Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor

by Faith Bleasdale

  ‘I didn’t know people clapped in church,’ Gemma said as they waited outside, for what she was unsure, but everyone else seemed to congregate there, huddled under umbrellas.

  Gwen and Gerry stood with them.

  ‘Oh, in this church pretty much anything goes,’ Gerry explained. ‘And the ladies, bless them, they do like a bit of praise.’

  ‘John likes to involve as many people as possible. Next week is family service, where it’s more focused on the children, so many of the younger families in the village come,’ Gwen explained.

  ‘I do some puppetry,’ Gerry said proudly.

  ‘The “Amazing Grace” rendition is something I can never un-hear.’ Freddie shuddered.

  It had been, at best, an interesting interpretation, as they all sang different words at different times. The poor organist got totally confused, and it was clear that none of it was planned.

  ‘Oh they enjoyed it though, Fred, which is the main thing.’ Gwen smiled.

  ‘Well, as interesting as that was, I’m not sure I’ll be making it a regular thing,’ Freddie added.

  ‘John will be disappointed – he loves it when any of you guys come,’ Gwen said.

  ‘Why?’ Gemma asked.

  ‘Andrew and I used to go to church every week, and I think John felt as if it validated him somehow having someone from the big house – you know, like in the olden days.’

  ‘Was he a vicar then?’ Freddie asked.

  ‘Of course not.’ Gwen rolled her eyes. ‘But he’s very traditional. He misses your father being there, and I guess he was hoping with four of you that at least one of you would take up the mantle.’

  ‘You should,’ Gemma said suddenly. ‘Maybe do a rota, so that one of you goes every week, and if you don’t want to go alone, then Harriet could take Connor, and Gus, Amanda. But well, if it means that much to the village …’

  Gemma knew by the way that Freddie was staring at her she had overstepped the mark yet again.

  ‘My siblings won’t be happy with that idea,’ he scoffed.

  ‘No, Freddie, Gemma’s right, it will make the village happy. You all go there at Christmas and Easter, so if you could at least all try to put in an appearance a bit more …’

  Gwen sounded like a parent, Gemma thought.

  ‘Think of the goodwill it will create for the hotel. When we apply for licences and permits, you will need a lot of local support,’ Gemma added, quite enjoying herself. ‘The more they feel you are part of them, the less they’ll want to object to anything.’

  ‘Fine, we’ll ask the others tonight, but if I have to go, then you are coming with me,’ Freddie stated.

  ‘If I can I would love to,’ Gemma replied, with a big smile.

  Actually, she meant it. She had found a kind of peace there in the church. Apart from when Edie and co were singing, of course.

  Chapter 13

  It was the day of the presentation – the end of Gemma’s first month at Meadowbrook – and she was draped in exhaustion as she dragged herself out of bed. She hadn’t slept well and when she did, her dreams were filled with anxiety, namely Freddie laughing at all her ideas and Harriet physically throwing her out of Meadowbrook. Thinking about it, she was probably awake at the time.

  It was March and it seemed to have been raining constantly. However, today, as she glanced out of the window she saw it was dry for once, so she decided to go outside for a run, to try to wake herself up, clear her mind and try to calm her nerves. She felt as if she would never be calm again.

  The last week had flown by. Sunday she’d had to go to church again, but this time with Pippa. Gemma didn’t mind, but post-church the day had been difficult. She had gone off to see her nan almost straight after, not stopping to eat anything. By the time she got to the home her stomach was rumbling, but she had to content herself with a couple of custard cream biscuits with her tepid, milky tea. The room seemed to be smaller as Gemma underwent her weekly rituals of changing the flowers. She had also brought some room fragrance, as every time she visited, the room seemed to smell a bit staler. She would have taken a scented candle, but they were banned for obvious fire hazard reasons.

  Her nan herself had looked brighter than she had done in a while. Her eyes shone, and she was animated as she chatted about other people in the home. But she seemed to have no idea who Gemma was, and she kept asking if she was in charge of the bingo. Gemma had wanted to tell her about Meadowbrook, pour out her feelings about the upcoming presentation, the Singers and the fear that threatened to engulf her, but her nan wasn’t in a listening mood. When she left, she missed her nan, the nan she had grown up with. Even more than that, it threatened to eat her alive.

  Gemma had stopped at a service station on the way back. Wiping the tears, she’d picked up a sandwich, which tasted of nothing, but at least took the edge off her hunger. Still she felt heartbroken after leaving her nan; she also felt confused. She felt as if she had two totally different worlds – Meadowbrook and her nan – and she didn’t know how she could reconcile them. If she ever would.

  Pulling herself together, she spent the rest of the week working on the presentation. But despite devoting her every waking hour to it, she still didn’t feel as if she had a firm grip on it all. She was terrified that she was going to lose this dream job. She veered from confidence in her ideas, to insecurity, to a reasonable conclusion that they would feel that progress had been made, to the ultimate one that she felt she hadn’t made enough progress. Thus, they would fire her. She was stuck on a wheel of misfortune.

  She had pages and pages of notes, and yellow Post-its were sticking out from all her text books, but putting it into some kind of logical order, to demonstrate that she was right for the job, was proving more difficult than she hoped. And she also needed to convince herself first.

  She pulled on her “seen better days” gym kit, resolving that if she did get to keep the job, she would treat herself – nothing too expensive, though. She was trying to incentivise herself to take control of the day. She kept trying to come up with motivational phrases, thinking of her nan and what she would have said before the evil dementia set in. If she could do this, if she could pull it off, it would show that she really was as worthy as her nan used to tell her she was. She also knew she would be practically homeless and destitute without the job, which should have been enough of a threat. But more than that, she felt she needed to do it for her nan. She might not always know who Gemma was these days, but even so her nan was the only person who had ever known the real her.

  She ran downstairs and the familiarity of the house startled her. It felt as if she had been here forever, and she constantly had to remind herself that this wasn’t her house, it wasn’t her home. And after today, she might be banished from it forever. She tried not to think about how much she would miss about Meadowbrook, and how she would miss the Singers, especially Pippa – it was too much, and it loomed over her like a nasty thug.

  She set out through the hidden gates in the garden, running past the summer house, where she could see Gus’s paintings inside, following the public footpath, waving to a couple of people walking their dogs. She lost herself in her thoughts; the cold, crisp day was invigorating, although she was beginning to sweat from the run. She also breathed in the fresh air and really did feel that the county had a different effect on her, not quite calming but something akin to it.

  As she ran, she went through the presentation she had prepared in her head, reciting it, committing it to memory. Deep down she felt she had got it right, but then she wasn’t the judge, and Harriet made Simon Cowell look like a sweet old lady.

  ‘Hello.’

  Gemma turned, and Harriet jogged up beside her with Hilda at her heels. Gemma stopped.

  ‘Hi,’ she said unsurely. This was all she needed, when she was trying stop feeling like a basket case.

  ‘Keep jogging, we can talk at the same time,’ Harriet commanded.

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ Gemma mumbled, but she
started jogging again.

  Hilda barked and then settled down, following them.

  ‘I’m glad I ran into you, literally!’ Harriet laughed. ‘Ready for the presentation?’

  She sounded jovial and looked immaculate in her smart running gear, her dark hair pulled back off her face, which was slightly red but devoid of sweat. How did she manage to look this good on a run? Gemma was pretty sure she looked like a scarecrow next to her.

  ‘I will be, but you know, sometimes I think I have more questions than answers,’ Gemma said truthfully. There was no point in false bravado, especially as it felt as if Harriet could see right inside her.

  ‘That makes sense,’ Harriet said, sounding almost kind.

  Gemma tripped over a stone and stumbled but quickly righted herself.

  ‘Oh, OK.’ Gemma was confused. Was Harriet doing this to unnerve her?

  ‘Look, Gemma, I am going to be honest. When you first arrived I was pretty sure you weren’t up to the job, and I am quite a good judge of character.’

  ‘I kind of got that.’

  ‘I felt there was something about you that I couldn’t figure out, as if you were hiding something. But, after initially feeling that way, I want you to do well. You’ve sort of fitted in with the family without me noticing, and the community. I heard Edie talking about you, and she’s a fan. Well, anyway, you’ve ingratiated yourself already which, by the way, is no mean feat, so I really hope you do well today.’

  ‘Really?’ Gemma felt breathless – whether from the run or from Harriet’s presence she had no idea. But she was totally confused.

  ‘Yes, I really do hope you don’t mess it up.’ Harriet jogged off in the opposite direction, with Hilda wagging her tail by her side.

  And as Gemma started walking, slowly, back to Meadowbrook she felt a little better, with Harriet’s good wishes still ringing in her ears but the fear of messing it up very, very real.

  ‘So, in conclusion, I’ve typed up an action plan for the next month.’ Gemma sounded confident; she felt in control. Her conversation with Harriet had given her a little boost, after she’d stopped feeling as if her nerves would eat her alive. ‘My priority,’ she continued, handing a piece of paper to each of them, ‘is to decide who you are going to be aiming the hotel at. Who are your guests? Because we need to start thinking about PR and marketing, and until we know who our market is then we can’t do that.’

  ‘What do you think?’ Gus asked.

  ‘I think Meadowbrook has a unique personality. I think that needs to be reflected in the hotel, but also you don’t have many rooms – I think if we rented them all out there are nine?’

  ‘There are ten, but Freddie and I haven’t decided about our living arrangements yet. One of us will move into Gwen’s rooms, but well, we might need a room here too.’

  ‘Just a point, I think ten rooms would work better,’ Gemma replied. ‘It allows up to twenty guests, and of course some people might come on their own, so you need to maximise available profit,’ she said pointedly to Harriet. ‘Then I think even one room will make a difference, but of course it’s a while before the hotel will open its doors, so that is something for you to discuss.’

  ‘Good point,’ Harriet said. ‘Also, as someone will be on hand in Gwen’s old rooms then perhaps it would be strange to have a family member in one of the rooms.’

  ‘Great, so I’m getting kicked out,’ Freddie moaned. ‘Thanks, Gemma, for making me homeless.’

  ‘Shut up, Fred, nothing is set in stone,’ Gus retorted.

  Gemma was surprised but she was almost enjoying herself, as she firmly felt in her stride. ‘In order to make it worthwhile you need to charge for what people are getting – luxury, which you already have, peace and quiet, but also a creative space. I haven’t quite tallied up the room rates yet, Harriet. I think we’ll do that down the line, but you do need to charge five-star prices.’

  ‘So only wealthy people?’ Freddie asked.

  ‘They don’t have to be wealthy, but you can’t make it too cheap. You won’t make money and you’ll also potentially attract the wrong people. You don’t want the young and rowdy, even if Freddie thinks you do.’ Freddie scowled at her. ‘But in keeping with the house and the village, you want classy, well-behaved people who want a luxury break. Either for romance, or with a best friend, small groups of friends even, and of course we are putting together a corporate package too, but I want that to be separate.’ Gemma almost wondered who was talking – who was this confident woman? She could barely believe it was her; although of course her knees were knocking together under the table; luckily no one noticed.

  ‘But we can offer gardening, baking, painting, or spending time with the animals as well?’ Pippa asked eagerly.

  ‘Well there’s a great marketing angle – take some time out from the rat race, or your usual everyday lives, and enjoy a creative pursuit. We can put together different packages – that’s the beauty of Meadowbrook. I think we need to pitch it as a break in the beautiful Mendip countryside in one of the finest, unspoilt manor houses in England, where you will be pampered, taken care of and given the opportunity to indulge in creative pursuits, if you so choose. Long, beautiful walks, award-winning gardens, to either sit or work in, baking workshops with a master cake-maker, or painting workshops with a talented local artist.’

  She paused, satisfied to see they were hanging on her every word. ‘And if you want to you can visit the local animal sanctuary and meet, play or feed the animals. With wonderful home-cooked, locally sourced food and a creative cocktail bar, indulge, pamper and enjoy yourself in a unique, exclusive boutique hotel.’ Gemma surprised herself with how carried away she was getting. She could see it now – all of a sudden she could see the reality. It would be a hotel, and she was sure it would be a successful one. And she, little Gemma Matthews, was going to be a part of that.

  ‘Wow,’ Pippa said. ‘That’s amazing, Gemma, I can see it now.’

  ‘Actually, me too,’ Freddie said grudgingly. ‘Not bad at all.’

  ‘I think it sounds great,’ Gus added.

  ‘Good job,’ Harriet said simply. Coming from Harriet, this seemed like the highest praise of all.

  ‘Thank you.’ Gemma was experiencing a new sensation – praise heaped on her and not from her nan! It felt good … no, it felt amazing. She was almost floating on the air, she was so, so happy.

  ‘So, as far as I’m concerned, we’re ready to go ahead,’ Harriet said.

  ‘Do you mean I’ve passed the probation?’ Gemma asked.

  ‘Of course you have, as if there was any doubt.’ Pippa launched herself at Gemma, nearly knocking her off her feet with her hug. Harriet nodded.

  ‘Gemma, you need to see our solicitor to get all the legal side of it underway. We would prefer you to use the family solicitors, as they look after Dad’s estate.’

  ‘Of course,’ Gemma agreed. ‘I’ve spoken to Freddie about the licence, and we can talk about any other legalities and permits we need to sort out.’

  Gemma knew they might need permits to change the house into a hotel, but it varied from local authority to local authority. There was much to be done on the practical side, of course. The kitchen would need to be changed to commercial, there were all sorts of health and safety issues, rooms would have to be set up properly for visitors, but at the moment none of them seemed insurmountable.

  ‘Well, you can’t do it single-handedly, and your job was to help us get this place open,’ Pippa said; she was glowing as well. ‘So, now we have the green light, we need to involve other people. Oh, I am so excited, Gemma. You have done such a marvellous job so far, I’m so thrilled.’ Pippa hugged her again.

  Gemma was so happy she even hugged her back, warmly. She forgot herself for a minute and let herself bask in the moment.

  ‘Right, Fred, go and get some champagne. Gus, go with him and get glasses,’ Harriet ordered.

  ‘Yes, boss,’ Fred quipped.

  ‘Bugger off, Fred. We have s
omething to celebrate,’ Harriet snapped, but she had a big grin on her face, and she looked at Gemma and winked.

  Gemma fleetingly wondered if a wink could kill you, but it seemed that Harriet might actually be beginning to like her.

  They all sat in Andrew Singer’s study.

  ‘What do you think Daddy would think of the hotel?’ Pippa asked.

  ‘I think he’d be proud of you, well all of us, but particularly you, Pip,’ Gus replied.

  ‘I agree,’ Harriet added, slinging her arm around her sister’s shoulders.

  ‘Me too, although of course I am involved as well.’ Freddie opened the champagne and poured everyone a glass. ‘I’m full of ideas for the bar,’ he puffed.

  ‘We all are – it’s a family business, and Daddy would love that,’ Pippa pointed out. ‘Imagine how proud he would be to see the four of us working together.’

  ‘God, who would have imagined that when we came back for his funeral, we would all end up working together and as close as we used to be as kids!’ Gus marvelled. ‘When we had tried to live together for a year it was almost as if we were strangers, Gemma.’

  ‘And we definitely had our moments; it wasn’t plain sailing, was it?’ Freddie added.

  ‘But look at us now, we are thick as thieves once again,’ Pippa trilled.

  Gemma was struck, again, at how she was an outsider here, and she couldn’t help but envy them, for the millionth time, for having each other.

  ‘Here’s to the Meadowbrook Hotel.’ Harriet raised her glass and they all clinked glasses.

  ‘To the Meadowbrook Hotel,’ they all echoed.

  And Gemma vowed that she might not be one of them, and she never would be, but she would do all she could to make sure they did open a hotel that all of them, including her, could be proud of.

  Chapter 14

  ‘Wow, you look lovely,’ Gemma said. She was just heading downstairs for dinner, when she bumped into Pippa coming out of her bedroom, dressed in a black trouser suit, full make-up and high heels.