‘Harry, I have to get back to the sanctuary,’ Connor said, standing up, putting his hand on Harriet’s shoulder and kissing her.
Gemma noticed the smile creep into Harriet’s face, making her look so much prettier than she did when she was scowling.
‘I’ll be down later. Leave anything you need me to do in the office.’
‘Gemma, you should think yourself lucky that you were interviewed by Pippa. When Harry had to hire an admin officer for the sanctuary she practically reduced every candidate to tears. All they have to do is make coffee and file and yet she acted as if she were hiring the next CEO of a multinational,’ Freddie quipped.
‘I am just thorough,’ Harriet snapped, then smiled. ‘But I did hire the only person who didn’t burst into tears.’
Gemma didn’t know why she was speechless but she couldn’t find her voice.
‘There’s part of me who will always think I’m a woman on a trading floor having to show a bunch of sexist men who’s boss,’ Harriet continued. ‘So I will apologise for that ahead of time.’
‘Well, the hotel business is definitely competitive,’ Gemma said, finally able to speak.
‘We might get on just fine then, because I’m nothing if not competitive,’ Harriet said, putting her hand out, palm flat towards Gemma.
Gemma ducked as if she were about to be hit, and Harriet rolled her eyes. Freddie laughed and even Gus looked amused. Gemma chastised herself – of course Harriet wasn’t going to strike her. What was wrong with her?
‘I was going for a high five, but never mind,’ Harriet said, shaking her head.
‘Gemma, tomorrow I’ll give you a tour of the land – I’ve got a buggy,’ Freddie offered.
‘And he’s not afraid to use it,’ Gus quipped.
‘I hope you’re not too fainthearted,’ was Harriet’s parting shot.
Gemma was pretty fainthearted, but she had a feeling that she needed to change, and fast, to fit in here.
Chapter 4
A beeping interrupted her dreams and as she woke, Gemma wondered briefly where she was. She fully opened her eyes, feeling momentarily content as she looked around marvelling at her surroundings. She stretched and felt as if her whole body had been rested. It was definitely the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in, and there was no denying that the bedding was of the highest quality, nicer than that of the last hotel she worked in. She had learnt all about thread counts and Egyptian cotton bedding, and her guess was that this was pretty damn expensive. Meadowbrook was pure luxury already, so to turn it into a lovely boutique hotel didn’t seem like much of a stretch. Although she had a long, long road ahead of her.
Last night she had eaten dinner with Pippa and Freddie in the kitchen. The others all had plans, but Gwen had prepared a meal – apparently she normally did – which they warmed up in the Aga. Gemma, having been too nervous to eat much in the days leading up to her arrival at Meadowbrook, devoured every delicious mouthful. Freddie had chatted about his ideas for a specialist cocktail bar as he kept the wine flowing.
Gemma had sipped the expensive-tasting wine cautiously.
‘Don’t you like wine?’ Freddie asked, refilling his and Pippa’s glasses but noting hers was still almost full.
‘Yes, but I’m just not much of a drinker,’ Gemma replied, taking a sip.
Freddie gaped at her in horror. Thankfully, Pippa had saved her by gushing about how much of a success the hotel was going to be now she was on board. The upside was that they didn’t expect much from her; the downside was that filtering all the information being thrown at her was quite exhausting.
After they’d eaten, Gemma had pleaded exhaustion and had headed off to bed early. There she washed, changed into her pyjamas, set her alarm and then settled down with her text books, reading as much as she could before she must have fallen asleep.
There was so much going on, and she needed to process it, but she was feeling very overwhelmed. She told herself it was only day one, and she had, if she survived her probation, six months to get plans for Meadowbrook together, so there was no need to panic just yet. But Gemma was good at panicking.
She sat up in bed and wondered what they would need to do to the room she was in. It was pretty perfect. Expensive wallpaper on some walls, Farrow & Ball paint on the others, along with furniture of the highest quality. There was a pale pink chaise longue and a pale grey velvet armchair, a dressing table with a stool that matched the chaise and a walk-in wardrobe, bigger than Gemma had ever seen. It looked shamefully understocked with Gemma’s clothes.
The en suite bathroom was also ridiculously luxurious, putting the beige suite in her nan’s house to shame. When Gemma thought about her daily routine there – the shower above the small bath that trickled rather than gushed and was never quite the right temperature – she couldn’t compare it. This was a million miles from what she was used to. The huge bath was brass coloured and was almost big enough for a family of four. The shower had its own compartment with a glass wall along one side and the largest showerhead she’d ever seen. The basin and loo matched the bath; basically, the whole room looked as if it had stepped out of an interiors magazine – which she was pretty sure it had.
Gemma thought, briefly, how she wished people could see her now. Sat up in the huge bed, about to start the job of a lifetime. Firstly her nan, who would be so proud to see her doing so well. Then those who hadn’t been quite so supportive. There was a long list, but at the top would be her ex-boyfriend, Chris, who had done his best to destroy what little self-esteem she had before dumping her when her nan took priority over his needs. And then her ex-boss, Clarissa, who took the tiny bit of self-esteem that she had escaped Chris with and tried to stamp all over that. They had nearly succeeded, but not quite, because she was here. She couldn’t believe it. Boring, ordinary Gemma Matthews was at Meadowbrook Manor.
She told herself off for getting carried away. She wasn’t here to gloat and of course, she needed to be vigilant; she had a huge task ahead of her. Being the sort of person who rarely got noticed throughout her life, Gemma noticed everything. That was one of her best skills, and she was sure that the key to the Meadowbrook Hotel was to find out what the house and the Singer siblings were really like, to unearth their personalities, to understand both the house and them fully. The hotel business was competitive and to stand out from the crowd wasn’t going to be easy. But she believed the answers lay somewhere within Meadowbrook’s walls.
Reluctantly getting out of bed, she opted for a quick shower – which didn’t disappoint – before dressing. Her heart sunk as she realised that she really hadn’t thought that latter part of it through. Not just because her clothes didn’t in any way reflect the glamorous surroundings, but also because next to the stylish Singer sisters, she felt dowdy. She had brought work suits – all grey, navy and brown – and very few casual clothes. And compared to Pippa and Harriet in their expensive jeans and soft cashmere jumpers, her clothes were cheap and outdated. Looking at the few bits she’d brought, she realised she’d stand out, for the wrong reasons. God, even Gwen was more fashionable than she was. She tried to breathe and told herself that she wasn’t going to cry or fall apart over her clothes. She would explain to Pippa that she hadn’t been sure what to bring and she would ask advice. After all, she could always go shopping at the weekend, although she would have to watch what she spent.
Previously, Gemma hadn’t the time, the money nor the energy to worry about what she looked like outside work. She had never been much of a girly girl. She didn’t make friends easily and the few friends she had tended to be as uninterested in fashion as she was. At her last job the women she worked with had all been bitchy and seemed to look down on her, mainly because of Clarissa, who had taken an instant dislike to Gemma and ensured everyone who wanted to keep their jobs followed suit. Pushing her dark thoughts away again, she turned her attention to getting ready.
She opted for a pair of dark blue jeans and a red jumper, which had seen better
days but weren’t too bad, she supposed. But she still didn’t look like the Gemma she was trying to be and therefore she didn’t feel like her. Confident, capable and attractive, that was who she needed to be. That was who she wanted to be, and she would strive to get there. She needed to take pride in herself, not just for shallow reasons, but also it was time she began to believe what her nan had been trying to tell her all her life – that she was good enough.
Feeling like a visitor – which of course she was – she tentatively made her way downstairs, taking her time, drinking in her surroundings. She studied each piece of art, wondering what the origins were. She took her phone out and took photos – they would inspire her when she was working in her room, hopefully. She made her way to the kitchen, to find Pippa already there looking both groomed and beautiful. She was making a pot of coffee and munching a piece of toast at the same time.
‘Good morning, Gemma. I was going to bring you a drink, but then I realised I don’t know if you prefer tea or coffee, or how you take it,’ Pippa said, smiling warmly in greeting.
‘Coffee please, just white please, no sugar.’
Gemma went to stand by the Aga, enjoying the warmth. She watched how Pippa glided about the kitchen, making everything look effortless. Gemma sighed inwardly – would she ever be able do that? She took a seat at the kitchen table and when Pippa handed her her coffee, she decided to try to claw back some control.
‘Tell me about how the house runs at the moment,’ she asked, pulling out her notebook. She was going to ensure she had it on her at all times. No detail was too small to miss.
‘Of course, Gwen took care of everything really; we’ve only just convinced her into semi-retirement. She used to live here. I’ll show you her apartment; it’s at the back of the house. But because only Freddie and I are here, she moved back into her cottage. Between you and me, she’s got a sort of boyfriend, Gerry, and I think she wants her own space for their relationship.’
‘So who takes care of the house now?’ Gemma couldn’t see Freddie with a pair of Marigolds, that was for sure.
‘We have a cleaning company that comes in twice a week. Gwen manages them – we daren’t mess with her when it comes to this house! We also have a local girl, Vicky, who comes up three times a week. She does a few bits, laundry and ironing. She also works for Harry and she cooks from time to time. The idea is that she will take on a bigger housekeeping role when the hotel opens. She’s quite keen to do more cooking as well, and so we are sort of training her up, or Gwen is anyway. None of us can really cook – we were terribly spoilt by Gwen. We still are.’
‘So the place is well looked after?’ Gemma asked, making a note and adding Vicky’s name to the back of the book with all the people she needed to remember.
‘To be honest, at the moment Meadowbrook runs itself. I try to help tidy and clean sometimes, but it does take a lot to run the estate – Daddy taught us that. For example, Freddie and I organise the Meadowbrook events, which isn’t profit-making but we hold them to raise money for the sanctuary, and we involve the whole community. Parker’s Hollow is incredibly important to us, and with regards to the hotel we will have to keep that in mind.’
‘Fair enough.’ Gemma wondered just what the community was like – she hoped they wouldn’t be against the hotel, but that was a worry for later. ‘I can’t wait to see the famous sanctuary.’ Although she had heard a lot about the sanctuary, she hadn’t quite got her head round it.
The Singers’ father had set it up with Connor, because he was passionate about animals and wanted to make sure they were cared for. It started small but had grown and was quite well known nowadays, which Pippa explained was a double-edged sword. People came if they wanted to adopt a dog or a cat, but they also knew if they left animals here they’d be looked after. So it seemed when one was re-homed more would appear. They also had farm animals that were permanent residents and two alpacas. How this fitted in with a luxury hotel, Gemma had no idea.
‘Well, of course it’s at the heart of Meadowbrook now, and we have to raise money to keep it going, so that takes a lot of organisation. Our next big event will be the Easter party, so you can see how that works. But we also open our gardens every month, and we get coach trips booking to visit, even in winter. Anyone from the village can come in for free, but for outsiders we charge.’
Gemma was scribbling furiously. ‘I did some research and saw the gardens were an attraction,’ Gemma said. Although again, a luxury hotel break being interrupted by coachloads of people coming to admire the gardens; well that was another conundrum for her.
‘Our roses won a big award at a national show last year and it’s all gone berserk. It’s Gus’s baby, along with his partner, Amanda, now, so I’ll let him tell you about them but yes, they are a growing attraction, and they generate a nice amount of income for the sanctuary.’
‘So when the hotel is open you still intend on having all these events?’ Gemma’s brain was beginning to tick over.
‘Well of course, the hotel will be a separate company and hopefully make money – or Harry will have my head – but we’ll still need to raise money for the sanctuary. And well, that’s as far as I’ve got really. I did think about us using here as a wedding venue too.’
‘Pippa, if people want to stay somewhere quiet they might not want a coach full of people to appear suddenly, or to be part of the events.’ She saw Pippa’s beautiful face drop and immediately felt guilty. Why when she was only pointing something sensible out, she didn’t know, but Pippa did look crestfallen. ‘But that’s OK, I will keep that in mind when I’m coming up with ideas.’
Gemma was even more unsure how it all would work, but she kept telling herself that it was early days and she didn’t need all the answers right now. As long as she got them at some point …
‘Oh! Thank goodness. I knew you were the right person. It’s just, well, Meadowbrook is Meadowbrook and you’ll soon see that, so the hotel has to reflect that. We have to keep our father’s vision alive with whatever we do, you see. But of course you already understand that.’
‘I do?’ She did?
‘The covering letter you sent in with your CV, about the soul of Meadowbrook.’ Pippa tilted her head.
‘Of course, Pippa, of course,’ she reassured her. After all, that she did understand. The animal sanctuary, annual events and coachload of gardening enthusiasts she wasn’t quite as sure about.
‘Freddie, are you sure I’m not going to die?’ Gemma’s voice was carried into the wind, and if he heard her, Freddie didn’t answer.
Gemma was holding on to the side of the buggy for dear life and trying to decide whether or not it was less scary with her eyes shut. On reflection, it was slightly less nauseating with them open. She snuck a glance at him – he was driving very intently and too fast across a bumpy field, up towards the lake. However, she couldn’t help but think, again, that he was the best-looking man she had ever been this close to, or met. Even if he was also the worst driver.
Her ex-boyfriend, Chris, was nothing to rave about, although to be fair, neither was she. He was a couple of inches taller than Gemma who was five foot five, he had mousy brown hair, eyes that her nan always said were a bit too small and unremarkable features. She knew her nan didn’t think much of him – in her pre-dementia days – but it was only now she could see that it was because he was constantly putting her down. At the time, she felt they were perfectly matched – two people who would pretty much go unnoticed through life. But Chris still thought he was too good for her, and he never tired of reminding her, until he left her, as most people in her life seemed to do.
Gemma’s nan always told her that feeling sorry for yourself was unattractive and Gemma tried, tried really hard, to remember that, but sometimes she failed. It was as if she couldn’t shake the expectation that everyone would leave her. And now, in many ways her nan had too, although she also knew that that wasn’t her choice.
So, the new Gemma was trying even harder. Althoug
h she didn’t have Pippa’s ethereal beauty, or Harriet’s striking looks, she wasn’t unattractive. Since her makeover she was beginning to think she wasn’t too bad at all. But a lifetime of feeling unremarkable wasn’t just going to go away overnight. It was more inside than out. She was still a work-in-progress, especially at Meadowbrook where she was surrounded by beautiful, confident people, who reflected the house perfectly. Perhaps some of that would rub off on her if she were lucky. Or if she survived this buggy ride.
‘You probably won’t die. But at least you’ll feel alive when we reach our destination in one piece,’ he finally replied, screeching to a halt. ‘Voilà, the lake.’
They both climbed out of the buggy, and although her legs were still a bit jelly-like, she surveyed the horizon. It was a cold, crisp day, and the light bouncing off the lake reflected that. It was so peaceful, the winter sun shimmering on the surface as the water lay flat, and apart from the odd birdcall, it was blissfully silent.
‘Do people fish?’ she asked, finally.
‘No, we swam in it as kids though, and I think Harriet still does sometimes. Not me – I prefer the indoor heated pool. There are public footpaths through the land, so we do get walkers, which is fine. Why, do you fish?’ Freddie grinned.
‘No.’ Gemma wondered why he made her feel so awkward. ‘I was just asking – you know, for the hotel.’ She went closer to the lake, stumbling as she caught her foot on a large unseen stone.
‘Bloody hell, don’t fall in,’ Freddie said, moving to help her as she righted herself. ‘It’ll be freezing. No, I wouldn’t think we’d want to attract men in waders and suchlike anyway. No, my vision for the hotel is more Bright Young Things.’
‘You want to attract bright young people?’
He turned to her, his lips curling up. ‘No, well yes, but I mean like the film. Glamorous young people, having good old-fashioned fun and drinking cocktails made by moi – you know, I’ve done a cocktail-making course. Via the Internet, but still, they sent me a certificate.’
Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor Page 3
