The Windmill Café: Christmas Trees. Poppy Blake

The Windmill Café: Christmas Trees - Poppy  Blake


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face and when she saw the crinkle of amusement in his eyes, heat flooded her cheeks and she relaxed, enjoying the sensation of being in Matt’s company once again, not to mention the fact that there seemed to be no awkwardness in his demeanour. One of the things she loved about being with Matt was his constant urging that she grab her courage by the scruff of its neck and experience things outside her comfort zone. Life wasn’t a dress rehearsal and every ounce of pleasure should be squeezed from each new adventure. That was the mantra Matt’s father had lived by and he’d achieved more than some people would in three lifetimes before the climbing monsters claimed him for their own.

      “Scared?”

      “No way!”

      Rosie shelved her fear, took a deep breath and climbed onto the back of Matt’s quad bike, wrapping her arms around his muscular torso and leaning in close. He smelled of fabric conditioner from his damp cycle gear mingled with his familiar citrusy cologne, and every one of her senses sparkled at his proximity. When he revved the engine, a whip of excitement shot through her body and headed southwards. Her thoughts zoomed to the forthcoming weekend when, had Harry not made his unscheduled appearance, she would be starring in the role of Matt’s Plus One at Grace and Josh’s wedding.

      She and Matt might possess character traits at opposite ends of the organisational spectrum, but their humour-filled tolerance of each other’s foibles had led to what she had secretly hoped would be not only a lasting friendship, but someone more intimate. Her blossoming relationship with Matt – sealed whilst they’d worked together to save each other’s businesses – was responsible for papering over the cracks in her heart caused by Harry’s infidelity and was one of the reasons she had been able to turn down his marriage proposal without hesitation.

      “This way!” shouted Freddie, taking the lead on their search-and-rescue mission.

      In single file, they bobbed along a narrow pathway through the woodland at the rear of the Ultimate Adventures reception lodge. Looking over her shoulder, Rosie thought the building resembled an old wooden steamer moored against the dense forest backdrop; a safe haven amidst an arboreal storm.

      For ten minutes, the quad bikes and cycles bucked and bounced on the uneven ground like a procession of kangaroos on steroids and Rosie had to fight to keep down her breakfast. Nevertheless, her overriding sensation was one of warmth and contentment of once again being so close to Matt and knowing that she was exactly where she wanted to be.

      “You okay?” shouted Matt, turning his head slightly so she could hear his voice above the drone of the engine.

      “I’m fine. More than fine, actually.”

      She lay her cheek against his back, arguing with her internal critic that she was making them more aerodynamic, but accepting that an avalanche of emotions had started to tumble through her veins. This is what being with Matt did to her – something she had never experienced with Harry in all the time they had been together. She knew she had to tell Matt how she felt, and she resolved that once they had found Theo she would find the right moment to do just that.

      They rode on in convoy for another fifty metres or so until the vegetation grew thicker and the shards of wintry daylight struggled to penetrate through to the forest floor. Rosie’s fingers were so cold she contemplated sticking them into Matt’s pockets, but before she could decide whether that was appropriate or not, there was a cry from behind them.

      “There! Over there!” shouted Josh, veering off between two silver birch trees, their trunks adorned with a botanical garland of holly and ivy. His manoeuvre had been so sudden that Grace had to cling onto him for dear life, her legs poking out at right angles in an effort to maintain her balance. Nevertheless, she had a beaming smile on her face and was clearly enjoy the unexpected trip through the forest.

      They came to a halt beside Theo’s cycle, its wheels still rotating in the air like an upended tortoise unable to right itself - but there was no sign of its rider.

      “Where is he?” said Penny, dismounting her bike and squinting into the gloom, her forehead creased in confusion.

      The only sound to punctuate the air was a soft ballad of birdsong rippling through the leaves, and even though the rain had finally ceased, water droplets the size of grapes still pattered down intermittently from the canopy above.

      “He can’t be far,” said Freddie, jumping from his quad bike and scouring the area. “Let’s spread out. If he’s come off his bike at speed he might be injured - he could be unconscious or wandering around disorientated.”

      The group fanned out and began to search the undergrowth, not sure what they expected to find. Rosie felt nauseous, not only from the ride but from a deep sense of foreboding that permeated her whole body. Above her head, a squirrel scampered along the dishevelled, skeletal branches and the repetitive coo of a pair of wood pigeons floated from on high, yet the trees bore down on her like a battalion of malevolent warriors. The woodland atmosphere felt oppressive, tinged with the odour of wet soil and crushed pine needles. Her damp fringe tickled at her lashes, and she brushed it away only for it to fall back into place as she tipped her head downwards to scan the thick carpet of vegetation beneath her feet for any clue that Theo had passed that way.

      “Where do you think—” began Rosie, but her question was interrupted by a piercing shriek reverberating through the air. “Was that Penny?”

      The hackles on the back of her neck rose in alarm as she met Matt’s eyes briefly before he sprinted to where Penny was standing in a small clearing surrounded by a brigade of holly bushes. Rosie stumbled in his wake, sending up a swift request to the guardian angel of cyclists that Theo had been found with nothing more than a twisted ankle or sprained wrist. She just couldn’t take any more traumatic incidents.

      When Rosie reached Matt’s side, the shock hit her like a sledgehammer to the solar plexus. She gasped for breath, drawing her forearms into her abdomen, but she couldn’t prevent the dry retch from escaping her throat. Beside her, Mia was experiencing an identical reaction. She was barely aware of Matt and Freddie rushing to Theo’s side to check for a pulse.

      “Oh my God, is he okay?” whimpered Penny, kneeling down next to Theo, her hands pressed to her mouth, her body trembling uncontrollably as she stared transfixed at the blood oozing from a deep gash across his shoulder and upper arm. “Matt, Freddie, tell me he’s okay?”

      Matt removed his jacket and pressed it against Theo’s wound whilst Freddie checked his airways.

      “Is he—?”

      “He’s unconscious. Must have hit a branch and come off his bike. Rosie, can you hold this here whilst I call for an ambulance?”

      Rosie heard Matt’s words but her reflexes had temporarily disconnected from her modem and she found that she was frozen to the spot. With tremendous effort she managed to drag herself back to reality and knelt down next to Matt to maintain the pressure on Theo’s wound whilst he removed his mobile phone to call for help.

      “We heard a scream, what’s going…. oh, my God, is that Theo?” cried Grace, grabbing hold of Josh’s hand as she stared at the harrowing scene unfolding before her. “What happened?”

      “Fell off his bike,” mumbled Penny, her voice an octave higher than usual, her face drained of every last vestige of colour. “Matt says he must have been hit by a branch or something.”

      But Rosie caught Matt’s eye as he finished giving directions to the first responders. Like him, she had seen the laceration on Theo’s upper body up close – and it was a perfectly horizontal gash, almost as if he’d been cut with a cheese wire.

       Chapter 3

      Rosie stared out of the window at the pretty kissing gate at the bottom of the vicarage’s garden. She marvelled at how festive the bright red holly berries looked, dancing a jig in the stiff December breeze when such cruelty played amongst them. It was no accident that she and Mia had


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