Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor

by Faith Bleasdale

  ‘He doesn’t approve of the fact I got famous for having sex on telly. But I’ve changed now, I’m not that womaniser anymore.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure he’ll be fine today.’ Pippa rolled her eyes and for a moment reminded Gemma of Harriet. ‘I’ll have a word.’

  ‘I really think you guys have done an amazing job.’ Gemma decided to change the subject.

  ‘Tell us that when it’s over,’ Freddie said.

  ‘Right, come on, Gemma, time to get stuck in.’ Pippa led her to the main stage, where Gerry was testing the microphone.

  Philip Dunster-Blythe arrived with Charlotte. He was inappropriately dressed in a pinstriped suit – Gemma later found out it was his signature style – and shoes that were clearly expensive and would be ruined by the mud that was already churning in the field. He seemed confident as he strutted up on stage and introduced the fête. Gemma noted how his hair didn’t seem to move, despite the wind, and wondered if it was a hairpiece or just really strong hairspray.

  ‘Thank you all for coming. This promises to be the best fête Meadowbrook and Parker’s Hollow have ever seen. I hope you’ve got your programme of events but if not, go and see one of the stewards. They are the old people in yellow T-shirts,’ he explained as if he did this all the time.

  Gemma was glad Edie didn’t seem to hear him.

  ‘So, if you want a photo with me or an autograph, can’t imagine why, ha ha …’ He paused for laughter and the crowd obliged. ‘But if you do then please queue up here. Oh! And if any of you have any great inventions, then I’ll give you the email address of the production company – we’re always looking for new entrants for our TV show.’

  ‘He’ll regret saying that,’ Hector said as people surged forwards to queue for him. ‘I love these guys, but they don’t half like to talk. He’ll never get away. And they will all want to go on TV, believe me.’

  ‘So, are you glad you’re not opening the fête this year?’ Gemma asked.

  She liked him, she decided. He might have been a Lothario, but he seemed sweet and clearly had a crush on Pippa. And, of course, he was incredibly good-looking.

  ‘Nah, I’m happy to take a step back. I’ve stopped all this reality TV stuff now, and I’m going to prove myself.’

  ‘How so?’ Gemma was interested.

  ‘If I’m honest, I did the TV thing because I was lazy. I saw an opportunity to make some cash with no discernible talent, which I’ve done, but now I want to do something I care about, so I’m going to write book.’

  Connor, who had approached, coughed.

  ‘Can you write?’ Connor asked, clearly not convinced.

  ‘I’ve always been good at English, and so I got my agent to find me a literary agent. They thought I’d need a ghostwriter when I told them my idea for a novel, but then I wrote the beginning bit and they loved it. So now I’ve actually got to write it.’

  ‘Wow! That’s incredible.’ Gemma was impressed.

  ‘Well, it’s time to do something I can be proud of.’

  ‘Good luck, mate,’ Connor said, sounding as if he meant it.

  ‘Thanks, Connor. It’s about a family, four siblings. All of them live in a big old mansion, and then someone starts killing the others’ partners, and finally, when they’re all dead, they start killing the siblings. And the pets, because there are a lot of animals. It’s a bit gruesome. You don’t know if it’s one of the siblings or an outsider.’

  Gemma choked back a laugh. Connor had turned incredibly pale.

  ‘It’s a joke, Connor,’ Gemma said, glad for once not to be the one without a sense of humour.

  ‘Come on, I’ll show you the ropes for the dog show,’ he said, still not laughing.

  Hector winked at Gemma before following him.

  ‘Gemma, can you get me a drink?’ Edie asked.

  She, along with Margaret, was in charge of the bric-a-brac stall, which seemed to have almost sold out. They were both taking their job very seriously; they wouldn’t leave the table unattended. Actually, they liked people running around after them while they sat and gossiped in between selling things. Most of the time people queued while they finished talking.

  ‘What can I get you, ladies?’ Gemma asked fondly.

  ‘Tea and a nice bit of cake, please,’ Edie said. ‘Gemma is such a great girl, like the daughter I never had,’ she boasted.

  Gemma flushed with happiness.

  ‘Same for me, love,’ Margaret said.

  ‘OK, see you in a bit.’

  Gemma ran into Freddie in the refreshment tent.

  ‘I’ve been sent to fetch tea,’ she told him.

  ‘The band are here, and we’ve got them in the summer house, which we’ve said is the changing area. The problem is, as you know, it’s got a lot of glass and not enough blinds, so Fleur and her friends are just staring at them. I told them it’s good practice for the groupies they’ll inevitably have soon, but …’

  ‘Oh to be a teenager again,’ Gemma said, thinking she didn’t even know how to be a teenager when she was one. ‘Do you want me to round up the girls?’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I’ll tell them Hector is about to judge the dog show; they all love him as well, don’t they?’

  ‘They do. Good thinking. Maybe Fleur should have sold tickets for them to see him too. You are a genius, Gemma Matthews.’ He leant over to kiss her cheek, and she felt herself turn red. ‘Oh! There’s Charlotte. I promised that I’d help her children win a coconut.’

  He wandered off and Gemma shook her head. He really had no idea the effect he had on her as, still blushing, she went to deliver the tea and cake.

  ‘I have to go and sort out Fleur. She and her friends are trying to watch the boy band change,’ she explained.

  ‘Where are they?’ Edie asked.

  ‘Summer house. They need to come and see the dog show,’ Gemma replied, turning to go, but Edie grabbed her hand.

  ‘We’ll go,’ Edie said. ‘I need to stretch my legs. Come on, Margaret, Gemma can watch the stall.’

  As they practically ran off – the new hip was obviously working – Gemma didn’t know if the boy band were more a threat from Fleur and her friends, or Edie and Margaret.

  ‘How much is this?’ Steve from the pub asked, picking up a pottery chicken.

  ‘Oh gosh, I don’t know, no one told me about prices,’ Gemma said, realising that she’d been left in charge of a load of tat she knew nothing about.

  ‘Here, have a fiver.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s worth that,’ Gemma started.

  ‘You probably don’t want to let Edie hear you say that and anyway, it’s for a good cause.’ Steve laughed, pressing a note into her hand.

  Gemma could now add terrible saleswoman to the list of jobs she’d had to do since she’d been here.

  Gemma couldn’t believe it was over. The last visitors left the field, and those left behind started the long job of packing up. The afternoon had flown past, and it had been so much fun. The drizzle had eventually stopped and although the sun wasn’t exactly putting in an appearance, it had at least been dry as Philip gave the prizes out before he left. He looked quite relieved to go. Hector was right: he had been bombarded, and nearly everyone seemed to have invented something. Gerry insisted on showing him a new tool. It was a bizarre cross between a saw and a spanner, and seemed to baffle everyone. Gwen had to tell him he was needed elsewhere before he took anyone’s ear off, or worse.

  The dog show was a huge success, and Connor was even being nice to Hector, as more families lined up to enquire about adopting a dog, and Hector charmed them all. The bake-off competition didn’t end in a fight, as everyone agreed that Margaret’s traditional scones with a twist (rosemary) were worthy winners, as was a pudding thing that Celia, a younger member of the village, had baked. It was from the olden days, and no one had ever heard of it, but it was delicious and took second prize. Hilary got a special commendation for her quiches, but they had already decided it would be unf
air for her to win a prize, as she had won for the last two years. It seemed the bake-off was the most political event at the fête, and everyone had to tread carefully so as not to upset any of the bakers. But they managed it, as the local paper photographed all the entrants together. No one had thrown cake, and it was most civilised.

  The boy band was pretty dire, Gemma thought. The rapper was trying to sound as if he were from LA, but he had an unmistakeable Somerset twang, they were all wearing tracksuits and baseball caps, and they looked a bit like the Ali G character from back in the day. Gemma couldn’t believe it – they were acting as if they were from the “hood” rather than the middle-class suburb in Bath. But the girls, led by Fleur and Hayley, screamed the whole time as if they were the best thing ever.

  They finally finished the meet-and-greets – which they hadn’t actually agreed to, but were persuaded by their manager to do with the promise that next time they might actually get paid – and in the end they got out in one piece; although Fleur declared herself to be in love with all of them. Gus loomed threatening when any of them went near his daughter, and Amanda had to try to assure him that she was quite safe – they were eighteen, they weren’t going to be interested in Fleur. She might only be fourteen, but she looked older, so Gemma agreed with Gus.

  It was quite late before they headed back to the house, exhausted, where they shed coats and boots in the boot room then collapsed in the kitchen, as if they didn’t have the energy to go any further.

  There was only Pippa, Freddie, Harriet, Hector and Gemma left. Gus and Amanda had gone with the girls, because Fleur had to go back to her mum, Gwen and Gerry had retired to her cottage, and Connor was checking the animals. Freddie opened a bottle of wine and poured them all a glass.

  ‘A toast to a very successful day,’ he announced.

  He looked pleased and Gemma could see how much pride he took in today.

  ‘You guys did a great job,’ Gemma said. ‘It was such a brilliant day!’

  She could feel her eyes shining with happiness; she really had enjoyed every minute. From the opening, to when she won a bottle of Malibu on the tombola, to watching the dogs refuse to do anything they were told, to the pig race, where Geoffrey won by default as he made it halfway down the track. Even John and the morris-dancing performance had been entertaining.

  ‘I think I was a natural, judging the dogs,’ Hector said with a laugh.

  ‘Yes but still, you could have given Hilda a prize,’ Harriet replied with a smile. ‘And you might want to learn some breeds next time. Calling out “the one with the curly hair” wasn’t very technical.’

  ‘Hilda sat on my foot and refused to move,’ Hector pointed out. ‘Then she wagged her tail so hard against my leg that I’m sure she’s bruised me. And as for the other dogs, they don’t need to know what breed they are.’

  ‘Potential adoptees might, though,’ Pippa pointed out. ‘But I can’t believe it’s over for another year,’ she said, sipping her wine. ‘And we’ll have a lot to do to beat it next year. Although perhaps we shouldn’t think about that just yet.’

  ‘You know, the hotel will be open then,’ Gemma pointed out.

  But, of course, the fête was far enough away from the main house that the guests could either enjoy it or happily ignore it. Gemma could see that they would never cancel the fête – it was far too important to everyone. It felt important to her now.

  ‘My God, it will be, won’t it!’ Pippa’s eyes shone.

  ‘Well I’ve got a feeling we did well with money,’ Harriet said. ‘I reckon we’ve beaten last year easily.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Freddie said. ‘And not only did Philip not charge us for appearing, but he also gave me a big cheque.’ He pulled it out of his pocket, and they all looked at it.

  ‘Ten grand, wow!’ Gemma said.

  ‘He’s got gazillions,’ Hector said. ‘It’s spare change to him.’

  ‘Besides, he said that he felt guilty. His latest girlfriend wanted this particular kind of dog, and it cost him thousands, so when he saw the sanctuary, he actually realised how awful that was.’

  ‘Good, it’s disgusting,’ Harriet said. ‘Pets aren’t status symbols.’

  Gemma grinned. She loved Harriet’s conviction when it came to the animals; it went against the character who Gemma first met.

  ‘Well, I think Philip might have seen that now. He was talking about there being a vacancy for a new one soon.’

  ‘What a new dog?’ Harriet asked.

  ‘No, girlfriend. I think he’s got a bit of a crush on Charlotte, actually.’ Freddie said this without a hint of jealousy.

  ‘Does she like him?’ Hector asked.

  ‘No idea,’ Freddie replied. ‘But with his money, if I were her, I’d jump at it.’

  ‘What about you two?’ Pippa asked. ‘I mean you and her?’

  ‘Oh, I forgot about that. More wine anyone?’

  Chapter 33

  Time was running away from her. Autumn was upon them. The hotel opening was everyone’s focus, apart from the sanctuary, and it was all hands on deck. Harriet had come up with pages and pages of figures, which Gemma had to comprehend fully. Freddie was in panic mode about his upcoming exam, and Gemma had spent time testing him, impressed again by how seriously he was taking it. The interior was taking shape and Gus had come up with a blueprint for workshops, both for painting and for gardening.

  What she didn’t tell them was that although they still had about four months until opening, the amount of work that needed doing seemed insurmountable. She was spending hours and hours in the office, late into the night, with early mornings, because the idea they wouldn’t be ready to open for Gus and Amanda’s wedding wasn’t an option. But she was working herself into a tizzy, because the work wasn’t being ticked off as quickly as she needed. In fact, it seemed to grow rather than shrink. As much as Gemma loved this job, she was still unsure if she could do it at times, and at the moment that was definitely her overwhelming thought. Failure wasn’t an option, but then there were times when she didn’t think success was, either. It almost made her want to hyperventilate.

  ‘Why have you got your head between your knees?’ Harriet asked as she and Pippa appeared in the office.

  ‘Oh I was thinking,’ Gemma mumbled, red-faced.

  ‘I think it’s because she’s working too hard,’ Pippa stated.

  ‘I’m not, there’s just so much to do, and if we don’t—’

  ‘Yes, we know, Gemma.’ Harriet put her hand up in front of her face. ‘If we don’t, then the hotel will never open, and Gus will never get married, and Meadowbrook will be a failure.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘No, Gemma, it won’t. None of those things is going to happen. You might not think it, but we know you’re on top of things, and we are all on top of our jobs thanks to you,’ Harriet said firmly.

  ‘Which is why you’re going to leave that now, go and get glammed up and come out with us.’

  ‘I can’t go out.’ Gemma’s eyes widened.

  ‘Actually, you can and you will, even if we have to kidnap you,’ Harriet said. ‘Girls’ night. Either you come with us looking glam, or we drag you out as you are. The choice is yours.’

  It didn’t exactly sound like a choice.

  Gemma looked around at the packed, hot club and wondered why she never went out. At first she panicked about work, then she felt as if she were a fish out of water, but now it was a new world and she liked it. People were laughing, drinking, dancing, kissing in corners. She was having fun unlike any she’d had before. Although up until now, she didn’t really have anyone to go out with.

  At college she had a couple of girlfriends, but they weren’t into going to clubs, and she didn’t think she was either – probably because she’d never been. Chris hated clubs; in fact, Chris hated going out full stop, as he thought it was a waste of money. And she had heard that so many times, she thought he must be right.

  They went to the cinema if he was feeling daring
, but most of the time they stayed at home – where his mum cooked for them before, like teenagers, they went into his room, or to the bungalow, where they would watch TV with her nan. God, she thought, really, what kind of relationship was that? The odd fumble while they tried to keep quiet lest their family heard. Although Chris’s parents went away a lot, so they did get the place to themselves … She pushed thoughts of him away and returned her focus to the dance floor.

  ‘My God, this is so much fun,’ Pippa squealed, twirling around.

  Gemma smiled – it really was. Harriet had organised the girls’ night for the three of them plus Charlotte. Amanda was going to join them, but then she’d come down with a sore throat at the last minute, so it was just the four of them.

  They’d been dancing for hours – after a few cocktails, which gave Gemma Dutch courage. Pippa seemed to be lost in the music, while Gemma was just happy to be jigging around – she was no dancer, but at least she hadn’t fallen over so far. Harriet and Charlotte bonded over their new favourite sport of getting men to leave them alone. Gemma felt like an alien who had just landed on Earth.

  ‘I can’t believe that men come up to me,’ she said, shouting above the music to be heard, after Harriet swatted away a man with a beard and a man bun, who tried to dance with Gemma.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Pippa asked.

  ‘I mean, I’ve never been chatted up before really.’ She felt stupid saying it. She was pretty sure that even Chris never actually chatted her up. But she didn’t want to think about him now.

  ‘Whyever not? You’re gorgeous.’ And she twirled around again before Gemma could respond.

  ‘God, the bar is awful,’ Harriet complained as she and Charlotte handed over two drinks.

  Gemma wasn’t drunk – she had been dancing so much – but they’d finally taken a breather, mainly because the dance floor was suddenly so packed they kept getting jostled and also, her feet were killing her.

  ‘OK, so sad status alert, but how do people wear heels all the time?’ Gemma asked. ‘My feet are literally crying.’

  ‘I’ve worn them all my adult life,’ Charlotte replied. ‘You get used to them. Well, sometimes, but they play havoc with your feet; my bunions could give Victoria Beckham’s a run for their money.’