The Windmill Café: Christmas Trees
‘I relished every moment of this story … definitely not one to be missed’ Emma, Shaz’s Book BlogAs Rosie Barnes takes her latest batch of warm St Clement’s mince pies from the oven, even December’s wintery weather can’t dampen her spirits. With friends Grace and Josh getting married on Christmas Eve, and her beloved Windmill Café hosting its inaugural Christmas Tree Carousel competition the night before, there’s so much to look forward to.But when Theo, one of the stag party, has a nasty accident during a bike race through the woods, the mood turns chilly. With someone potentially targeting wedding guests, Grace begs Rosie to team up again with outward bound instructor Matt, to try and solve the mystery and save her wedding.With Rosie’s tree competition and Grace’s marriage at stake, they need to act fast. Can they find the culprit before Willerby’s winter wonderland turns into a festive fiasco?
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HarperImpulse
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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2018
Copyright © Poppy Blake 2018
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 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 authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © March 2018 ISBN: 9780008285142
Version: 2018-09-20
Table of Contents
To my lovely family who make Christmas special every year
Rosie trotted down the spiral staircase from her studio above the Windmill Café with a song in her heart and a spring in her step. When she reached the bottom step, the smile melted from her lips and the clutter demons began to circle, causing the muscles in her stomach to contract and a familiar light-headedness threaten to overwhelm her.
âOh my God, Mia! Whatâs going on?â
âHi, Rosie. I thought Iâd make a start on choosing the design for our entry into the Christmas Tree Carousel competition on Saturday. Which theme do you think we should go for? Gastronomic Gorgeousness with these cute knitted cupcakes? Or what about Windmill Wonderfulness with these little wooden windmill-shaped decorations?â
âNeither! Weâre hosting the contest â not taking part!â
âThe two are not mutually exclusive! Weâre not involved in the judging, thatâs the Revâs unenviable task, so why shouldnât we be allowed to join in the fun?â Mia held up a cherubic ornament that had seen better days, a smile stretching her lips. âDonât you think this angel is simply adorable? Hey, we could go with a celestial theme â you know, fluffy white clouds made of cotton wool and glitter, home-made silver stars, papier-mâché moons, a few planets and these sweet little angels?â
âMiaââ
âWhat? You prefer something along the lines of my first suggestions? A creative culinary masterpiece? Actually, I do love those miniature silver whisks and spatulas you sourced for the Christmas crackers, and we could use the dollâs house kitchenware Grace found in the vicarageâs attic instead of baubles.â
Rosie heaved a sigh at her friendâs bubbling enthusiasm. However, there was no way she could stay irritated with Mia for long as she watched her skip from one decrepit cardboard box to the next, dipping her hands into the treasure inside like a toddler taking part in her first Christmas lucky dip. Like her approach to Christmas tree decorating, Mia had a quirky dress sense too â more nineteen sixties flower-power than twenty-first century chic. That dayâs outfit was a pair of white dungarees embroidered with what might have looked to a casual onlooker like silver snowflakes, but were in fact bunches of cutlery.
Rosie allowed herself a wry smile â at least Mia had ditched the sausage-bedecked apron that usually forced their customers to perform a double-take just to make sure it wasnât depicting something altogether more risqué. She loved Mia and was grateful for the way she had welcomed her into the community of Willerby with an all-encompassing hug, not to mention introducing her to the group of people she was now lucky enough to call friends. What she struggled with was the chaos that Mia scattered in her fragrant wake; and if there was one thing Rosie didnât cope with very well it was clutter.
The tickle of alarm sheâd experienced when sheâd walked into the café was now threatening to burgeon into full-blown panic. Her heartrate increased even further when her eyes landed on the twisted garlands of lurid pink tinsel, the mounds of multi-coloured paperchains, and the tumble of old-fashioned glass baubles that were piled high on every available surface as well as the floor. Prickles of perspiration swept uncomfortably across her skin. She commenced the counting exercises her sister Georgina had taught her for when such occasions threatened to overwhelm her, but that morning those techniques did not help to wash away the mounting stress. Diversionary tactics were called for.
