Читать книгу The Windmill Café - Poppy Blake - Страница 12

As soon as they had settled Mia on one of the overstuffed sofas in the café, she fell asleep, curled into a tight ball like a newborn kitten. Matt called Carole, explained as succinctly as he could what had happened and asked her to activate the Willerby grapevine to see if anyone else had fallen victim to a potential food poisoning bug.

The final gasps of the evening sun streaked through the windmill’s windows sending a kaleidoscope of pretty colour through Rosie’s dreamcatcher. She felt as though it was a slap in the face after the way the day has ended. All the hard work she and Mia had put into making the first Windmill Café garden party a success had backfired spectacularly. Not only was there a distinct possibility that she had poisoned their first celebrity guest with her baking, there was also the chance that Felix would follow through with his threat and call in the food inspectors which could lead to the closure of the café, if not permanently, then certainly temporarily.

Rosie couldn’t hold her emotions in check any longer and an avalanche of distress flowed through her veins. Could she have been responsible for giving the whole of the village food poisoning? If so, it would not only be the end of her career in the catering business, but there was a distinct possibility that the Windmill Café would never recover from the negative publicity. And even if the café wasn’t closed, it was hardly an encouraging advertisement for a friendly village café where just eating a scone or indulging in a toasted teacake could mean you’d be taking your life in your hands.

What would she do if she was fired? Where would she go to next? Was she destined to be a nomad, lurching from one trauma to the next? Had she been a fool to think that she had at last found a place amongst friends where she could be happy? Why did life always have to drop grenades in her path? First her beloved dad, then the debacle with Harry, and now the Windmill Café. What was Graham going to say when he found out? If he had to close the holiday site down as well, he would be facing possible bankruptcy because of her.

Hot tears gathered along Rosie’s lashes and she would have succumbed to a bout of weeping if she had been alone, or with just Mia to share her distress, but she didn’t want to crumble in front of Matt who always seemed to exude an air of practicality in the face of adversity. She didn’t want him to think she was some kind of helpless female. She turned her back and, for want of anything else to do, set the kettle to boil. She grabbed the huge brown teapot from its designated resting place in the cupboard and three mugs, hand-painted with a windmill design.

‘You know, Rosie, this kitchen is so clean it could be pressed into service by the local heart surgeon. If you ask me, there’s no way any of the food you made for the garden party could have been contaminated with even a microscopic germ. You saw how much Suki had to drink, it was probably something to do with that.’

‘I hope so. I couldn’t bear to think that my food has poisoned everyone at the garden party,’ she said, handing Matt a mug of steaming tea.

‘It’s far too early to be making any assumptions, Rosie. Anyway, where’s your self-belief?’

She tried to smile, grateful for Matt’s support, but she knew it didn’t meet her eyes. Uncontrolled emotions continued to churn through her body causing her to feel lightheaded. She was ashamed to admit that she craved the indulgence of a session with the bleach, an almost overwhelming urge to grab a cloth and start scrubbing the already immaculate benches to wash away the non-existent bacteria that could have been responsible for Suki’s illness.

She took a seat on the sofa opposite a gently snoring Mia, surreptitiously pushing her hands underneath her bottom and starting the counting exercises that her sister Georgina had taught her when her compulsion to clean was at its peak after her breakup with Harry. She knew Matt was aware of her discomfort, but he said nothing for which she was grateful.

One of the reasons she felt so contented in Willerby was because of her attachment to Mia, Matt and Freddie. But was everything she had achieved in overcoming her heartache after leaving London about to be extinguished with a flick of fate, forcing her to move on to somewhere new? If that was the case, she realized with a spasm of guilt, she hadn’t fulfilled her promise to join Matt and Freddie for a day of high-octane shenanigans at Ultimate Adventures, despite their constant cajoling and encouragement. She met Matt’s vivid blue eyes and saw a gentleness that melted her reserve. She suddenly felt as though she could say anything to him and he wouldn’t judge her, especially now that she seemed to have been pulled into another drama that was destined to ruin her life.

All her energy seeped from her veins as uninvited memories of her relationship with Harry began to crowd her thoughts. She saw Matt watching her closely as she chased her indecision down blind alleyways, and suddenly she wanted to open up to him about the reasons why her self-esteem had been at rock bottom when she’d arrived in Willerby.

‘The reason my confidence is battered is because Harry, my ex, told me repeatedly that the only thing I was good at was keeping the little flower shop we ran together in Pimlico organized and spotless. Of course, in a way he was right. I don’t have any formal training in floristry, my educational background is in catering. It took me months of persuasion before he allowed me to design a wedding bouquet for one of our clients and he was so dismissive of my initial attempts that I nearly gave up.’

‘I take it you didn’t?’

Rosie saw Matt’s jaw tighten and was grateful he was on her side. She could have done with a friend like him around when the worst happened. However, simply meandering the memory maze caused the familiar emotions of worthlessness to rear their obnoxious heads, and the muscles in her stomach contracted painfully. Yet, her time at the Windmill Café with Mia’s constant cheerleading ringing in her ears had enabled her to understand that the problems she had experienced had been instigated by Harry’s dismissive behaviour towards her and she was able to look upon the termination of their relationship from a totally different perspective. As her sister Georgina had repeatedly told her, what Harry had done was reprehensible whichever way you looked at it, and this gave her the courage to continue with her story.

‘One of the first flower shop clients I was “let loose” on was a magazine journalist who wanted to renew her wedding vows. I spent hours researching her favourite flowers, peonies, and I managed to find one called “Bride’s Dream” – a gorgeous, frilly white flower that I paired with baby’s-breath and wrapped in glossy dark green foliage. Even if I say so myself, her bouquet was stunning. Harry begrudgingly said it was acceptable.’

Rosie could picture the posy as though it were nestled on the table in front of her. She had loved the photographs that Annika had emailed to her the week after her ‘second honeymoon’ in the Maldives. She had even printed a couple off and framed them, much to Harry’s disapproval.

‘But the best thing was, Annika loved the flowers so much she wrote a special feature on fresh new ideas for bridal flowers and asked me to design three additional bouquets to showcase in her article. I was over the moon! That article increased our business four-fold and as a result we started to get commissions from minor celebrities.’

Rosie paused, unsure whether she could go on. Recalling that painful time was making it difficult to breathe normally and her heart hammered a concerto of distress against her ribcage. Of all the friends she had made in Willerby, only Mia knew about Harry’s infidelity, minus the details about how she found out – it was just too embarrassing. She saw that Matt was listening to every word she said, his expression serious, and she suddenly wanted to get the whole terrible episode out in the open. Maybe if she gave her demons wings, they would fly!

‘I never forget things – it’s one of my, erm… well, my personality quirks. I was on my way to meet a harpist at one of the West End theatres to discuss ideas for her bridesmaids’ bouquets when she called and asked me to take a few flower samples to show her. I doubled-back to the shop to collect the beautiful white calla lilies that we’d just had delivered that morning and… well, imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon Harry getting more than a little acquainted with one of our brides underneath the chrysanthemums. Talk about saying it with flowers! The two of them were practically screaming it!’

Rosie dashed away a solitary tear in irritation. That sharply focused image had been imprinted on the insides of her eyelids for far too long. What had happened was in the past and she had moved on.

‘Rosie, I’m so sorry.’ Matt reached out to squeeze her hand and an intense burst of his citrusy aftershave made the corners of her lips curl upwards despite her sadness.

‘Thanks,’ she muttered, grateful to see the genuine empathy in his eyes

‘You probably won’t believe this, but I know exactly how you feel.’

‘Really?’ She attempted a weak smile. ‘Did your ex-girlfriend cause the cancellation of a two-hundred-thousand-pound wedding? Because that’s what happened. Heidi was due to say “I do” to a Greek shipping lawyer the following week. She had called into our shop to finalize the guests’ buttonholes and apparently couldn’t resist sampling everything that was on offer. Surprisingly, they’re still together, although Heidi refuses to work alongside Harry in the shop. It was four months ago and whilst I no longer have feelings for Harry, I’m still working on my forgiveness skills.’

She would never forget the first words Harry had said to her when she discovered the two of them together – ‘Oh, Rosie, what a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you back so soon!’. She had later realized that it was indicative of how far her self-confidence had dipped when she’d only just managed to bite her tongue to stop herself from apologizing for her unfortunate timing and inviting him to continue. Instead, she had simply swivelled on her heels and taken the first train down to Hampshire where she had sobbed the whole sorry saga to her sympathetic mother and her furious sister. She had not set eyes on Harry again, despite his pleading for her to return to the shop to ‘fulfil her obligations’.

When Rosie reconnected to the present, she suddenly felt lighter, cleansed somehow, of the residue of gloom she had been carrying around with her since that fateful day when Harry had gawped at her unexpected appearance in mute disbelief. She sought Matt’s eyes, wanting to thank him for listening, and was shocked to the core when she saw the ragged torment scrawled across his attractive features.

But before she could ask him about it, he had shoved back his chair and strode over to the sink. When he turned back to face her, the anguish had vanished and she wondered if she had imagined it. However, she knew she hadn’t, that there were things hidden deep within Matt’s soul that he clearly wasn’t ready to divulge and she had to respect that.

‘Look, Rosie, we’re going to get to the bottom of this poisoning mystery. No one wants to see the Windmill Café close its doors. People come for miles for your chocolate fondant roulade, not to mention your cherry and almond drop scones and the café’s an integral part of the community now, right up there with the Drunken Duck and St Andrew’s Church – just don’t tell Reverend Coulson I said that. And didn’t Graham say how happy he was with the Facebook advertising campaign you organized for the lodges? It’s solely down to your hard work and enterprise that you’re fully booked until the end of October.’

‘Thanks, Matt.’

‘So, I’ve had an idea.’

‘What sort of an idea?’

‘Why don’t we investigate what has happened ourselves? You probably didn’t notice with all the drama going on, but when we found her, Suki’s lips had a very faint bluish tinge. If that’s right, it’s definitely a sign of some sort of poisoning. We know there’s no way Suki could have been poisoned by anything that came out of the Windmill’s kitchen no matter what Felix says – so how could it have happened? Fancy a bit of amateur sleuthing to keep your mind off all those negative scenarios I can see churning through your head?’

‘Really?’ spluttered Rosie.

It was the last thing she had expected Matt to come up with. Yet her spirits had already notched up a level at the thought of doing something positive, and she could hear her dad’s voice ringing joyfully in her ears telling her to go for it.