The Wedding Cake Tree by Melanie Hudson Read Free Book Online

stuffed it back into my bag under the seat in front of me.
    At that moment the pilot powered up the engines and the aircraft began to roar down the runway. Too late to back out now.
     
    When the steward began the drinks service, Alasdair delved into his rucksack and handed me another letter from Mum. I expected a couple of pages of prose, but she had written very little:
     
    Grace.
    Time to start living life, not watching it.
    Mum
    xxx
     
     
    I looked up from the note – bemused and a little annoyed. ‘What exactly has Mum got planned Alasdair? Should I be worried?’
    A wry smile emerged across Alasdair’s face. ‘Worried? Never. Excited? Yes.’
    I lowered my head to look down on the British landscape below. ‘Excited about spending some time out in Britain? I’m yet to be convinced.’
     
    A young man holding the keys to a shiny Range Rover waited for us outside the airport terminal. It was Alasdair’s turn to have his name splashed across a billboard and I realised I hadn’t even asked his surname. It was Finn.
    After about half an hour w e turned down the slip road that led onto the A1. I relaxed a little.
    ‘ Is that where Mum’s from then, the Dales?’ It was odd to be asking a stranger details about my own mother’s life.
    ‘ Yes.’ He offered no more information.
    ‘ Oh, sorry, I forgot. You must follow your orders and keep me in suspense.’ Alasdair took his eyes off the road to flash me a reassuring smile.
    ‘ As I said to you in the café, Rosamund gave me limited information. What I can tell you is tonight we’re staying at the Wensleydale Heifer – your mum’s choice – and then in the morning I’ll take you to your first port of call; it’s somewhere nearby. I would imagine the next letter will explain all she wants you to know.’
    ‘ And when do I get the letter?’
    ‘ At the first port of call.’
    ‘ And how do you know where this first port – as you refer t o it – i s ?’
    ‘ Because I wrote Rosamund’s instructions down in a notebook.’
    I fell silent to give him a break from the questions – for a few seconds at least.
    ‘ You must admit that this is more than a little bizarre though,’ I said, more to myself than to Alasdair, while gazing blankly at the passing countryside.
    ‘ What is? What’s bizarre?’
    ‘ Well, you’re a complete stranger to me but I’m asking you questions about my own mother. You seem to know more about her than I do.’
    H e shrugged and smiled.
    ‘ I tell you what,’ I said, ‘I’m going to try my hardest to just follow you around, ask nothing, and then wait for you to shepherd me to some place significant.’
    ‘ Really?’ he asked, stealing a glance.
    I turned to scrutinise him as he was driving. Paul’s comment that Alasdair could turn out to be a dodgy character crossed my mind. I smiled inwardly.
    ‘ The thing is,’ I said, trying to keep the smile out of my voice, ‘I keep telling myself to enjoy the trip, but then I start to panic. I mean, a strange man is driving me about in the middle of the frozen north.’ I gestured towards the landscape and he laughed again. ‘You could be an axe murderer or anything. But, my mother seems to think this is a perfectly reasonable thing to do, so who am I to do anything but just go with the flow.’ I gestured with my arm in a casual flowing motion.
    ‘ Typical, that is.’ He flashed me a scolding glare.
    ‘ What?’
    ‘ How come I – the man – am automatically tarnished with being the murderer? For all I know, this could all be a weird set up between you and your mum. You could be intending to drug me, chop me up into bits and feed me to the pigs.’
    ‘ Well, firstly,’ I retorted with an unfeminine snort, ‘as if . And secondly, pigs?’
    ‘ Best way to dispense of a body apparently. They eat the lot.’
    He was clearly an expert .
    ‘ And how in God’s name do you know that little snippet?’
    ‘ Saw it in a film.’
    ‘ Oh, it must be true then.’
    ‘