Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor

by Faith Bleasdale

  She rubbed her eyes, Was she still dreaming?

  ‘Wh-what?’ she mumbled, her brows furrowed.

  ‘Oh, don’t think you can get away with it. Remember, I’ve seen your CV. I know that today, the sixth of April, is your thirty-first birthday, and we’re going to spoil you.’

  Gemma’s eyes almost popped out of her head. How had this happened? How had she … As the colour threatened to drain from her face, she blinked and then composed herself. It was a stupid mistake, a really stupid bloody mistake, but one she would have to live with.

  Pippa led Gemma over to the kitchen table, which was laid out with a pot of coffee, croissants and condiments, and Freddie was already sat there, although he looked as if he were still half-asleep. His hair was tousled and Gemma had a strong urge to touch it … Oh God, where had that come from? She pinched herself, and it hurt. Damn, she definitely wasn’t dreaming.

  ‘Happy birthday, Gemma,’ he said, smiling impishly. ‘Sit down.’

  Gemma did as she was told, still in a state of shock.

  ‘Right, well, coffee first then breakfast.’ Pippa clapped her hands together. ‘And I know today is a work day, but I’m taking you to Bath to a spa for a well-deserved pampering. That’s my gift to you.’

  ‘Wow.’ Gemma was lost for words.

  ‘That sounds like a treat for you as well, Pip,’ Freddie pointed out.

  ‘Well, Gem can’t go on her own. And tonight we’re having a big family meal, everyone’s coming, Harry, Con, Gwen, well she’s cooking too, Gerry, Gus, Amanda, even the teenagers. It’s going to be a proper celebration for you, for all the hard work you’ve done so far and because well, because I think we’ve become such great friends and you’re a big part of Meadowbrook.’

  Gemma’s eyes darted towards Freddie, who was pouring milk into his coffee. She literally had no idea what to say as emotion welled up inside her.

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘Oh for goodness’ sake, say something else.’ Freddie looked up. ‘How does it feel to be properly in your thirties now?’

  ‘It feels exactly the same.’ She wasn’t even actually thirty yet. ‘But, you know, I haven’t had a fuss made on my birthday for a while, so I’m sorry but I’m just a bit overwhelmed.’

  She tried to keep her emotions in check. Her nan always used to make a big deal of her birthday, but for the last three years she had forgotten, nor did Gemma remind her. This was the first birthday she’d had for years. And it wasn’t even her birthday.

  ‘Oh you poor thing.’ Pippa put her arms around Gemma and gave her a hug. ‘I know, with your nan’s situation, we really wanted to spoil you.’

  ‘Well I’m touched. Thank you.’ Gemma tried to steady her hand as she took a sip of coffee. She thought about what must have happened, and she wanted to kick herself for her mistake, but she tried to stay calm – no, not calm but excited. She needed to be excited. ‘And as for dinner, that sounds so perfect, I just, well, it was just so unexpected. I didn’t really think about celebrating my birthday at all. In fact, I all but forgot about it,’ she trilled.

  ‘Oh but we must celebrate,’ Pippa said. ‘I love birthdays.’

  ‘Absolutely and, Gemma, tonight I am going to serve my new, improved Meadowbrook cocktail in your honour,’ Freddie announced with a flourish.

  Pippa giggled. She was so giddy, it was like it were her birthday. In the midst of her idiocy, Gemma had a slight brainwave.

  ‘What I would love is if Edward could join us for dinner.’

  ‘Edward?’ Freddie looked up from his croissant.

  ‘Yes, you’ve been seeing him for a few weeks now, so you should make sure he comes. I’d love to meet him properly.’

  ‘So would I,’ Freddie added.

  ‘Oh I don’t know, I mean the whole family …’ Pippa looked mildly horrified.

  ‘Thanks, Pip, we’re not monsters and Gemma’s right: bring him tonight, best get us all over with in one dinner than drag it out.’

  ‘Oh go on, I’m dying to meet him properly,’ Gemma pushed. ‘It would make my birthday,’ she said.

  ‘He might be busy,’ Pippa said.

  ‘Well tell him to be un-busy,’ Freddie said, and Gemma was grateful for his support, especially as he didn’t know Harriet had put her up to it.

  Gemma was overjoyed suddenly – she was going to get Edward Farquhar served up to Harriet on a silver plate. It was turning out to be the best birthday ever.

  Even if it actually wasn’t her birthday.

  The spa was more fun than relaxing, because Pippa didn’t stop talking. Gemma stretched her legs out and enjoyed the feel of the fluffy bathrobe and slippers she’d been given. This was what friends did, have girly time together, and she had never, ever done this before. It was wonderful. After all, she’d never had a friendship like this before.

  Edward had agreed to dinner and all through the massage, which they had on tables that were side by side, Pippa gushed about Edward; he was wonderful and good-looking and he was teaching her about running a hotel. Gemma made all the right noises, but she was almost drifting off, so she didn’t catch it all.

  ‘Before we go home, I’m taking you to my hairdresser for a wash and blow-dry,’ Pippa said.

  ‘But I’ve been totally spoilt already.’ Gemma was incredulous. This was all so, so much. She had never done this before in her life, been pampered like this, and she felt as if she were walking on air. She hugged Pippa impulsively, something she was doing increasingly.

  ‘And you deserve it.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Gemma replied, feeling emotional.

  No one apart from her nan made her feel like this. Damn remaining professional and focusing only on the job – how could she when she had people like this around her?

  Gemma felt like a million, trillion pounds. She couldn’t stop looking at herself in the mirror. Who was this woman? Her hair framed her face, which was changed by the application of make-up that Pippa had also booked her for. Keri, the girl doing her make-up, made it look so easy and she talked her through every step, so Gemma thought she might be able to do something similar – if not quite as good – herself. Growing up, she had always been slightly dismissive of the girls she knew who troweled on make-up and were obsessed with clothes, but mainly because they all seemed to dislike her. But what she was learning was that putting more time into her appearance was increasing her confidence. If she had known the power of a good haircut, some make-up and nice clothes, she might have done it years ago. She might have avoided being bullied.

  Perhaps that was one downside of growing up with her nan – not that she would ever criticise her. Her nan was old-fashioned, and she tended to dress Gemma in a way that didn’t really fit in with everyone else. She made a lot of her clothes – which did lead to bullying – and even her school uniform was always slightly too big for her, but then money was tight and it needed to last. God, growing up was hard, but then now she was an adult and it was time she took responsibility for choosing how she looked rather than trying to fade into the background. Meadowbrook wouldn’t countenance that. After all, she had started making an effort in her last job at the hotel after Clarissa told her she expected her to look her best to reflect the hotel, although she was never quite good enough. Now, it was time to step it up.

  She pulled on her only black dress; she’d bought it in a sale. It fell a little above her knees and hugged her figure without being too tight. She teamed it with black tights and a pair of high-heeled black shoes that Pippa, who thankfully had the same-sized feet as her, lent her. She twirled around, stumbled and realised she best not run before she could – literally – walk as she made her way downstairs.

  Pippa and Freddie were waiting in the drawing room when Gemma, walking carefully, joined them.

  ‘I’ve made a jug of cocktails,’ Freddie said. ‘But Pip seems to think we should wait for the others.’

  ‘Of course we should; anyway, they’ll be here any minute.’

  ‘God, you look differ
ent.’ Freddie did a double take. ‘What have you done to yourself?’ he asked. Confusion flashed in his eyes.

  ‘I had my hair and make-up done,’ Gemma stammered. She felt warm inside at his noticing her.

  ‘Well you look lovely,’ Freddie said.

  Gemma nearly fell over, from shock rather than clumsiness – it was the first compliment he’d paid her.

  ‘Doesn’t she just. Gorgeous,’ Pippa gushed, giving Gemma a squeeze. ‘You know I always thought you were really pretty, but you didn’t seem to think so. Hopefully now you can see what we see.’

  Pippa really was the most generous person she had ever met.

  ‘Thanks to you, Pippa,’ Gemma said. She didn’t know how she would ever thank her for such a wonderful day. Work, that was how, working at this hotel and helping Pippa realise her dreams – that was how she would thank her.

  There was a lot of activity from outside as Harriet, Connor, Gus, Amanda, Fleur and Hayley burst in.

  ‘Happy birthday!’ Harriet said, thrusting a present at Gemma.

  ‘Oh! And we got you something too,’ Gus said, handing her another package.

  ‘Oh yes, I almost forgot.’ Freddie handed over a small gift too.

  ‘Well open them,’ Fleur commanded.

  ‘Of course,’ Gemma said carefully, shocked and touched. ‘Where’s Gwen and Gerry?’ she asked as Freddie started pouring cocktails.

  ‘Oh, Mum’s been in the kitchen for hours and Gerry’s helping her,’ Connor explained. ‘Don’t wait for them, honestly,’ he added, eyes twinkling.

  Gemma opened her presents and felt her eyes fill with tears. Harriet and Connor had given her a beautiful blue sweater, and she immediately loved it. It was so soft, possibly the nicest item of clothing she’d ever had.

  ‘I thought the colour would suit you,’ Harriet explained. ‘What with your colouring, your eyes.’

  Gemma was surprised. ‘It’s gorgeous, thank you,’ she said genuinely.

  Gus had painted a small watercolour of Meadowbrook Manor and had it framed.

  ‘Oh! That’s so beautiful, amazing, thanks.’ Gemma wasn’t going to be able to contain her tears for much longer as her eyes filled.

  ‘Dad always gives the best gifts because he’s such a great painter,’ Fleur said proudly.

  Gus glanced at her as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.

  ‘Open mine,’ Freddie said. ‘It’s nothing exciting but I got it in Bristol the other day.’

  There was a small box and inside was a silver “G” on a chain. Gemma was taken aback.

  ‘It’s gorgeous. I love it!’ She pulled it out and put it on. ‘Wow, I don’t know how to thank you,’ she said. She had never, in her whole life, received such wonderful gifts.

  ‘Right, drinks.’ Freddie started handing them out.

  Gemma’s eyes sparkled as she took a glass with happiness as well as tears.

  ‘Uncle Fred, can we have one?’ Fleur asked.

  ‘No,’ Gus said.

  ‘Oh Dad, I’m fourteen.’ Fleur pouted.

  Gus looked angry but Amanda put a hand on his arm.

  ‘If you guys have non-alcoholic cocktails now we’ll let you have half a glass of champagne later,’ Amanda said.

  ‘Oh yes, that would be better,’ Fleur said.

  ‘I love champagne,’ Hayley, who was a year younger than Fleur, said as if she drank it all the time.

  Amanda shook her head, grinning.

  ‘Of course, you know drinking responsibly is important, girls, so if you are going to drink I’d rather it was when you were with us,’ Gus said, sounding like the father he was.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, Dad, it’s not like I go down the park with a bottle of meths,’ Fleur said. ‘Who do you think I am? Uncle Fred?’

  No one could help themselves as they all burst out laughing.

  When the doorbell rang to announce Edward’s arrival, Gwen and Gerry had joined them in the living room. They’d given Gemma a huge bouquet of flowers, nothing like the ones from the service station that Chris used to give her for her birthday, and Gwen said she would put them in a vase after dinner so she could enjoy them in her bedroom.

  As Pippa led Edward into the drawing room, Gemma did her best to regain her composure and focus. But she couldn’t stop fingering the necklace, feeling warm and fuzzy. This must be what it felt like to be part of a family, to have more than one person who cared about her, to have people actually think about her. She wished, more than anything, she could tell her nan about this. She wished, more than anything, that her nan could be here to celebrate with her.

  ‘Everyone, this is Edward,’ Pippa said.

  Edward smiled broadly as he greeted everyone.

  ‘Lovely to see you again, and happy birthday,’ he said to Gemma charmingly.

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied politely.

  Perhaps Harriet was being paranoid. Edward sounded sincere and genuinely pleased to meet them all.

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ Freddie said, handing him a cocktail. ‘Gosh, Pip, he looks like a blonde version of Mark.’

  Fleur burst out laughing, but was then silenced with a small shove from her father.

  ‘Who’s Mark?’ Edward asked, a smile still plastered to his face.

  ‘Her ex-husband,’ Fleur said before anyone could stop her.

  The silence filled the room.

  ‘Shall we go through to the dining room? Dinner is just about ready.’ Gwen, as usual, saved the day.

  Pippa organised the seating arrangements, and Gemma was mortified to find herself sitting next to Freddie with Connor the other side. Harriet was next to him and along with Edward, made up one side of the table. Fleur and Hayley were tucked away at one end, and Gwen at the other with Pippa, Gus, Amanda and Gerry on the other side of the table. The table was dressed beautifully: crystal glasses for every type of wine and water, heavy silver cutlery, a decanter of expensive red wine and two antique candelabras.

  ‘So I’m guessing that if this is going to be your main dining room, when you open the hotel, you’ll have smaller tables in the here?’ Edward asked, surveying the room. ‘My guess is you could get at least ten tables in here.’

  ‘No—’ Pippa started.

  ‘Yes,’ Gemma interrupted. ‘Although the details haven’t been finalised.’

  Harriet nodded approvingly at her, but Pippa gave her a questioning glance.

  ‘You know I really would be happy to help you with anything,’ he said.

  ‘Isn’t that great?’ Pippa said.

  ‘It certainly is,’ Harriet replied. ‘And I’m sure that Gemma would appreciate hearing any of your thoughts, and we all bow down to your expertise, of course.’

  ‘I’d be happy to help, but I can already see that Meadowbrook is special,’ Edward stated, sounding humble.

  ‘The Darnley is lovely too.’ Gemma smiled sweetly.

  ‘Can we change the subject? It’s Gemma’s birthday, so let’s not talk hotels. Although, I bet you don’t have a signature cocktail as good as mine,’ Freddie boasted.

  ‘Or any alpacas. Do you have alpacas?’ Connor added with a chuckle.

  ‘Or an in-house master painter and master baker.’ Gemma was enjoying herself.

  ‘Or a gay cow,’ Fleur threw in.

  ‘Don’t forget the gardening club, I bet you don’t have a gardening club,’ Gwen added.

  ‘I’m not sure I understand.’ Edward still had a smile on his face but was bemused, as anyone listening to them would be.

  Gemma marvelled at how quickly she had got used to the Meadowbrook ways. Not that long ago she was permanently wearing the same puzzled expression that Edward currently wore.

  ‘Oh stop teasing him,’ Pippa snapped. ‘For God’s sake.’

  Freddie went round the table refilling everyone’s wine.

  ‘Here’s to Gemma, happy birthday.’ Gus led the toast.

  ‘And to Gwen, thank you for cooking such a lovely meal,’ Harriet added.

  ‘To Edwa
rd, thank you for joining us,’ Pippa gushed.

  ‘And to all of you, for making this the best birthday I’ve ever had,’ Gemma said, and she let the tears fill her eyes and genuine emotion fill her voice as she clinked glasses with them all.

  Chapter 18

  Gemma couldn’t believe it when she looked at the clock on her bedside table. It was gone eleven, and she hadn’t slept this late since she was ill with the flu a few years ago. She groaned. For someone who didn’t drink, who didn’t get hangovers, she was becoming almost used to them. But then it had been her fake birthday, after all. Dinner had gone well – after the initial awkwardness Edward had been the perfect guest. He had been attentive to Pippa, asking polite, non-hotel questions, he’d complimented the cooking, the house, and Gemma thought that at least Harriet’s mind would be put at rest now. After dinner he had cried off, saying that he needed to be at work early the following morning, and Pippa, after a long, lingering farewell, had come back to join them.

  Gwen and Gerry retired home after clearing up, but Freddie was on a mission to get everyone drunk. Fleur and Hayley sneaked off to the snug. Later it was found they had smuggled half a bottle of champagne, not enough to do any damage, but Gus hadn’t been pleased. Fleur called her dad “a boring old fart”, and in the end they had left under a bit of a cloud. Freddie seemed to find it funny, and Pippa said it reminded her of when they were teenagers.

  They regaled Gemma with stories from their past, how Harriet and Connor had been caught sneaking alcohol to the summer house, and how the others tried to join in but were sent away. How Freddie tried making vodka at school once, which nearly exploded, and their father’d had to make a hefty donation to prevent him from being expelled. How Pippa, who did nothing wrong ever, once had a date with a boy who her father didn’t approve of, because he smoked and swore a lot, and was grounded almost for the rest of her life. But she wasn’t, because she managed to twist Andrew Singer around her little finger, unlike anyone else. They talked of their past with such fondness that Gemma couldn’t help but feel little stabs of envy.

  Her teenage years couldn’t have been more different. At school, she tried so hard not to be noticed. She was so average, in all ways, but that didn’t deter the bullies. She didn’t get invited to parties, of course. Her best friend was studious and as boring as she was, they didn’t spend time together outside school, and they were probably only friends as they were both so unpopular. Gemma would never have dreamed of doing anything against the rules; she wasn’t built that way. She didn’t ever engage in sport, as she was hopelessly uncoordinated, and she dreaded gym class. She was also too scared of other girls to join any clubs. She didn’t feel she belonged. Not having parents made her feel different, for as long as she could remember. She never fully fitted in anywhere.