above the mantelpiece that had been knocked off-centre, to wipe the dribbles of ash from the hearth, to clear the benches of the detritus of Freddie’s breakfast, but she managed to rein in her errant impulses.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ whimpered Mia.

  It was suddenly all too much for her and she burst into tears. Rosie dragged her into a hug, and with relief allowed the tears to fall down her own cheeks. Over Mia’s shoulder she watched as Matt rubbed his palm across his jawline, his eyes sombre, his brain working overtime.

  ‘I’m going to ring a couple of Freddie’s friends from the band. Maybe he’s with them, boasting about his dalliance with a famous rock musician.’ And he ran down the stairs into the back garden to make the calls.

  ‘Where do you think he is, Rosie?’

  ‘I have no idea, but I’m sure he’ll be okay wherever he is. Look, I’m going to ring Dr Bairstow to see if he’s had any more callouts.’

  Rosie tried to extricate her mobile from her handbag, but her fingers were shaking so much that she lost her grip and the phone tumbled to floor. She bent down to retrieve it and again, the feeling of light-headedness almost engulfed her, forcing her to slump onto Freddie’s surprisingly chintzy sofa and wait for the moment to pass.

  She needed to staunch the anxiety gnawing at her stomach for the time being, and ignore the fact that if she lost her job at the Windmill Café she would also lose her home. She thought she had moved on from the distressing events that had taken place in London, had even started to see an improvement in her compulsion to clean, but it seemed that dark grey raincloud had caught up with her again.

  ‘Hello, Dr Bairstow, it’s Rosie Barnes here. I just wondered whether there’s any news on new cases of food poisoning?’

  ‘None. I’ve called a couple of pals who were with you this afternoon and they all told me that not only are they fit and well, but they thoroughly enjoyed the garden party and are hoping that you will organize something similar at Christmas. I’ve also spoken to my colleague in Hamsterly, Doctor Mullins, and he’s having a very quiet evening, too – no callouts. I’m cautiously optimistic that the cause of Suki’s illness did not originate in the Windmill Café’s food. I promise to press the lab technicians for a swift result on the blood tests so I can completely put your mind at rest.’

  ‘Thank you, Doctor, that’s very kind of you. Could I ask you one final question? Have you heard anything from Freddie Armstrong at all? It’s just, erm, well, he left the garden party with Suki and we saw them go back to her lodge. He wasn’t there when Felix found Suki so we’re worried about him. He could have eaten or drank whatever Suki did – we’re having trouble contacting him and he’s not at home.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I haven’t had any calls about Freddie. Suki didn’t mention the fact she had a visitor in her lodge when I examined her. Of course, I understand her reticence. Have you asked Suki what happened to your friend?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then, I think that’s your next conversation. If I can help any further, please let me know.’

  ‘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

  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 si
lver 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?’

  ‘All we know is that Suki must have become unwell at some point after you left. We don’t know how or why. But,’ Matt softened his voice and held his friend’s eyes for a beat, ‘it does seem you were the last person to have been in her company. You have to help us understand what happened after you left the party together.’

  As Rosie waited for Freddie to explain, her heart hammered out a concerto of sympathy. Matt and Freddie should have been enjoying a well-deserved pint after a long week at the outward-bound centre and a stint volunteering at the Windmill Café garden party. She suspected they would be the first to put their names on the list when she was looking for help with her Autumn Leaves Hallowe’en party at the end of October – if indeed she was still around to organize it.

  ‘Really, Matt, I promise you, there’s nothing to tell. You saw what Suki was like. She must have downed at least two bottles of prosecco before we were even introduced. She was drunk, or so I thought. I was as surprised as everyone else when she dragged me off to the lodge like that. She’s gorgeous, and it was great to meet someone who loves music just as much as I do. Believe me, I had no idea she had a boyfriend. I’m not sure what I expected to happen when we got back to her lodge. I’m not even sure anything would have happened. I’d only had a cup of tea and a couple of warm beers so I was in full command of my senses, and, call me old-fashioned, but I prefer my date to know what she’s doing.’

  ‘What do you mean “she was drunk, or so I thought”?’ Matt pressed.

  ‘When we arrived at her
lodge, Suki disappeared into the bathroom. I stood at the window in the lounge. I just couldn’t get my head around what was going on. I was struggling with my conscience as to what to do next when she emerged, fully-clothed and as sober as my Aunt Marjory.’

  ‘What? But we all watched her swallow the entire contents of a bottle of prosecco,’ Rosie said. ‘How could she have been sober?’

  ‘I don’t know how, she just was. She offered to open a bottle of Moët she had brought with her, but I declined. Hate the stuff. I’m a beer and whiskey man, you know I am.’ His eyes sought Matt’s, silently pleading for his support. ‘Anyway, panic had started to set in. I mean, she’s on the verge of becoming a famous singer and who am I? No. I didn’t want to get involved in anything like that. I swear I was about to make my excuses and leave, when she apologized.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For the scene she had created on the lawn. She told me she’d had to make it look like she’d scored with a handsome guy. Had to make someone jealous. Teach them a lesson, like. Well, I was so relieved I didn’t have to explain my change of heart that it didn’t even occur to me to be offended at being used as some kind of pawn in whatever game she was playing.’

  ‘Then what happened.’

  ‘She pecked me on the cheek and ushered me out sharpish. It was only as I walked down the steps of the lodge that the shame and embarrassment at being unceremoniously dumped set in. All I wanted was a decent slug of whiskey to obliterate the humiliation, so I doubled back and walked through the fields to the village. I called in at the flat for a bottle of Jack and went down to the office where I knew I wouldn’t be disturbed. The next thing I knew, the Rev and Carole were hammering on the door like the world had come to an end. They knew everyone was looking for me and they came to find me.’

  ‘What time did you get to the flat?’

  ‘No idea. Probably just before seven o’clock. I bumped into Carole when I was walking across the village green on my way to the centre. She asked if I was okay, I mumbled something about being fine but she didn’t look convinced.’