Poppy Blake - The Windmill Café - Autumn Leaves

A division of HarperCollins Publishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Harper Impulse an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by Harper Impulse 2018

Copyright © Poppy Blake 2018

Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2018.

Cover illustrations © Shutterstock.com

Poppy Blake asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © March 2018 ISBN: 9780008285135

Version: 2018-04-20

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page A division of HarperCollins Publishers www.harpercollins.co.uk

Copyright Harper Impulse an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by Harper Impulse 2018 Copyright © Poppy Blake 2018 Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2018. Cover illustrations © Shutterstock.com Poppy Blake asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Ebook Edition © March 2018 ISBN: 9780008285135 Version: 2018-04-20

Dedication To Mum and Dad; I know you would be so proud to see my name on the cover of a novel

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Acknowledgements

Also in This Series

Keep Reading…

About the Author

About HarperImpulse

About the Publisher

To Mum and Dad; I know you would be so proud to see my name on the cover of a novel

Rosie surveyed the Windmill Café whilst she waited for her chocolate and pecan brownies to bake. Even without the burble of her customers’ cheerful chatter, the room still resonated with warmth, comfort and contentment. However, Rosie felt far from contented and comfortable because she knew she needed to broach the thorny subject of that night’s approaching escapades with Mia before she exploded from an overdose of anxiety.

‘So, what do you think of the blackberry and apple roulades?’

‘I think they’re amazing! They’re definitely going on the menu for the Autumn Leaves Hallowe’en party on Saturday,’ declared Mia, cramming a third mini Swiss roll into her mouth and rolling her eyes in confectionery ecstasy before crumbling into a fit of giggles.

‘And the pumpkin and treacle tartlets? Do they make it onto your list?’

‘Absolutely, and the apricot and cranberry brownies, and the gingerbread with lemon icing, and the red velvet cupcakes with the raspberry coulis that looks just like blood! You know, I really wish you’d reconsider my fabulous idea to hide eyeball gobstoppers inside the Boston Scream pie.’

‘Health and safety, Mia. Don’t you think we’ve had enough contact with the food inspectors to last us a lifetime? Okay, so that just leaves us with the punch to finalize.’

Rosie leaned over the huge copper jam pan she had been adding spices to all day. She inhaled a deep breath, savouring the heady fragrance of warm red wine, cinnamon sticks and cloves that sent her taste buds tingling. She gave the dark crimson liquor a stir before sampling it, gasping as the alcohol hit the back of her throat. Maybe if she downed a couple of glasses of the lethal brew she would find the courage to confess her swirling trepidation to Mia.

‘Well, if it tastes as good as it smells, we’re onto a winner,’ said Mia. ‘And we’re definitely having the hot chocolate with marshmallow ghosts and the green slime smoothies for the kids. I take it, then, that you’ve also vetoed my idea to float plastic spiders in the pomegranate cocktails?’

‘Yes! Of course I have!’

Rosie rolled her eyes in mock chastisement, but after what had happened at their Summer Breeze party in August, she was even more nervous than usual about hosting this celebration of all things scary – she didn’t think she could cope with a second drama. It hadn’t been her fault that one of their guests had been poisoned, but she’d still insisted on triple-testing every recipe for their Autumn Leaves party before it was granted a place on the menu, stipulating that only the most delicious, mouth-watering creations would be allowed to feature.

The celebration was also billed as a farewell bash for Mia, her friend and fellow baking fanatic, before she embarked on her foray into the field of outdoor sports. She was going to train as a zip wire instructor at the outward-bound centre, Ultimate Adventures, over the winter season when the café was only open at the weekends. Rosie knew she would miss Mia’s daily dose of chirpy banter, but she consoled herself with the fact that Mia was following one of her dreams. And anyway, they would still be able to meet up in the local pub, the Drunken Duck, whenever they wanted to partake in that trio of female solace; cocktails, cake and gossip.

She slid the last batch of cupcakes onto a wire rack to cool and plunged the baking sheet into a sink of hot soapy water, relishing the loud sizzle. She scrubbed the tray clean, dried it, and returned it to its allocated place in the drawer below the oven, before reaching for the antibacterial spray to wipe down the marble countertops one last time.

Rosie saw Mia smirk and shake her head in exasperation but choose to say nothing, and her heart ballooned with gratitude. Her friend understood the reasons behind her constant battle with the cleanliness demons, and the way she was unable to relax until every surface of her beloved café was spotless and sparkled under the overhead lights. She returned the spray to her box of deodorizing goodies, shoved her copper curls behind her ears where they burgeoned like inflated candy floss, and untied her apron strings, watching in amusement as Mia did the same.