The Windmill Café: Christmas Trees. Poppy Blake
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 in 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.”
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