The Windmill Cafe Part 2 Autumn Leaves

by Poppy Blake

  ‘So, have you and Rick been married long?’

  ‘Two years – actually I’m Rick’s third wife and I’m beginning to empathize with the other two.’

  Rosie saw a tightening of Helen’s jawline when she gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes, no doubt recalling her phone conversation with Rick that morning. The man really did seem to have a talent for rubbing people up the wrong way. Helen paused in her task of rolling a ball of cookie dough, flicked her long mane of hair over her shoulder, and fixed her heavily mascaraed eyes on Rosie.

  ‘Maybe it was one of his exes who shot him – I wouldn’t blame them. Rick probably drove them to the edge of their sanity after years of boring them rigid with his never-ending garbage about mystical beasts, ghost-hunting and ley-lines.’

  ‘I take it you don’t share his interest in the Myth Seekers Society?’ laughed Rosie.

  ‘Are you kidding me? A bunch of middle-aged men sitting around talking about fairy stories? No, I don’t share Rick’s crazy obsession. You know, I’m surprised he hasn’t got around to introducing compulsory costumes yet – wizard cloaks, pointed hats, magical staffs with special powers, or even insisting everyone grows matching Gandalf beards, although it’s possible that Phil may have started on his attempt.’

  Rosie cast a swift glance in Phil’s direction and giggled. Helen joined in and it was quite a few seconds before they calmed down, after which she knew their mutual merriment had formed a friendship and she felt emboldened to ask the next question as she rolled out her shortcrust pastry.

  ‘Do you and Rick have children?’

  For a moment, from the expression on Helen’s face, Rosie thought she had gone too far, that Helen was going to snap that it was none of her damn business and storm out of the café. However, as she continued to watch, Helen’s shoulders slumped and a veil of sadness floated across her attractive face. When she finally spoke, her voice was strained, as though it was being forced through a sieve.

  ‘Sadly not. I want children but Rick refuses to even discuss the subject. Nothing I say or do seems to change his mind. If he’d told me that before we got married I might have reconsidered our engagement. I don’t know, but one thing I do know is that I want a child in my life more than anything. I’m thirty-nine now and my time’s running out.’

  ‘Does Rick have children from his previous relationships?’

  ‘He has a child from his first marriage, but he split up with his wife a few months after the birth. He’s never had any contact. I’m not even sure whether it was a girl or a boy. It’s really sad. I’ve tried to persuade him to reconsider, but of course he refuses. His excuse is that he’s too busy. He’s a senior partner at Featherstone & Garner in Manchester, one of the city’s largest accountant practices, and when he’s not at work he’s chasing spectres around the world.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Helen. It must be a difficult time for you at the moment.’

  Silence descended whilst they finished their bakes and slid them into the oven. The café filled with mouth-watering aromas and a swirl of animated conversation about more light-hearted subjects until the products of their labour were cooling on the wire racks, ready for the best part – the tasting.

  ‘Helen? Phil, Brad and Emma are going over to the pub in Willerby for a drink. Do you want to go with them?’ asked Steph, appearing at their counter, wiping her hands on a tea towels and removing her apron.

  ‘Sounds exactly what I need, thanks Steph.’

  ‘I’m staying here. I’ve got a bit of a migraine coming on from all the worry.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll stay with you if you want me to,’ offered Helen.

  ‘No, you go and have a drink. It’ll do you good and I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Okay, see you later.’

  ‘Bye, darling,’ said Phil, kissing his wife on the cheek.

  Rosie watched them leave with Mia bringing up the rear carrying a huge Tupperware box destined for the vicarage. She turned back to Steph and saw her face was flushed a deep shade of crimson as she dabbed a scrap of handkerchief at her eyes.

  ‘Steph, what’s the matter? Are you okay?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Come over here and sit down. I know how distressing all this has been. Why don’t I make us a pot of tea and we can have one of those lovely scones?’

  ‘Thanks, Rosie’

  Rosie busied herself with the kettle and the tea pot, racking her brain for an indication as to why Steph was so upset, but she couldn’t come up with anything. She carried the tray to the coffee table next to one of the café’s plump white leather sofas and handed Steph a mug of sweetened tea, the ubiquitous balm of choice for the distressed the world over.

  ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘I’ve got to tell someone or I think I’ll go crazy. I’m not sure what it means, if anything, but … well, I saw Helen sneak out of her lodge late on Sunday night. There, I’ve said it.’ Steph leaned back on the sofa and let out a long sigh of relief. ‘I went to bed at eleven, as usual, but I couldn’t sleep because Phil was away at the Ultimate Adventures camp so I got up to make myself a hot chocolate and took it out onto the veranda to look at the stars. That was when I saw Helen take the Porsche and drive towards Willerby, not first thing in the morning as she wants everyone to believe.’

  ‘Really? Do you have any idea why?’

  ‘Well, the first thing I thought was that she was missing Rick just as much as I was missing Phil and that she’d gone to join him at the ridiculous wild camping expedition. God, I couldn’t think of anything worse! Rick told us all that we were here for a week of sightseeing and relaxation and the lodges looked so lovely on the internet that I agreed to tag along with Phil, but as usual, Rick had a totally different agenda. I knew there’d be some myth to track down, or some dark, dank dell to explore.’

  ‘Well, as you know, Mia and I were at the camp and Helen didn’t arrive.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So, where do you think she went?’ asked Rosie, her brain cracking up as she tried to join the dots.

  ‘I … you’re going to think I’m awful, but it’s been whirling around my head ever since I heard about Rick’s accident.’

  ‘What has?’

  ‘Helen could have driven to Garside Priory, shot Rick in the leg, then driven back to the village without anyone ever knowing she’d left her lodge.’

  ‘Erm, well, yes, I suppose she could, but she didn’t come back to her lodge, did she? She wasn’t here when we all arrived back yesterday morning. Of course, everyone thought she’d gone out early in the morning, not the night before. And what makes you think she would do something like that anyway?’

  ‘Well, there are a couple of reasons, one of which you know already. I’m sorry, but I overheard your discussion with Helen earlier. I know about her desperation to have a child and Rick’s abject refusal to entertain the idea. Cruel, if you ask me. He should have made his views on the subject clear before they got married, don’t you think? Or it could be the same old chestnut – Rick’s very wealthy, you know.’

  ‘You think Helen tried to kill her husband for his money?’

  ‘A tempting proposition, and one I have to admit I’ve considered on many occasions, but I would never have the courage to follow it through!’ announced Helen, who had appeared at the French doors and overheard the last sentence.

  ‘Oh my God! I’m so sorry, Helen. What must you think? I…’

  ‘It’s okay, Steph.’

  Helen came into the café and sat down opposite Rosie who could feel her face glowing with mortification. She took a long draught of her tea and let it dribble slowly down her throat to allow time for her heart rate to return to something approaching normal.

  ‘Helen, I’m so sorry…’

  ‘You’re only saying out loud what other people are thinking, Steph. But let me tell you something. If I had decided to shoot Rick with a bow and arrow, I wouldn’t have missed, but more importantly, I actually have a rock-solid alibi.’
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br />   ‘You do?’ whispered Steph, at last able to meet Helen’s eyes.

  Rosie knew exactly who Helen’s alibi was, and the pieces were starting to fall into place. She hoped Helen was about to confess the details of her rendezvous with the handsome silver-haired stranger so she and Matt could at least strike one person from their list of suspects.

  ‘I do, but if I tell you, can it remain confidential between us, please?’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure…’ began Rosie.

  ‘Oh, and of course, I’ll be completely honest with the police when they get around to questioning me. It’s just – I hope that won’t be until after Rick’s operation. He’s a bastard but I don’t want him to find out before he goes under anaesthetic. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to him.’

  ‘Okay, our lips are sealed,’ said Steph, fully recovered and sitting on the edge of her seat like an eager puppy waiting for a treat.

  ‘I was with a friend in a B&B in Willerby.’

  ‘A friend?’

  ‘A male friend.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘His name’s Tim Latimer and he’s a partner at Featherstone & Garner.’

  ‘A colleague of your husband’s?’

  ‘Yes.’ Helen lowered her lashes briefly to study her perfect manicure before meeting Rosie and Steph’s gaze head-on, a look of defiance burning in her eyes.

  ‘You’re having an affair?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘We’ve been seeing each other for six months. Tim’s the complete opposite to Rick. He’s actually interested in me as a person; he buys me flowers and chocolates, takes me to art galleries and the theatre when Rick’s off on one of his jaunts. I feel like a real woman when I’m with him. Tim and I want to be together and I’m going to ask Rick for a divorce.’

  Helen couldn’t hang on to her emotions any longer and they spilled over in a deluge of tears. She leaned forward and covered her face with her hands as Rosie rushed into the kitchen to fetch a box of tissues and an extra cup.

  ‘Thank you.’ Helen accepted a tissue and a mug of strong, sugared tea. ‘I don’t love Rick anymore, but I didn’t shoot him. I’ve spoken to Tim and he’s quite happy for me to give the police his details so they can confirm I was with him from midnight on Sunday night until ten-thirty on Monday morning – if you found Rick at eight o’clock on Monday morning then we both have alibis.’

  Rosie contemplated Helen for a few seconds before grasping her hands and giving them a squeeze. Helen had a difficult few weeks ahead of her but Rosie found herself hoping that her new friend would find happiness with the gentleman waiting for her at the B&B in Willerby. And maybe the child she so patently longed for.

  Chapter 13

  Rosie allowed herself a smile when she pulled into the car park at Ultimate Adventures, the memory of their ‘almost’ kiss still fresh in her mind. The familiar crunch of the tyres on the gravel was music to her ears because it meant she was about to spend time with Matt and Freddie, two of her favourite people in Norfolk.

  Of course, she hadn’t always felt so upbeat about arriving at the outward-bound centre. In fact, for the first three months of being in Willerby, she had steadfastly avoided gracing the wood-built headquarters for extreme sports with her presence. The very thought of flinging herself from a flimsy platform suspended ten metres from the ground filled her with horror, not to mention the sight of the mud-caked quad bikes lined up outside the storeroom waiting for a rider to take one of them for a spin.

  She had changed a great deal since arriving at the Windmill Café and she sent up a missive of gratitude to her guardian angel who had obviously just returned from a gap year. Six months ago, all she could think about was the heartbreak of witnessing her then boyfriend familiarizing himself with the intimate requirements of one of their bridal clients. Now, here she was, assisting a friend in uncovering the truth behind an incident that could affect the future of his business.

  Rosie’s thoughts then flicked to her father and how proud he would have been of her, not just for coming to a friend’s aid in solving the mystery, but also for having the self-confidence to even think she could do such a thing. All she had left to work on was her predisposition to recoil at the sight of clutter; something she was about to face imminently when she entered Ultimate Adventures’ office and kitchen.

  ‘Hello? Anyone in?’

  ‘Oh, hi Rosie, great to see you. Fancy a coffee?’ asked Matt, indicating the kettle with a nod of his head.

  ‘No, thanks, I’ve just had one at the café.’

  She averted her eyes from the jumble of washing up crammed into the sink and concealed a shudder of anxiety. She fought an almost overwhelming urge to grab a cloth and start wiping down the crumb-scattered benches – until she saw the state of the cloth! Fifty shades of grey came to mind – she wondered whether the kitchen had ever seen a spray of bleach. However, she hadn’t driven to Ultimate Adventures to spend the day cleaning.

  ‘Are you here for that zip wire ride you’ve been promising to try?’ asked Matt, a dangerous twinkle in his eyes. ‘No better time than when we’re closed to the paying public.’

  ‘You know that’s never going to happen, right?’

  ‘Never say never! Okay, so what about a quad bike safari? I thought I’d take the opportunity whilst we’re closed to give the bikes a good clean, but…’

  ‘Matt, I’ve come to tell you that we can strike off two people from our list of suspects. I’ve been doing a bit of … well, I suppose my father would have called it cross-examining, whilst we were baking this morning.’ She inhaled a long breath and relayed the details of her conversation with Helen and Steph. ‘So, we can definitely discount Helen and her friend Tim Latimer.’

  ‘Good work, Ms Watson. And you’ll be pleased to know that I haven’t been slacking in the amateur detection arena either. As soon as I got back here, I called Phil and asked about taking a look at the Society’s accounts. He was a bit hesitant at first, but relented when I told him that if we could identify Rick’s assailant quickly, the police might not need to question everyone. After seeing the books, I can understand his lack of enthusiasm.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It seems the Myth Seekers Society isn’t what you would call flush with funds. In fact, the accounts are in a complete mess. Phil was right when he told us he wasn’t the best bookkeeper, but it’s more than incompetence. Looks like our reluctant treasurer was helping himself to the money. Not a lot, and only two withdrawals, but still, if Rick found out about it I’m sure he would have wanted to expose him in the most humiliating way possible.’

  ‘And Rick’s an experienced accountant. It wouldn’t have taken him long to discover any discrepancies,’ added Rosie, not surprised to find she wasn’t enjoying the turn of events. She didn’t really want someone as nice as Phil to be the potential culprit.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘So, do you think Rick threatened to report Phil to the police for stealing from the members? That Phil decided to silence him and like everything else he does, he bungled it?’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit of a leap, but it’s a possibility, don’t you think?’

  ‘Okay, let’s talk to him about it, if only to rule him out as well.’

  She pushed her chair back, anxious not only to ask Phil about what Matt had found out, but also to get out of the cluttered room where she felt as though the walls were starting to close in on her, debris flying from the surfaces and whipping her emotions into a maelstrom of panic. Her heartbeat had quickened and this time it had nothing to do with Matt’s proximity and everything to do with the mess. However, before she was able to escape, Matt grabbed her arm, his face serious.

  ‘Rosie, I want you to know how grateful I am for your support. I haven’t told Freddie or Mia, but I’ve had to cancel five lucrative, corporate team-building expeditions this week and unless we open again by the beginning of next week, Ultimate Adventures will slip into the red. We ne
ed a minimum of three bookings every week to stay afloat. I’ve already fielded a couple of calls from Dan Forrester at the Willerby Gazette wanting an interview about what happened and asking whether we intend to offer any more wild camping trips this season. I wasn’t going to tell him that we’ve actually got another two planned before the end of November, because once this fiasco finds its way into the press we can kiss goodbye to those bookings too. It’s an absolute disaster.’

  Rosie’s stomach swooped down to her toes and back when she saw the anguish on Matt’s face and she was even more determined to uncover the truth than she had been before. She grabbed her phone and before Matt could refuse, she dialled Phil’s number.

  ‘Hi, Phil, it’s Rosie here. Thanks for sending the accounts over for Matt to take a look at. Would you mind if we asked you a few more questions? We could come over to your lodge or you could drive up to the office at the outward-bound centre – bring Steph if you want.’

  ‘Okay. I won’t pretend I wasn’t expecting a call. We’ll be with you in thirty minutes,’ sighed Phil, making it clear that he would rather swim naked in the North Sea in the middle of winter.

  ‘Great, see you then.’ Rosie turned to Matt with a wide smile. ‘Simple.’

  ‘Thanks, Rosie. I owe you. I admit I had a bit of a dip in my usual effervescent self-confidence – it won’t happen again. To show you how grateful I am, I’ll rustle up the coffee because I totally understand your reluctance to enter the war zone that is the Ultimate Adventures kitchen.’

  Rosie listened to Matt crashing and banging around in the tiny kitchen as he prepared their drinks. She cringed when she thought of having to pretend to enjoy his offering without actually taking a sip. Unless Matt and Freddie had had a complete personality transplant since the last time she was there, she didn’t want to imagine what state the mugs would be in. She was about to start the counting exercises her sister Georgina had taught her for whenever she felt overwhelmed by her hygiene monsters, but just then she saw Phil’s battered old Volvo drive past the window.