The Windmill Café. Poppy Blake

      ‘Oh, Rosie, wild camping is lots of fun! Actually, Freddie and I were talking about trying it out in Willerby Woods next weekend. We’ll be foraging for all our food and water and sleeping under the stars. Why don’t you come along?’

      ‘Gosh, I’ll take a raincheck on that if you don’t mind!’ she laughed as Matt and Freddie joined them.

      ‘Rosie, do you mind if I make myself a coffee? Freddie couldn’t find any ice and I don’t think I could stomach another bottle of warm beer. Want one?’

      Before Rosie could offer to do it herself, Matt had marched into the café kitchen and flicked the switch on the kettle. He spooned freshly-ground coffee into a cafetière with the careless abandon of a three-year-old in a sand pit, sending a generous scattering of the granules across the marble benchtop. Where only moments before soothing orderliness had reigned supreme, there was now a plethora of culinary chaos. Rosie’s desperation to create order that always lurked just beneath the surface reared its ugly head and her fingertips tingled with the effort it took not to rush over to the sink and grab a cloth to start wiping away the mess. She chanced a quick glance at Matt, and saw him raise his eyebrows in amused enquiry.

      ‘You okay?’

      ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ she improvised. ‘Just tired. I hadn’t realized how exhausting it would be to manage the Windmill Café as well as the holiday site, but I’m enjoying every minute of it.’

      ‘So, too busy to come over for a flight on the zip wire, eh?’ Matt’s eyes crinkled with mischief, nudging her flagging spirits northwards. Every time she met up with Matt at the Drunken Duck, he and Freddie had tried to encourage her to spend the day with them at the outward-bound centre and she admired their persistence with a lost cause.

      ‘I’d rather stick my hand in a meat grinder,’ she laughed, trying her hardest not to let her eyes drift back to the spilled coffee.

      ‘Not a lover of heights, then?’

      Matt was right, indoor pursuits had always been more her thing, like flower arranging and baking up a storm. But, now she was settling into her new life in the country, far away from the city life and urban sprawl she had left behind in London, there was no reason why she shouldn’t introduce a few changes, and start enjoying a more rural lifestyle. Wasn’t life all about trying new things? Should she give the zip wire a go? A shiver of trepidation shot down her spine just thinking about it. Maybe she could begin with something a little closer to the ground.

      ‘What else do you have at Ultimate Adventures apart from the zip wire?’

      ‘Lots of things. We’ve got the climbing wall, there’s the quad bike safaris, you could try paintballing, field archery, hover-carting, wild camping, and there’s my personal favourite – the woodland obstacle course – although that’s best enjoyed after we’ve had some rain. Which one floats your boat then?’

      Rosie gulped. Each one sounded worse than the last, and the thought of having to choose between them caused her head to spin. What on earth was hover-carting? There was only one way to find out and with all-action-hero Matt at her side whilst she gave them a go, she suspected she’d be able to conquer all of those things – except the zip wire.

      She sat up straight and pushed her shoulders back, met Matt’s gaze and said ‘I think I might give the archery a go.’

      ‘That’s great, Rosie.’ Matt grinned broadly, his whole face lighting up with pleasure at recruiting a potential convert. ‘A fitting choice. Has anyone ever told you that you bear more than a striking resemblance to that Disney character in Brave? Same unruly hair, same scattering of freckles across the bridge of your nose, same determined tilt of the chin.’

      Rosie knew exactly who Matt was referring to. She had often been told she resembled Merida, but only because of her hair, not for possessing a penchant for using a bow and arrow when things got tough – although she had often craved a soupçon of the character’s courage to get her through the difficult times.

      ‘Yes, quite a few actually.’

      ‘Okay, then it’s decided, field archery, it is. I’ll sort it out for one night next week after we close so that we can have the course to ourselves. Don’t look so terrified. I know you’re going to love it!’

      She smiled at Matt’s evident delight that she had agreed to ditch her doubts and launch herself into something new. Whenever she was in his company she felt more alive, more willing to take chances, to step outside her narrow comfort zone and into the excitement of the unknown. She wondered how he did it. Harry had certainly never made her feel like that, quite the opposite in fact.

      ‘I think “love it” might be going a bit far.’

      ‘Why do you say that? How do you know until you’ve tried?’ Matt’s voice had softened as he scoured her eyes for a clue as to why she was so scared of trying something different.

      Rosie felt her cheeks glow under his scrutiny. How could she explain to the super-confident Matt, that two long years with Harry constantly belittling everything she did had taken its toll and her self-esteem had crashed to an all-time low?

      ‘Come on let’s take our coffees outside onto the terrace and enjoy the last of the sunshine.’

       Chapter 4

      ‘Hi, mind if we join you on the terrace?’ asked Suki, a couple of bottles of prosecco poking out from beneath each arm.

      ‘Of course not.’

      Rosie smiled as her holiday lodge guests made their way to the adjacent table. Suki and Jess were giggling and teasing Lucas about his lilac jumper, a replica of the one Jamie Oliver wore on the cover of his current cookery book. Nadia, her auburn bob slightly dishevelled, was encouraging William to open another bottle of prosecco rosé from the crate of twelve they had brought with them. There was still no sign of Suki’s errant boyfriend and Rosie wondered what had happened to make him so late.

      ‘Looks like they’ve been drinking all afternoon,’ whispered Matt.

      Mia rolled her eyes, but Freddie decided to take advantage of the situation.

      ‘Hey, Suki, congratulations on scoring a recording contract. I’m really looking forward to hearing you sing tonight! It’ll be a real treat,’ said Freddie, tipping his head back to drink from his bottle of beer, trying to appear nonchalant – but his cheeks were flushed and he was clearly in awe of Suki and her glamorous friends.

      ‘Thanks, I’m stoked, but it’s no overnight success story, you know. I’ve worked my guts out for this. Since graduating from music school in Sheffield, I’ve sang in some of the most decrepit and flea-ridden bars and social clubs in the country. That’s where I met Nadia and William – oh, at uni, not the flea-ridden bars! Nadia’s been my best friend ever since, haven’t you, Nad?’

      ‘Certainly have,’ nodded Nadia, tucking her hair behind her ears. But Rosie detected a faint cloud of petulance pass over the woman’s polished features, before she tossed back the contents of her glass and held it to out to Lucas for a refill. ‘Ergh, it’s far too warm.’

      ‘Why don’t I put a couple of bottles in the freezer for you?’ asked Rosie.

      ‘Great idea. Thanks, Rosie,’ smiled Suki.

      Rosie returned with two silver ice buckets, one for each table. But before she had the chance to plunge the remaining bottles of prosecco into the floating ice cubes, a blast of laughter exploded into the air. Lucas had stumbled backwards against the table, dislodging one of the buckets and drenching Nadia with freezing cold water containing bullets of ice.

      ‘Stupid idiot, Lucas! Look what you’ve done! You’ve completely ruined my dress!’ she screamed, holding the soaking fabric away from her chest in an effort to prevent the icy water seeping onto her skin.