by Poppy Blake
Chapter 5
Every time Rosie drove through the gates guarding the entrance to the Windmill Café, she experienced a pleasant twinge of homecoming. Christmas had truly arrived, mainly courtesy of Mia, with an exuberant medley of festive decorations. Hand-crafted wreaths hung proudly on the front of every lodge door and plain white fairy-lights twinkled around the windows and on the peppermint sails of the windmill. She had even been persuaded to drape necklaces of holly-sprigged bunting that Mia and her mother had created around the wooden veranda. However, she’d put her foot down at the suggestion they invest in a menagerie of inflatable snowmen to welcome the competitors to the Christmas Carousel contest.
Dusk was in the process of exhaling its last gasp, sending ribbons of indigo and amber across the sky along with a rather menacing cloud of chirping skylarks, their destination controlled by a higher force. An icy dampness hung in the air, and whilst the earlier rain had long-since ceased, clouds hung like bulbous balloons evidencing only a temporary reprieve. Maybe Grace and Mia would get their wish for a winter wonderland at the weekend, after all.
To her right, in the field at the rear of the windmill, crouched the borrowed marquee, its fabric sides flapping in the breeze like a pair of bellows. Her heart gave a sharp nip of gratitude when she saw one of the Ultimate Adventures SUVs parked in front of the entrance and Freddie and Josh helping to unload a consignment of Christmas trees whilst Archie attached each trunk to a huge circular wooden turntable, just like an over-sized Lazy Susan, inside the tent. Once again, Rosie was reminded what being part of a tightly knit community was all about. Every good deed was returned two-fold, and she vowed never to forget that.
Matt’s SUV crunched to a halt in the gravelled car park and Rosie drew up alongside him, dragging on the handbrake of her Mini Cooper and scampering in his wake as he made his way to the French doors leading into the café. From the look of determination on his face, he had clearly downloaded his Amateur Detective app already.
She unlocked the doors and stepped inside, flicking on the light and taking a moment to inhale a deep, replenishing lungful of air that contained her favourite aroma – a symphony of disinfectant, freshly baked scones and a light top-note of bleach.
Heaven!
The nervousness that had been brewing about being alone with Matt for the first time since he’d witnessed Harry go down on one knee and propose to her seeped away. She set the kettle to boil, grabbed a selection of the Windmill Café’s signature mugs and a plate of the mince pies she had baked the previous day, and turned to face him.
“Matt, I—”
“Rosie, I—”
“Hi? Is it okay to come in? I could murder one of your gingerbread lattes, Rosie. Sam’s gone over to the marquee to see if the guys need any help with organising the Christmas trees and, well, I know it sounds stupid but I didn’t want to stay in the lodge by myself. Abbi’s not in her little shepherd’s hut, and Penny isn’t back from the hospital yet so when I saw the lights go on in here I thought I pop in for a chat. I hope I’m not interrupting anything? Oh, are these home-made mince pies?”
“Help yourself, Zara,” said Rosie, turning on the coffee machine and catching the smirk on Matt’s lips. The fates seem to be enjoying sending distractions their way – maybe it was too early to have the necessary heart-to-heart. “Why don’t you and Matt grab a seat on the sofa over there and I’ll bring the coffee across when it’s ready?”
“Thanks, Rosie. You’re a lifesaver.”
Zara wriggled out of her bright orange padded jacket and tossed her matching satchel, which Rosie recognised as one of Abbi’s designs, onto the overstuffed white settee next to the French doors which in summer months were concertinaed back so that visitors could enjoy a meal on the veranda.
Rosie took the opportunity to survey Josh’s best man’s wife from her vantage point behind the kitchen counter. Her dark brown curls looked slightly more dishevelled than usual and there were smudges of exhaustion beneath her eyes. Rosie supposed that tiredness went with territory of being a mum to twin boys! Her makeup had been perfectly applied though – a triple coat of mascara, a slick of apricot lipstick and there was a delicious aroma of rich oriental perfume fighting for supremacy with the ground coffee.
However, as Rosie deposited the tray of drinks on the coffee table, she could see Zara’s copper-coloured nail polish was chipped and the skin around her nails had been so avidly scratched that blood had been drawn. Her heart performed a flip-flop of sympathy. She knew this was the first time Sam and Zara had managed a weekend away as a couple since their children had burst onto the scene and they should really be relaxing in the spa, enjoying each other’s company over a glass of wine instead of waiting for the police to arrive to interview them.
“Mmm, thanks Rosie, this coffee smells amazing.”
Zara gave Rosie a weak smile as she lifted her mug to her lips and took a sip, but it didn’t reach her hazel eyes, and before she lowered her drink, a necklace of tears had gathered along her lower lashes.
“Are you okay?” asked Rosie.
“Not really. After what’s happened to Theo, all I want to do is go home to see my boys.” Zara’s lower lip trembled as she fought to reign in her emotions. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, they love spending time with my parents on their farm. Barnie adores helping my dad with the sheep, and my mum’s teaching Oscar how to bake bread. It’s just, well, what if the person who did this to Theo is still out there, in the woods, watching us, waiting for their chance to—Oh, God! I can’t bear the thought of my children being orphans!”
“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” said Matt soothingly.
“Does that mean you think Theo was targeted?”
“I do. And by someone who knew him well.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Theo was the only one of us who took the short-cut through the woodland. If he’d stuck to the path like everyone else, none of this would have happened. The person responsible has to have known that Theo is super-competitive and would have taken the opportunity to pre-plan his route to give himself the best chance of winning.”
“Well, that gives the police an extensive pool of suspects. Everyone who’s ever met Theo knows what he’s like; always boasting about his last great adventure, or how many trophies he’s got in his specially built cabinet, or his impressive handicap at golf, not to mention his amazing achievement of scoring five hole-in-ones. Oh my God! You think it’s one of us, don’t you? One of the wedding guests?”
Zara’s eyes widened as she stared at Matt with incredulity. She returned her coffee mug to the table and dragged the edges of her dark russet cardigan around her chest as if protecting herself from Matt’s suspicions. She folded her arms around her abdomen and drew her feet underneath her bottom. Rosie sat forward in her seat and levelled her eyes with Zara’s.
“Zara, everyone is upset about what’s happened. Grace is threatening to cancel her wedding, so Matt and I have promised to try to find out who did this to Theo so she and Josh can relax and enjoy their special day without all this unpleasantness hanging over the day. But we need your help.”
“My help? Why?”
“Well, we thought we’d ask everyone who knows Theo to tell us a bit about him, just so we can get a picture of who might have wanted to do something like this. Is it okay if we ask you a few questions? Grace told us that you and Sam know Theo the best.”
Zara flicked her eyes from Rosie to Matt and back again, her fingernail-scratching going into overdrive. After a few seconds, her shoulders dropped and she collected her mug from the table, hugged it into her chest and said “Go ahead. I want to find out who did this too, for Grace’s sake.”
Rosie wondered why she hadn’t said ‘for Theo’s sake’, but decided to let it pass.
“So, how did you meet Theo?” asked Matt, getting straight to the point and earning himself a glare from Rosie.
“Through Sam. They’re both members of a local cycling club i
n Shrewsbury where we live, and they played golf occasionally. Sam stopped going to the club after the twins were born, and he only uses his cycle to get to work now – he’s a golf pro at our local club – so he and Theo haven’t spent as much time together recently and that suits me fine. You might think I’m awful saying this, but Theo Morris is not at the top of my list of favourite people.”
“So why ask him to be godfather to your children?” enquired Matt, innocently.
“I don’t have an answer to that conundrum. It was the first time Sam and I had ever argued. I’ve never really gelled with Theo. I find him brusque, condescending and more than a little arrogant. Whenever we meet up he insists that everyone does whatever he has planned, usually organised down to the minutest detail, and woe betide anyone who strays from the itinerary! Once we all went on a trip to Alton Towers – it was supposed to be a fun-packed weekend to celebrate Sam’s birthday. When we got there, Theo handed out a schedule and ordered us to follow it to the letter so we could squeeze the most out of the day.”
Zara’s eyes had taken on a glazed look, and she had no idea that Rosie and Matt were hanging on her every word and filing each nugget of information away for later dissection. Rosie wanted to ask questions, to hurry her through to the more relevant parts, but she knew it was best to let Zara tell her own story.
“Every single ride was itemised and given a time slot. He’d even factored in one permitted toilet break – three minutes! Ridiculous! You should have seen the notes he had gathered in an arch lever file. It was a weekend away with friends, for heaven’s sake, not an arduous orienteering exercise organised for one of his TA jaunts. I really don’t understand how the men put up with him, or why. So, yes, it was a huge shock when Sam said he wanted Theo to be Barnie and Oscar’s godfather. In the end we compromised and had two godfathers, my brother Jack being the other. Just as well, Theo’s never showed any interest in the twins – not that I’m complaining.”
“Could you be underestimating the strength of the bond Sam and Theo have formed as obsessive cycling enthusiasts?” asked Rosie, getting up to replenish their coffee mugs and to fetch a plate of mini chocolate yule logs which she sprinkled with a generous dose of icing sugar.
“Perhaps,” muttered Zara, who had moved on to fiddle with the pearl studs at her ears.
“What does Theo do for a living?” asked Matt, keen to push the conversation on.
“He runs a vintage car hire business; it’s mainly weddings, but he also hires them out to TV and film companies and advertising agencies.”
Rosie was surprised to notice a flicker of disgust streak across Zara’s expression and her instincts buzzed with curiosity.
“And?” she pressed. “Is there something else?”
“His accident has nothing to do with me, but I won’t lie and tell you that I’m upset about what happened to him. Theo was a conman and a thief!”
Zara blurted out the last sentence with such uncharacteristic venom that Rosie found herself staring at her in amazement. Tiny splashes of red had appeared on Zara’s cheeks, but she held Rosie’s gaze with determination.
“That’s a strong accusation,” said Matt, calmly.
“Well, you would probably say the same if Theo had stolen your grandfather’s vintage Rolls Royce.”
“Maybe you should tell us exactly what happened,” said Rosie, offering Zara a sympathetic smile as well as a tissue to dab away the tears that were now rolling down her cheeks.
It was a few seconds before Zara garnered the courage to continue, but when she did the whole story came out in a rush, complete with vigorous hand gestures.
“My grandfather’s mental health became progressively worse last winter, but it was still a huge shock when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Okay, so he would never have been able to get behind a wheel again, I get that, but that car was his pride and joy! He bought it in 1959 for £500 and it took him ages to pay off the hire purchase. He was a member of his local vintage car club for over forty years and went to all their meetings until he became too ill to go. His friends still came to visit him at his nursing home, though, and in his lucid moments it was all he wanted to talk about. He adored that car. He drove my grandmother to their honeymoon in the south of France in it over fifty-five years ago, my mum used it for her wedding, so did Jack, and so did I when I married Sam. That car was almost like another member of our family, for God’s sake.”
Zara’s tears dried and her jawline hardened as her indignation surfaced. She pushed herself upright on the sofa, squared her shoulders and met Rosie’s gaze head on.
“Theo’d had his eye on Grandad’s car for ages. He’d even asked if he could buy it from him several times, but we always told him where to go.”
“So what happened? Are you saying he stole the vehicle?” asked Matt.
“No, not exactly.”
“What then?”
“Theo conned my grandfather into signing the registration documents over to him. He visited him at the care home without our knowledge, whilst the boys and I were away in Ireland with Sam for the grand opening of one of the golf courses he’d helped to design. It was a couple of months until we found out what had happened and by then the log book had been registered in Theo’s name.”
“Why didn’t you report it to the police?”
“Oh, Theo’s not stupid, you know. As usual, he planned the whole thing with meticulous care. He even recorded his conversation with Gramps to prove he had agreed to the sale. He also gave him some cash which was paid directly into his bank account – not the full market value, but not so little that it would look suspicious. He pointed out that Gramps had been more than happy to sell the car to him, that he’d paid a fair price for it and that was that. I know for a fact my grandfather would never, ever have parted with that car before he died. Never! He wanted our boys to use it at their weddings!”
Tears appeared along her lashes again but Zara swept them away.
“But what upset me the most was the way Sam reacted.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, he was furious to begin with, called Theo all the names under the sun and then some, just like I did. He stormed straight over to his house to have it out with him, to demand that he transferred the documents back into my grandfather’s name. Theo refused of course, and I think there was a bit of a scuffle – Sam came back with a cut lip. But the very next week Gramps passed away, and, what with the funeral and everything, we didn’t have chance to do anything for a few weeks. Sam arranged to meet up with Theo again and when he got back this time he refused to tell me what had been said and told me to drop it.”
“Drop it?”
“Yes, he said that Gramps was at peace and we should move on. I asked Sam what had happened between the two of them but all he would say is that he didn’t want to jeopardise his friendship with Theo – that he’d paid a fair price and we should leave it at that. I didn’t speak to him for a week! I was livid. That car was part of our family’s history and Sam was giving it up without a whimper of objection. I was disgusted with him, but he was adamant.”
Zara flicked her curls behind her ears and Rosie was shocked to see that her insistent fiddling with her ear stud had caused a globule of blood to appear.
“My family is the most important thing in the world to me – more important that a squabble over the car. But I’ve refused to have anything to do with Theo Morris ever since. I only agreed to come to Norfolk for the stag party because I love Grace and Josh and I’m so excited about their wedding, but I’ve given Theo a wide berth since we arrived.”
Silence descended on the cosy café and darkness pressed against the French doors turning them into blackened mirrors. Rosie took a few moments to assimilate what Zara had told them and to explore her feelings about what Theo had done.
“So you’re not surprised that Theo scouted out a short-cut so he could win the cycle race?”
“Absolutely not! Having a race was his idea in the first place, ins
tead of a fun cycle ride through the picturesque Norfolk countryside, which I know for a fact Dylan would have preferred after his injury problems. It was also Theo’s idea to buy a trophy and have it engraved – another one for his over-flowing cabinet! Winning means everything to him – he wouldn’t know ‘fair play’ if it danced the Samba naked in front of him. You know who’s going to win the Christmas Carousel competition, don’t you?”
“Sorry to ask you this, Zara, but would you mind if I asked you where you were between eight o’clock last night and ten thirty this morning?”
Surprise stalked across Zara’s face. She clearly hadn’t been expecting such a direct question.
“Well, after having dinner with our friends at our lodge, Sam and I enjoyed the facilities. It’s the first time we’ve been away as a couple since the twins were born. We were treating the break as a mini-honeymoon actually.”
“And what time did Sam leave your lodge to meet everyone at the Drunken Duck car park for the cycle ride this morning?”
“It was around six thirty, I think. Yes, because I glanced at the clock when he kissed me goodbye. I went back to sleep for a couple of hours, took a shower and then joined Abbi and Penny for breakfast at about ten o’clock before driving over to Ultimate Adventures to meet up with Mia and Grace where, as you know Rosie, we waited in the freezing cold for the winner to race through the finishing line. Of course, we all knew it would be Theo and that the others wouldn’t stand a chance. Only this time it wasn’t.”
“So there’s no one who can vouch for your whereabouts between six thirty and ten?”
“No, I suppose I—” Zara met Matt’s eyes with surprise. “Oh my God, surely you don’t think I pulled on my running gear and hot-footed it over to the woods to stretch that wire between the trees, do you?”
“No, of course that’s not what Matt’s suggesting, but we need to ask everyone the same question.”
“And you have just told us that Theo was, in your view, a despicable person; a thief who has conned your family out of a precious heirloom.”
