Autumn Breeze

by Poppy Blake

‘Come on, let’s grab a seat in the snug,’ said Rosie before Mia could spill every detail to the inquisitive landlord.

  They carried their drinks into the back room and Rosie heaved a sigh that they had the place to themselves. However, no sooner had they sat down than they had company.

  ‘Hi, Rosie! Hi, Mia! I didn’t expect to see you both in here tonight,’ smiled Grace, Reverend Coulson’s daughter. ‘Mind if I join you? I just needed to escape the frenzied activity in the vicarage kitchen for a christening Dad’s doing at the church tomorrow. I don’t mind helping out, but Mum’s insisting on directing operations as if it’s a military manoeuvre instead of a christening for triplets.’

  The hug Rosie received from Grace was filled with such warmth, she was surprised to find that tears had gathered along her lower lashes. Grace would probably think she was being ridiculous but she couldn’t help it, her emotions were all over the place – understandable after the day she’d had, she argued in her defence.

  ‘So, I hear you’re in the middle of another murder mystery!’ said Grace, her grey eyes sparkling with interest as she plopped down onto the leather banquette next to Rosie, sipping her pint of Wherry, and shoving her blonde curls behind her ears.

  ‘No one was murdered, Grace…’ began Rosie.

  ‘Oh, why didn’t I insist on tagging along with you both on your wild camping trip instead of volunteering to make up the flower arrangements in the church? I always miss out on all the excitement. So, you’ve got to tell me everything! Josh told me that Matt and Freddie arranged the expedition to Garside Priory for a group of ghost-hunting enthusiasts who are staying at the lodges. He and Archie are already arguing over who could have shot Richard Forster, but you were both there – eye witnesses! Who’s on your list of suspects?’

  Grace replaced her pint on the bashed copper table and swung her eyes eagerly from Rosie to Mia and back again, rubbing her palms down her jean-clad thighs and causing her diamond solitaire to glint in the overhead lights.

  ‘It’s too early to make any assumptions…’ said Rosie but she was instantly interrupted by an excited Mia who was acting as though they were in some kind of am-dram theatre production in which the whole village had been assigned roles.

  ‘Well, my money’s on Phil Brown – he has the strongest motive for wanting Rick out of the way. All the guests at the lodges are members of some nerdy Myth Seekers club in Manchester. Phil used to be the club’s chairman and lead ghost whisperer until Rick arrived on the scene and elbowed him from the top spot. Apparently, Rick took over every aspect of the running of the club, apart from the accounts which he was happy to leave to Phil because, let’s face it, they’re boring.’

  ‘Wow, looks like you’ve really thought it through!’ said Grace, who had been slowly shredding a beer mat whilst digesting everything Mia had said. She collected the fragments of paper in her palm and aimed a throw at the log fire, but her aim fell short and the tiny pieces of cardboard tumbled like confetti onto the hearth.

  Rosie rolled her eyes and was about to kneel down to sweep the debris away when Matt arrived in the doorway of the snug clutching a pint of Guinness. She chastised her traitorous heart for leaping to attention at the sight of him. He had replaced his black Ultimate Adventures T-shirt and combat jeans with a lilac cashmere sweater and a leather jacket that moulded his muscular torso to perfection. Attractiveness oozed from his pores – or maybe that was just the effect he had on her as no one else seemed to have lost their train of thought when he’d appeared – yet the arcs of tiredness beneath his eyes spoke of the stress he was under.

  ‘Any news?’ Rosie asked.

  ‘Helen rang me just as I was pulling into the car park. She’s back from the hospital. They’re hoping to operate on Rick’s ankle in the morning, but she also said that Rick’s thinking of giving an interview to the local press about what happened, supposedly to raise the profile of the myths and legends of East Anglia, but I’m concerned about the possible backlash.’

  Matt slumped down next to Rosie, taking a long draught of his beer to calm his worries about the business. He ran his fingers nervously through his hair, his lips tightening into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  ‘We have to find out who did this as soon as possible! I can’t have the press sniffing around, dragging Ultimate Adventures into the spotlight, spouting rubbish about the health and safety risks of being shot by a stray archery arrow. You know how these journalists love to twist everything to get a sensational story out of the mundane. Imagine what they could do with this! You can bet your last pound they will say it was one of Ultimate Adventures’ activities gone wrong, especially as we do happen to offer field archery courses and tuition – but we never, ever shoot after dark, or first thing in the morning!’

  ‘Well, once you and Rosie put on your sleuthing shoes I’m sure you’ll have the mystery solved before those reporters have had a chance to sharpen their pencils,’ smiled Grace, raising her glass in a toast of confidence.

  ‘Did Helen have any news on whether the police have located the bow?’ asked Rosie.

  ‘She didn’t mention anything, and I didn’t ask.’

  ‘Could it have been one of the bows from Ultimate Adventures?’ asked Mia.

  ‘No, definitely not. I’ve checked our storeroom and everything is as we left it, thank God. It’s not only my business I’m concerned about, though. This area of Norfolk needs all the visitors it can get. We don’t want holidaymakers cancelling their trips for fear of an encounter with a rogue archer wandering round the woodlands picking off unsuspecting walkers and hikers at random.’

  ‘So you think this was a random attack, do you?’ asked Grace.

  ‘No, I don’t. I think Rick was the intended target. What I don’t know is whether they just wanted to incapacitate him or if it was something much worse, but whatever the reason, its origins lie in Manchester and not Willerby or Ultimate Adventures.’

  ‘Do you think it was one of the guys you took on the expedition to Garside Priory?’ said Grace as Freddie joined them from where he’d been chatting to Archie and Josh at the bar.

  ‘If you ask me, they all seemed a bit odd - Rick, Phil, even Brad and Emma,’ said Freddie, taking a seat next to Grace. ‘For a young couple in their twenties they were surprisingly fanatical about extending their spectrum of extreme sports. I’m not criticizing them – extreme sports are my life’s work and I love every aspect of the outward-bound business and activities, but those two are seasoned adrenalin junkies, the more danger and the higher the risk, the better. Fell running, wild swimming, free climbing, and their addiction to running marathons borders on the psychotic.’

  ‘Those hobbies don’t come cheap, either,’ added Matt, narrowing his eyes as he thought through what Freddie had just said. ‘Insurance for a start is beyond most people’s means. I’m not sure what they do for a living, but it has to be something that not only produces the funds but also gives them the flexibility to pursue their crazy goals.’

  ‘So you have three suspects to get your teeth into?’ asked Grace.

  ‘No, five. I don’t think we should rule out Helen or Steph.’

  ‘Really? You think his wife shot him?’

  ‘Well, wives do tend to be the ones with the best motives,’ grinned Freddie, draining his pint and leaving the snug to fetch another one.

  ‘Even if Helen’s got nothing to do with it, we still need to talk to her to get some insight into what Rick’s like as a person, although I can make a few assumptions about that without her help,’ mused Matt. ‘To be honest, when I spoke to her just now she didn’t seem as upset about what had happened as I expected her to be, but that could be delayed shock. She told me she intended to take a sleeping pill and go straight to bed.’

  Rosie flicked her gaze from the depths of her wine glass to Matt. Helen was the second person now to have referred to having sleeping tablets in their possession. But how could she have administered the sedative? And another idea occurred to her too.
What if her silver-haired friend wasn’t a hired hitman, but her lover? She wanted to run that new hypothesis passed Matt, but decided to adjourn her conjecture until the next day when she didn’t have such an extensive audience and changed the subject.

  ‘How are the wedding arrangements going, Grace?’

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll get a refill before Archie calls last orders,’ announced Matt with a grimace, almost sprinting away to the bar where Freddie was chatting to Archie and Grace’s fiancé.

  ‘With Mum on the job everything is progressing at lightning speed,’ smiled Grace, shooting a look of complete devotion at Josh. ‘Dad, of course, is overjoyed at being able to perform a wedding ceremony for his own daughter and he’s been tweaking his sermon for weeks. I told him to keep it short – you know what he’s like! And the village hall is going to look so pretty, even if it snows.’

  ‘Well, getting married on Christmas Eve, you’ve got to plan for that possibility,’ said Mia, her eyes sparkling with the romance of it all. ‘Anyway, it’ll all look amazing with a sprinkle of snow and garlands of fairy lights.’

  ‘Mum’s been baking since August. Our wedding cake is made, just needs to be iced. The cars are arranged, too. One of Josh’s friends owns a vintage car hire company and insisted we have the pick of the crop. And, of course, Mum’s friends from the WI have the floral side of things neatly sewn up. Josh’s brother, Mark, is walking me down the aisle – well, Dad can hardly do it, can he? And his sister, Josie, and my friend who I went travelling with, Abbi, are my bridesmaids. Josh’s parents are flying over from Hong Kong the week before, so that’s it! Everything is organized.’

  Grace scooted to the edge of her seat and met Rosie’s eyes.

  ‘You will come, won’t you, Rosie? And you must bring a plus one, erm, if there is a plus one?’ She raised her perfectly groomed eyebrows, a twinkle of mischief playing in her eyes. ‘If you haven’t got anyone you’d like to bring, then I’m sure Matt would be delighted to step in and be your escort for the day. He told Josh he didn’t have a plus one sorted yet. I know how hard it will be for him to come to a wedding at St Andrew’s church after what happened with Victoria, so it would be great if everyone rallied round to keep his mind off things – and I can see how well the two of you have been getting on.’

  ‘I’m sure Rosie would love to attend your wedding on the arm of the extraordinarily handsome Matt Wilson!’ beamed Mia, giving Rosie a blatantly lascivious wink.

  Rosie rolled her eyes at her friend’s transparent matchmaking efforts, but she was happy about being invited to Willerby’s wedding of the year. Grace radiated happiness as she spoke of her approaching nuptials and she deserved her special day to go smoothly. Even though her father had a direct line to the orchestrator of their fates, the privilege hadn’t protected the family from experiencing tragedy when Grace’s younger sister Harriet had died from meningitis at the age of seven. It was a cruel grenade to toss into the lives of such wonderful people but Grace and her parents, Carole and Roger Coulson, had dealt with the agony with such dignity that they’d taught Rosie a great deal about coping with grief in all its guises.

  ‘Thank you, Grace, it’s very kind of you to invite me. I’d love to come to your wedding, and if you need any help with the food, or the flowers, you only have to ask.’

  ‘Thanks, Rosie. So? Will you accept Matt’s offer to escort you?’

  ‘Erm, pardon?’ spluttered Matt, arriving back in the snug to hear Grace’s loaded question. His bright blue eyes filled with alarm, and Rosie realized immediately that he had intended to make an excuse not to attend the wedding at St. Andrew’s church.

  ‘Grace, is it really necessary to be escorted to a wedding in the twenty-first century? I mean, I can…’

  ‘Great, that’s settled then. I’ll add you both to the guestlist, no need to RSVP. Okay. I’d better get back home. Mum wants me to help her bake another batch of scones for the Baby and Toddler group tomorrow. Bye.’

  The light in the room seemed to dim in Grace’s absence, but the only thing Rosie noticed was the uncomfortable sensation of a steamroller reversing over her bones, and from the look on Matt’s face she could tell that made two of them.

  Chapter 11

  Blades of autumnal morning sunshine sliced through the clear blue sky tantalizing those below with the promise of a crisp, dry day. Rosie stood at her bedroom window in the little windmill, listening to the rustle of the leaves in the gentle breeze and feasting her eyes on her favourite scene – one which she would never grow tired of appreciating.

  London had its urban beauty and architectural magnificence, but the view from her flat above the Windmill Café won first place in the natural beauty contest. In the distance, the surface of the North Sea always echoed the weather of the day – some days dark and foreboding, angry even; others blissful and calm – but that morning it seemed to dance with a cascade of iridescent pearls. If she turned her head to the right she could see the luxury lodges nestled in the field next door like sleeping puppies wrapped in an emerald blanket and snuggled against the russet-coloured woodland in whose depths Ultimate Adventures was hidden.

  A surge of belonging enveloped her, swiftly followed by one of gratitude for being accepted as part of the community of Willerby so quickly. She’d even been invited to her first wedding! With some difficulty, she tore her eyes away from the view, patted her childhood teddy bear for luck, and jumped into the shower. She selected her smart black dress trousers and a jade green sweater which enhanced her amber curls and slotted her toes into a pair of ballet pumps. With minimal attention to her make-up routine she took a final glance out of the window and trotted down the stairs into the café kitchen to whip up a batch of lemon drizzle cupcakes.

  Baking was her solace; the antidote for when things became too much for her to cope with. Whenever she could focus her attention on beating a bowl of butter and sugar with a wooden spoon, she was able to block out all unpleasant and unwelcome thoughts and simply enjoy being in the moment – like a kind of culinary meditation. And it had the added bonus of not only bringing happiness to her, but to everyone who shared in the results of her labour.

  She set the lemon cupcakes to cool on a wire rack, the aroma of caramel and tangy lemon causing her stomach to growl with anticipation. She had just finished washing the floor and was busy fixing a cafetière of coffee, when Matt appeared at the French doors.

  ‘Mmm, that coffee smells amazing. Any chance of a mug?’

  ‘Of course. Actually, I’m glad you came over, Matt. I wanted to talk to you about Grace’s invitation yesterday. I know how difficult it will be for you to attend a wedding at St Andrew’s after what happened with Victoria, so if you’d rather…’

  ‘You’re right, it will be tough to return to the very place I had the dubious honour of being a jilted groom, but with a little help from my friends I’m happy to report that I’ve moved on. In fact, being a guest at Grace and Josh’s wedding is the perfect way of laying old ghosts to rest, once and for all. And there’s no one I’d rather stand next to in those pews than you, Rosie.’

  Matt took a step towards her, his eyes holding hers, his lips parted slightly. A whoosh of heat flew through her body, sending pins and needles out to her extremities and all cogent thought from her mind. Her knees weakened as he drew closer and she felt his minty breath on her cheek as he continued, his voice gentle and sincere.

  ‘I know Freddie thinks you’ve brought a whirlwind of chaos to our lives since you arrived in Willerby, but without you I wouldn’t have even contemplated stepping foot in the church. I know you came here for a fresh start, but your arrival has provided that to others too. I have a great deal to be thankful to you for, Rosie, not least your willingness to help me to find out who’s trying to destroy my business.’

  Matt’s lips were millimetres from hers and her internal choir was screaming ‘kiss me!’ She inhaled a long breath, excitement and exhilaration curling through every part of her, her heart p
ounding in anticipation. Arrows of desire shot southwards and all she wanted to do was block out reality and melt into his arms.

  ‘Matt, I…’

  ‘Hello? Anyone home? Oh, hello, Matt! I didn’t … sorry, Rosie, I don’t want to intrude.’

  ‘It’s okay, Phil, come on in.’

  Rosie laughed as Phil’s cheeks coloured when he realized what he’d stumbled in on. Could she really see him resorting to mastering the sport of archery simply to shoot the overbearing and obnoxious chairman of his beloved club? Brad clearly thought so, but she was prepared to reserve her judgement until she had spoken to him, and what better time than the present. From the look on Matt’s face she knew he was thinking exactly the same thing.

  ‘Do you want to join us for a coffee? And I’ve made a fresh batch of lemon drizzle cupcakes, too. Actually, I was wondering if anyone in your group would like to come over to the café this morning for a tutorial in all things cake-related. It might help to keep everyone’s minds off … well, off everything?’

  ‘I think the girls would love that, and so would I. I have to admit to feeling somewhat apprehensive about the impending visit from the police, but I’m just as anxious as everyone else is to find out who did this to Rick – mainly so I can shake the guy’s hand.’

  ‘I take it from that comment that you didn’t like Rick Forster much?’ asked Matt, handing a cup of black coffee to Phil before replenishing his own.

  ‘No one liked him. He was rude, disrespectful, arrogant, opinionated, selfish; take your pick. He totally ruined our club!’

  Matt indicated the table next to the French doors. ‘I don’t know whether you’ve heard, but the police have asked me to close the doors at Ultimate Adventures. It’s not only my livelihood at stake, but that of Freddie and Mia, too, not to mention the trade my clients bring to Willerby – it’s imperative that the mystery is cleared up swiftly. So, do you mind if Rosie and I ask you a few questions?’

  ‘I don’t mind at all. We all want to know the truth about what happened, but Rick was way out of line when he accused one of us of shooting him. Of course, I’m sure we all wanted to, but no one would have had the courage to do it!’