Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor

by Faith Bleasdale

She heard their voices before she saw them.

  ‘Bloody hell, how are you meant to find anything in this place?’ Freddie said.

  ‘Shush, Fred, there are ill people here,’ she heard Pippa reply.

  ‘I’m ill, my hangover is a killer.’

  ‘Really, really inappropriate.’

  Both heads appeared.

  ‘Oh, Gemma, I’m so sorry.’ Pippa rushed to hug her.

  Freddie shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

  ‘You didn’t need to come,’ Gemma said, but her tears were now flowing intently, so it came out like hiccups.

  ‘Nonsense, I wasn’t having you alone here and as you had my car, Fred offered to drive. He wanted to check you were all right as well.’

  ‘Yes, how is your nan?’ he asked, running his hands through his hair and looking slightly horrified at the scene in front of him.

  ‘She’s going to be OK, they think. Well, you know, as OK as she can be with dementia and having just had a stroke,’ Gemma said more calmly. ‘But it’s just, well, we don’t know much yet, and she could have another stroke any minute.’

  ‘Right, have you eaten?’ Pippa asked.

  Gemma shook her head.

  ‘Fred, go and get some coffees and some sandwiches.’

  ‘Great.’ Freddie sounded relieved.

  ‘I’m staying right here with you,’ Pippa said and took Gemma’s hand.

  ‘No one, apart from my nan, has ever done anything like this for me,’ Gemma said, touched to her core.

  ‘Well that’s just wrong, no one should go through this alone. Freddie, go – and remember, I hate egg mayonnaise,’ Pippa said.

  ‘Right, see you in a minute.’ Freddie scurried off.

  ‘I’m not sure that you’re supposed to be here,’ a nurse, with the name badge “Helen”, said as she came into the room to check the charts.

  ‘I’m her granddaughter,’ Gemma said, terrified she would be asked to leave.

  ‘Of course, I meant the other two.’

  ‘I’m her best friend,’ Pippa said loyally.

  ‘And I’m, well, I’m her best friend’s brother.’ Freddie grinned.

  ‘It is meant to be family only, you know; visiting hours haven’t started yet.’

  ‘But surely you would be so kind as to make an exception in this case?’ Freddie asked, looking at Helen through his long eyelashes. ‘It’s just that Gemma really shouldn’t be alone at such a traumatic time.’

  ‘Yes, of course, I’ll let you carry on.’ She seemed mesmerised by Freddie, as she turned and walked out of the room backwards, banging into the sink next to the door.

  As she hurried out, red-faced, Pippa laughed.

  ‘Poor Helen, she’s probably mortified now,’ she said.

  ‘I can’t help it if I have that effect on women,’ Freddie said. ‘Right, ladies, as we’re in for the long haul, do you want to do a crossword, a word search or to play cards?’

  ‘What on earth?’ Pippa asked.

  ‘Well it was the only entertainment the hospital shop offered, but I thought it might help pass the time.’

  They opted for a crossword, and Gemma was glad of the distraction. She realised that sitting, fretting on her own, was so painful, and even though they weren’t much good at the crossword, she felt so much better having company.

  The afternoon passed into evening. Nurses came and went, all flirting with Freddie, who seemed to be an excuse for the whole female nursing staff to come into the room; they even offered them refreshments – albeit weak tea and biscuits. Her nan was definitely getting the best care.

  A different doctor came in, shooing the nurses out impatiently, along with Freddie and Pippa, before explaining that her nan was stable now, and although the long-term effects weren’t apparent yet, she was out of immediate danger. They were monitoring her closely, and he advised that Gemma go home, have a good night’s sleep and then return the following day.

  ‘If Freddie drives his car, I’ll take you in the mini,’ Pippa offered when she relayed this to them.

  Gemma nodded. Her nan’s eyelids fluttered and she opened them. Gemma grasped her moment.

  ‘Nan, this is Pippa and Freddie, my colleagues and my friends,’ she said proudly, wishing that she could have met them before she got ill.

  Her nan seemed to take them in, and Gemma could have sworn she saw a smile at her lips as Freddie went to shake her hand, and Pippa kissed her cheek.

  ‘We’ll wait for you outside,’ Pippa said.

  ‘I’m going now, but I’ll be back tomorrow morning, Nan. And I need you to know I love you so, so much,’ she added.

  ‘I love you,’ she thought she heard her nan whisper. She leant in close, as close as she could without squishing her. ‘And I like your young man very much too,’ she whispered, so quietly that, again, Gemma wondered if she’d imagined it.

  Gemma kissed her cheek, tears welling. She wanted to tell her that he wasn’t her “young man”, not her man at all, but that she wished he was, but as she saw the content look on her nan’s face, she knew she wouldn’t. She wasn’t sure she had even spoken at all.

  ‘See you in the morning. Sleep tight,’ she said instead, kissing her cheek again, but her nan’s eyes had already closed.

  Chapter 30

  Gemma opened the front door. She could hear voices coming from the dining room, but she paused for a moment. She’d returned from a meeting with a couple of design firms about the brochures. They were a long way off from that, but she was drawing up a shortlist of companies for when they were ready.

  She looked around the entrance hall, which she and Charlotte were due to discuss transforming into a reception area. She could hear the distant sound of builders, who were working in the attic rooms at such an efficient pace they were on schedule. It was beginning to feel more of a reality by the day, and although it was only June, and they still had months until their February deadline, she knew that time was fleeing like a burglar.

  Her nan was back in the nursing home. She’d mainly recovered from the stroke, as much as she was going to, but now she was even less mobile than before, even less aware. And although the staff were kind and caring towards her, they all knew that quality of life wasn’t something that she would see again. Gemma prayed every night for a miracle, because as long as her nan was still breathing, Gemma would keep hoping.

  And she felt closer than ever to Pippa now, and Freddie even. Now they’d met her nan, they talked about her with Gemma a lot, which was comforting. For someone who never confided thoughts or feelings, she realised how sometimes just sharing details helped, and when they explained that they felt the same about their parents, she understood. It was very late in life for Gemma to join the normal human race, but she felt as if she were doing so. And she hadn’t perfected being human yet, but she was learning.

  She entered the dining room, where around the table, the summer fête committee, who were the same as every other committee as far as she could tell, were all chattering at once.

  ‘Oh, Gemma, how nice to see you,’ Edie shouted.

  Gemma and Edie were properly bonded now. She had given her a crash course in rose care, which Gemma loved, and she always sneaked out to the gardens when the gardening club was there to help her. She could see the attraction of gardening – it was creative, it was calming, it helped her gather her thoughts. It helped her relax.

  ‘We’re trying to decide on a few things about the fête this year,’ John interrupted.

  Although it was Pippa and Freddie’s event, they often let John act as chairman; it kept him happy and from throwing his “bells out of the pram”, as Freddie liked to say.

  ‘Right,’ Gemma said, finding a spare seat next to Harriet. ‘Hi,’ she said.

  ‘Thank goodness you’re here – we need to wind this up. It’s been going on for hours,’ Harriet hissed in her ear.

  ‘Where’s Connor?’

  ‘New arrival at the sanctuary – he needed to be there, lucky him.’


  ‘Right, so as we were saying, we need a celebrity to open the fête,’ John boomed.

  ‘What about Simon Cowell?’ Edie suggested. ‘I really fancy him.’

  ‘Not sure we can get Simon Cowell,’ Freddie said.

  ‘Look,’ Gus interjected, ‘I think we need to be realistic. If we get anyone, we probably have to pay them, and that eats into our profits. Do we really need a celebrity, or can we agree on someone local? You know, from Radio Bristol, or maybe a Bath rugby player.’

  ‘Oh now rugby, that might be nice.’ Edie’s eyes lit up.

  ‘But not the radio,’ Margaret said. ‘No one even knows what they look like.’

  ‘Who did you get last time?’ Gemma asked.

  ‘Ah! That’s the thing. We had Hector Barber the last two years, because I know his agent and he’s become a friend of Meadowbrook, but three years in a row is a bit much. People want new blood.’

  ‘Yes, we love Hector, but there’s no excitement in having him anymore,’ Hilary said.

  ‘Who is he?’ Gemma asked, feeling as if she should know.

  ‘He was on that Singles Holiday TV show, and then he was on every other reality TV show going – the dancing one, the roller skating one, the one where you had to pretend to be a fugitive, baking, flower arranging … you name it, he’s been on it,’ Rose explained with authority.

  ‘I don’t watch much TV,’ Gemma admitted.

  ‘Well, basically he was a reality TV whore, but he’s like part of the family,’ Harriet explained, sounding as if she wanted to put an end to the conversation. ‘And he’ll probably come to the fête to support us, but the guys here—’she gestured to those around the table ‘—want a celebrity to open the fête as well.’

  ‘What about Noel Edmunds?’ Gemma suggested, immediately regretting it.

  ‘Do you know him?’ Edie asked, wide-eyed. ‘I mean he’s no Simon Cowell but he’s quite tasty.’

  ‘No, I don’t.’ Gemma felt a bit foolish. ‘But he doesn’t seem to be doing much at the moment, and I’m sure I read somewhere that he lives in the West Country.’

  ‘Right,’ Harriet said. ‘Thanks, Gemma, but we might need to try to find someone we actually know, or know how to get hold of.’

  ‘Let’s leave that for us all to think about and bring it up at the next meeting,’ Pippa suggested.

  ‘Good plan.’ Freddie breathed a sigh of relief.

  As usual – this was becoming so familiar to Gemma – it took ages for everyone to gather themselves up to leave. Edie was putting uneaten biscuits in her bag. Samuel took ages to be woken up. John was trying to find someone who wanted to hear about his latest morris-dancing exploits – they entered a local competition and came third – only three entrants but still, it was like a bronze medal – and the others were lingering, which Gemma realised they liked to do.

  When they had all been loaded onto the minibus and John drove away, the smiles plastered to the siblings’ faces finally dropped.

  ‘Kitchen?’ Harriet said as they headed back into the house.

  ‘Drink?’ Freddie suggested.

  ‘It is six o’clock,’ Pippa pointed out.

  ‘And that was one long meeting,’ Gus finished.

  They sat around the kitchen table, with gin and tonics in front of them. Freddie mixed them, saying he needed to perfect the making of every drink.

  ‘How can you go wrong with a gin and tonic?’ Gus asked.

  ‘You need to get the amounts right, and also the right level of ice, and just enough cucumber, or lemon or whatever other fruit you’re using,’ he answered with authority.

  ‘Right.’ Gus sipped his drink, his eyes widening – they were strong.

  Gemma winced as she did the same.

  ‘How did you get on today?’ Harriet asked her.

  ‘Possibly better than you guys,’ Gemma joked. ‘And I know that this is a delicate subject, but when this is a hotel, you know you can’t really hold your committee meetings here, not if you’ve got guests. I know it’s a way off, but I thought perhaps you might want to think about that.’

  ‘Good point,’ Harriet replied.

  ‘The committee won’t like it,’ Gus said, shaking his head.

  ‘I know, but Gemma’s right – imagine if the guests are here for peace and quiet and well, Edie basically tries to molest them all,’ Freddie quipped.

  ‘We’ll have to think of somewhere else,’ Pippa added.

  ‘There is something else I thought of, but not to do with the committee,’ Gemma said.

  It had come to her when she visited her nan. Her nan was sitting up in her bed, staring at the television as if she were watching but with no visible response. Sitting with her nan was heartbreaking, more so since the stroke, so the only way she could cope was to focus on something else. The worse her nan got, the more she threw herself into the hotel plans, in order to stop herself from falling apart. Her mind drifted to the hotel and the rooms, which Charlotte was about to start planning the interiors of. The rooms in her nan’s care home all had names – they were, for some reason, named after birds – but it gave Gemma an idea.

  ‘I was thinking how in hotels the rooms are normally numbered, but here, as we want everything about it to reflect the personality of Meadowbrook, I was thinking we should name the rooms.’

  ‘Name them? What like – Henry?’ Freddie asked.

  ‘If you want. For instance, Freddie, I thought that your room could be called “The Prince Regent”. It reminds me of you.’ Gemma sounded bold as she spoke.

  ‘Oh God, how fabulous, and then perhaps Charlotte can design the room accordingly. I mean it doesn’t have to look like the Brighton Pavilion,’ Gus clearly liked the idea, as his voice reflected excitement, ‘but we can put something in, a nod to it.’

  ‘Gem, that’s fantastic. Daddy’s room can be named after a king or a president.’

  ‘Or we can call it The Oval suite – not only does that allude to the president’s office, but also how much he loved cricket,’ Harriet suggested.

  ‘Oh this is fantastic.’ Pippa clapped her hands with glee. ‘I like the idea of having rooms named after classic books as well, like The Princess and the Pea. We could have a high bed,’ she suggested.

  ‘You have all got the idea perfectly.’ Gemma grinned, she was so happy. ‘And what I thought was, if you agree, that once you’ve decided on the names, Gus can paint something for each of the doors.’

  ‘Really? You’d want me to do that?’

  ‘What would be more perfect?’ Gemma said as Gus flushed with happiness. ‘This is a family hotel, and I want everyone’s personalities here, especially your father’s.’

  ‘Oh, Gemma, I am so glad we found you. Pippa leant over and hugged her.

  Gemma felt like a million pounds. Not only did it seem she could actually help them to open a hotel, but she had also found her creative side, one she never knew she had.

  ‘I have to admit, you are really pulling this together,’ Harriet beamed.

  ‘Stop it or I’ll get really bigheaded,’ Gemma protested, but only half-heartedly. She was basking in the praise and wanted the feeling to continue, as she was loving every minute of it.

  Although she’d had two gin and tonics, Gemma went to the sanctuary to see the cats and especially Albert. She had missed the cats today, having been so busy with her meetings. It was late, but Connor was in the office, and Harriet had asked her to get him to call her when he was finished. She left them all debating the perfect gin and tonic, and she was happy to have a bit of time with her cats, and her thoughts.

  ‘Hi, Connor,’ she said as she popped her head around the sanctuary office door.

  ‘Hey. Here to say goodnight to the cats?’

  ‘Is that OK?’

  ‘Course, I’ll get the key. I’ll walk you over, I’m pretty much done here.’

  ‘Harriet said to call her when you’re done.’

  ‘Right.’ Connor led her out.

  ‘Are you all right?�
� she asked. He looked sad.

  ‘I’m just worried about Harry. Or me and Harry. I think we’ve cruised through the honeymoon period and now reality is setting in and I seemed crippled with insecurity.’

  Gemma looked at him in surprise. It seemed she was the Meadowbrook confidante again. But she was hardly a relationship expert.

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘My last serious relationship broke down pretty badly. We both wanted different things; she met someone else. I love Harry, I think I have for most of my life actually, but I’m scared of losing her. Now we’ve settled into a routine, I think she’ll get bored of me.’

  ‘I would hardly say you’re boring,’ Gemma said. Connor was one of the nicest men she’d ever met – he was funny, and dedicated to animals, she admired his passion and he had an enormous heart. ‘And Harriet doesn’t think so.’

  ‘I’m worried about pushing her into doing something she doesn’t want.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, we had the marriage conversation, and we both agreed that it wasn’t something we really felt strongly about. She doesn’t like marriage, and I’ve never been that much of a fan. Don’t know why; but I’d love to be a parent, and I’m not sure she feels the same.’

  ‘You need to talk to her and tell her that you won’t push her into anything until she’s ready. And also, you probably have to convince her that you didn’t decide you wanted a baby because your cow got pregnant.’ Gemma’s lips curled.

  ‘Ha, you are so right. God, that must have sounded so odd. “Madonna’s pregnant, how about we have a calf too!” What was I thinking?’

  ‘I think, deep down, Harriet would love a baby, but I also think she’s scared.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘I’m not sure – not being good at it, probably. Not all women feel that natural maternal thing. I’m not sure I do, either. And you know how Harriet can only be the best at everything.’

  ‘That makes sense. Harriet is an overachiever, so she only does things she’s brilliant at.’

  ‘Then convince her she’ll be brilliant, and let her know that you love her whatever she decides.’

  ‘God, Gemma, you’re right. Since when did you become the Meadowbrook agony aunt?’