Poppy Blake - The Windmill Café - Autumn Leaves

‘I’m loving the autumnal theme you’ve got going on today, Mia! Black cats and witches’ hats are a perfect choice for our Hallowe’en bake-a-thon,’ she said, referring to her friend’s very loud apron.

‘And what did you think of the pumpkin one I wore yesterday?’

Rosie thought back to the previous day when she had struggled to keep a straight face as Mia – Queen of Quirky Culinary Attire – had produced an apron bedecked with pairs of pumpkins divided by what looked like courgettes, giving the unsuspecting onlooker pause for thought. She had politely declined Mia’s offer to make one for her so they could present a united front, insisting she preferred to stick with the Windmill Café’s signature aprons made from plain peppermint-coloured linen and embroidered with a very tasteful white windmill.

As Rosie performed her final check of the electric plugs and switches, the pirouette of unease that had curled through her veins all day tightened and she knew she couldn’t ignore her mounting apprehension any longer. She needed to just come straight out and say what was on her mind.

‘Do you think there is any way at all we can get out of going wild camping tonight? I’ve still got a long list of things to organize for the Autumn Leaves party, not to mention having to be around in case the remaining guests in the lodges and the shepherd’s hut need me for anything.’

Mia grinned, a glint of mischief appearing in her dark mahogany eyes.

‘You’ll need to come up with a much better excuse than that, Rosie! Matt and Freddie have been looking forward to this expedition for weeks. Anyway, how can you possibly consider giving up the chance to spend a night under the stars with Norfolk’s very own version of Bear Grylls? It’s the perfect opportunity for you to cement your relationship.’

‘Mia, I keep telling you, Matt and I are just friends!’

‘Friends who worked together to save the Windmill Café from certain disaster. If you and Matt hadn’t turned super-sleuth and uncovered who was responsible for poisoning Suki, then we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. Did Matt complain when he came to our aid in our time of need?’

‘No, of course he didn’t, but…’

‘So, now we’re repaying the favour. Matt needs us to go with him and Freddie to balance out the numbers. Only four of our lodge guests have signed up for the Wild Camping and Medieval Myths expedition; that’s all three of the guys, and Brad’s girlfriend Emma is coming too. Without us tagging along, it would mean Emma would be the only woman, so this way it’s a good mix with Matt and Freddie as our extremely hunky guides. Perfect!’

Mia removed her apron, shoved it into her handbag and slotted her arms into her white denim jacket which she had hand-embroidered with a garland of custard-yellow buttercups. More hippie than yuppie, Mia had definitely been born in the wrong era, with her love of all things flower-power, from the daisies in her hair to her gem-encrusted sandshoes.

Rosie adored her best friend and partner in culinary creation. She was well aware that the only reason she had been able to progress from forlorn florist to contented café manager was down to the eternally optimistic support of Mia Williams. It had been weeks since she had tortured herself with the memory of discovering her ex-boyfriend Harry rolling around amongst the chrysanthemums in their little flower shop in Pimlico with one of their bride-to-be clients. Her new home in the white-washed windmill with the peppermint green sails had turned out to be the perfect place to put her life back on track. She had moved on.

In fact – and she didn’t intend to admit this to Mia any time soon – she had even started to toy with the possibility of dating again. Just because she’d had her fingers burnt once didn’t mean she should avoid every encounter with a cosy log-burning fire for the rest of her life, did it?

However, there was still one thing she needed to work on and that was her attachment to her good old friend and enemy – bleach. No matter how hard she tried to contain her ever-present urge to clean, she just couldn’t relax until she was satisfied that not a single germ lingered anywhere in the café waiting for its chance to pounce on the gullible. She suspected that her obsession with hygiene required the attention that only a professional therapist could provide – especially after the heightened anxieties her recent brush with a potential food-poisoning scare had caused.

‘Right. I’ll let you go upstairs and get packed and I’ll see you over at Ultimate Adventures at seven o’clock. I know I don’t have to say this to you, Rosie, but I will anyway. Don’t be late! It’s a good hour and a half hike to where Matt and Freddie want us to set up camp for the night. And don’t forget to bring a torch … and maybe a few of those brownies too! Bye-ee.’

Rosie waved Mia off in her cute little cream Fiat 500 then locked the Windmill Café’s French doors behind her. Mia was right. They did have to return the favour for the kindness and support – not to mention the Poirot-esque tenacity – with which Matt had helped her hunt down the person responsible for the poisoning scandal that had almost brought her idyllic Norfolk countryside sojourn to an end. If she had lost her job at the café, then she would also have lost her home.

So, it was thanks to Matt Wilson, the handsome and intrepid owner of Ultimate Adventures, that she was still in Willerby, baking scones, roulades and tartlets for the hungry hordes who were about to attend the inaugural Autumn Leaves party on Saturday night.

Rosie made her way up the spiral staircase that led to her studio flat above the Windmill Café. She had only made a lacklustre start on packing for her night under the stars. More like night mare under the stars, she thought as she groaned out loud. How on earth had she got herself into this? She really wasn’t an outdoorsy kind of a girl, the sort who relished the chance to commune with nature. She was more Countess of Cupcakes than Connoisseur of Camping.

Oh well, all she had to do was tip her hesitation over the parapet and launch herself into the unknown – again!

Rosie parked her car alongside Mia’s Fiat in the gravel car park next to Ultimate Adventures’ reception lodge. Set against a dense arboreal backdrop, and sporting a wide sun-bleached veranda, the outward-bound centre’s office looked more like a wooden ship floating on an emerald ocean. It had taken Matt months to persuade her to participate in one of the various activities on offer there and finally, in order to avoid the very scary looking zip wire ride, she had succumbed to his powers of persuasion and joined him on a field archery shoot, which she had to admit she’d enjoyed. However, she had no doubts whatsoever that the same thing could not be said for the treat he had in store for them that evening.

Twilight was tickling the canopy of trees overhead and the woodland had taken on an eerie feel that sent goose bumps scooting across her forearms. She grabbed her borrowed rucksack from the boot of her car and made her way towards the group of people gathered underneath a pool of amber light next to the store room waiting for instructions.

‘Hey, Rosie, great to see you!’ exclaimed Freddie, stepping forward to greet her with a fist bump before seeking out Matt and handing over a crisp ten-pound note.

Rosie rolled her eyes, but was gratified that the gesture at least meant Matt had retained his faith in her. She had no intention of letting him in on the details of her earlier conversation with Mia, or the fact that she was only there because Graham, the Windmill Café’s owner, had asked Matt to arrange the personalized expedition for the guests currently staying in the luxury lodges on the site next to the café as part of a themed week of activities.