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Faith Bleasdale
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Published by AVON

A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2018

Copyright © Faith Bleasdale 2018

Cover design © Diane Meacham 2018

Cover image © Shutterstock

Faith Bleasdale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © August 2018 ISBN: 9780008306953

Version: 2018-07-24

For Jo and Keith, thanks for all your support and inspiration.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

By the Same Author

About the Publisher

Chapter 1

Gemma Matthews rang the buzzer, rubbing her gloved hands together and stomping her feet to try to ward off the cold. She had taken the bus, but still had a twenty-minute walk to get to the residential home. Despite the fact that she did the journey frequently, it was still a difficult one, in more ways than one.

The door was opened by Sarah, one of the carers at the home.

‘Gemma, come in, come in,’ she said, kindly, grimacing as a blast of cold air shot through the door. ‘Blimey, it’s freezing.’

‘Hi,’ Gemma said, still able to see her own breath. ‘How is she today?’ Gemma’s voice wobbled, as it always did when she asked after her nan.

‘Not too bad, love,’ Sarah replied.

Gemma nodded and made her way in.

The warmth of the nursing home hit her as soon as she closed the door behind her. She wrinkled her nose at the familiar smell; the aroma she now associated with old age. Kenworth House was a residential home specialising in taking care of dementia sufferers. Unfortunately Gemma’s nan was one of them, and she’d been here almost a year, ever since Gemma became unable to care for her at home. She signed in at the big marble reception desk, her signature like a spidery mess across the page. If it wasn’t for the smell, Gemma would think she had walked into a five-star hotel – the home was grand and expensive, which was reflected in its interior. Although Gemma knew they were struggling to afford to keep her nan here, she was determined. She had never been so determined about anything in her life, and now it seemed that determination had paid off.

She took the stairs up to her nan’s room on the first floor. Out of habit, she knocked on the door before opening it straight away. She took a breath; every time she walked through this door, she had no idea what would greet her. Would her nan recognise her? Would she welcome her even? One thing she had learnt about dementia was that it was riddled with inconsistency.

‘Hi, Nan,’ she said as breezily as she could, going straight over to where her nan was sitting. She bent down to kiss her cheek, breathing in the familiar lavender scent that characterised Gemma’s childhood, her family.

Her nan was staring out of the window, something Gemma often found her doing. She had a lovely view over the grounds of the home, which were vast with beautifully kept sweeping lawns, and flower beds ready to spring into colour. Her nan had always loved gardens, and Gemma was glad that she had this view.

‘Gemma?’ her nan asked uncertainly as she turned to her. Relief flooded through Gemma; it was a good day.

‘Yes, Nan, and I’ve brought you some flowers.’

She took a bunch of wild flowers out of her bag, and put them under her nan’s nose. Her nan smiled as she smelt them. One of her passions in life was gardening – her nan’s not Gemma’s. Gemma remembered how weekends would be spent with her nan digging, planting or weeding while Gemma would read a book outside if the weather was good, watching her, being close to her.

‘And of course your favourite wine gums.’

She handed them to her. Gemma liked bringing wine gums; when she was a kid, her nan would bring home packets from the post office on a Friday, and it would be a treat that Gemma looked forward to. After a fish and chip supper, they would share the wine gums. It was nostalgic but the only way Gemma felt she could cling to her past.

‘Thank you, love,’ her nan said with a slight smile.

‘Let me put the flowers in water,’ Gemma said quickly.

Her nan’s room was large, with a plush beige carpet, a bed, with an old-fashioned eiderdown covering it, and two chairs arranged around a small table. When her nan first moved in, Gemma had brought her favourite pictures to put up, including her wedding photo and a photo of her and Gemma when they were on holiday. The rest of the room housed a few of her books, which sat on a small shelf, although they were largely unread.

Gemma picked up the vase with the flowers from her last visit, which she deposited in the bin before going to the sink to rinse the vase and fill it with fresh water. She arranged the flowers, put them on the table and then sat in the chair next to her nan. She was bursting to tell her her news, but she had learnt that in order not to startle her nan, she needed patience.

‘So,’ she asked slowly, ‘how are you?’

‘Oh I’m just grand, love,’ her nan said with a smile. Her hands shook slightly as she gestured for Gemma to open the wine gums.

The door opened and Sarah came in.

‘Can I get you ladies a nice cuppa?’ she asked.

‘Yes please,’ Gemma replied. ‘Tea, Nan?’

‘That would be lovely, thank you,’ her nan said.

As Sarah disappeared, Gemma took a wine gum and smiled.

‘Nan, I have some news,’ she started.

‘Oh yes?’

Gemma saw the woman who had brought her up, the woman who was the rock in her life, until the cruel illness descended on their lives, ruining everything. Her face was the same, but her brain wasn’t. When, like today, her nan recognised Gemma, she felt as if she’d won the lottery.

‘You know I told you that I was going to apply for a new job?’ Her nan shook her head, and Gemma felt angry with herself. She should never ask her if she remembered anything. ‘Sorry. Anyway, I applied for a new job. As a hotel consultant to set up a new hotel in a gorgeous, gorgeous manor house.’ Her words wanted to rush out of her mouth, and Gemma told herself to calm down. But she had never felt this excited before.

‘Oh yes?’ Her nan seemed to be following this.

‘Meadowbrook Manor. It’s in a small village in the Mendips. Anyway, the family are turning the house into a small hotel, or that’s the intention, and they’ve offered me the job of helping them to open it.’

Technically, only one of the family had offered her the job, Pippa Singer; she hadn’t met the others yet, which was a little strange. Or even seen the house in person, which was stranger still, but Pippa had insisted that she was perfect for the job without her even visiting and after only one interview. Gemma had jumped for joy when she phoned to tell her. No one had ever called her perfect before – no one apart from her nan.

‘Well that sounds lovely, what good news.’ Her nan’s eyes shone. She gave Gemma’s hand a squeeze. ‘I’m very proud of you, you know.’

Gemma’s eyes filled with tears. It was small, tiny, but it felt as if she had been handed the world.

‘Yes, it’s a dream job, and the best thing is that it comes with accommodation, so when the bungalow sale goes through I won’t have to worry about where to live. And until then the salary means we will manage the fees more comfortably.’

Her nan’s eyes flickered at that.

‘The bungalow?’ she asked. ‘I don’t quite …’ She trailed off. She looked at the open packet of sweets in her hand as if she didn’t know what they were. And Gemma knew she had lost her for today. It happened like that sometimes – one minute she was there, the next, she couldn’t find her.

Sarah returned with tea and placed it down. Gemma picked up the mug and thanked her. Her nan was staring out of the window once again.

‘Are you all right?’ Sarah asked.

‘Oh yes,’ her nan replied. ‘My daughter was just telling me about her new job.’

Sarah looked at Gemma, who had gone from elation to sorrow. In one easy move.

‘You mean your granddaughter, love – it’s Gemma,’ Sarah said kindly. The staff at the home said that sometimes it helped to trigger memory if you corrected her, although Gemma could never bring herself to.

‘Oh yes, of course, my granddaughter,’ her nan said without a hint of recognition, and she popped another wine gum in her mouth.

Chapter 2

‘Here we are, love,’ the taxi driver said as he pulled up, got out of the car and held the door open for her.

Gemma eagerly stepped out, and an involuntary gasp escaped her lips as she could only stare, in awe, at the house in front of her. The house that she had craved so intensely to be inside was right here, in all its wonderful glory.

Despite the fact she had stared at the photograph of Meadowbrook daily, she still hadn’t been prepared for its actual magnificence. Nothing could have prepared her for that. Like an old-fashioned doll’s house that every little girl coveted. She had stared at the photo so many times it was tattooed on her brain. She had felt herself being drawn into it. She had studied the tall oblong windows as if she could see herself behind them. Peering out onto the circular drive, waiting for … well, she wasn’t sure what the “her” behind the window was waiting for, although whatever it was, in this house, it would come. She knew that it would come.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away, forgetting that the February drizzle was making her blonde shoulder-length hair frizzy and her best suit damp as she gaped, goldfish-like, at the place that would be her work and also her home for the next few months. How on earth had this happened? Part of her wanted to do a jig, another part to cower in the taxi forever.

‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ the driver stated. Gemma could only nod as she pulled her purse from her bag and held some notes out to him. ‘Best house in Parker’s Hollow, probably in the Mendips,’ he continued as they both stared at the Georgian manor house, which seemed, ridiculously, to be staring back at them.

In real life, the house was enormous. Grand, with impressive windows and an imposing front door. The drive and immediate entrance were immaculately kept, neat bushes lined up, and statues that looked genuinely aged, covered with moss, stood guard. The surrounding countryside, fields, trees, hedgerows complemented the house and even the air smelt different. A bird, or number of birds, squawked in the background as she gulped in the air; she was no longer in the city. She was in paradise.

‘Right you are, love,’ the driver said, bringing her back to the present as he handed over her change, and with a kindly wave he got back into the car.

Part of her wanted to run after the cab, part of her wanted to run up to the front door and burst into her new, albeit temporary, life.

Gemma tried to arrange her face into a smile, but the nerves that were jangling around meant she was unsure if it was a grimace. She gave herself a bit of a talking-to – something she had been doing a lot in the last few weeks – and she tried to smooth down her hair, which she now imagined was sticking up in all directions.

She was about to start her dream job. When she applied for it, back in December, she didn’t for one moment believe she would get it. It seemed like such a golden opportunity, she rationalised that hundreds of people, at least, would apply, and she wouldn’t stand a chance. But somehow, she was about to embark on a six-month contract, staying at Meadowbrook Manor, to act as their hotel consultant. Six months living at Meadowbrook, helping the family set up their new hotel, it was the opportunity of a lifetime. And it was her opportunity. She still couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe she deserved it. She didn’t deserve it.

She took a breath as she watched the taxi disappear completely from view. Inside the impressively stunning house, waiting for her, were her future employers: the Singers. She was anxious about meeting them all. The speed between the application, her interview with Pippa and her being here now was less than two months; therefore, she had barely had the chance to process what was happening. Even when she had told her nan about it, it still didn’t feel real. But, as she grabbed her suitcase and half wheeled, half hauled it up towards the front door, she knew what she’d been given was undeniably a gift. Now all she had to do was to do a good job and prove that Pippa was right to hire her. She hoped, prayed that she could do just that.

After all, there was no turning back.

Pippa Singer opened the door with a huge welcoming smile. Gemma couldn’t help but be happy to see her new boss. She was beautiful, warm, kind and unlike anyone Gemma had ever met before.

When, knees literally knocking, Gemma had walked into the coffee shop in central Bristol and gazed around, she immediately recognised the stunning blonde woman, who was sitting at a table nursing a coffee, as Pippa. Meadowbrook and the Singer siblings had quite an online profile, mainly owing to the work they did at their animal sanctuary. Pippa was not only beautiful, but when Gemma tentatively approached her, she had also acted as if they were long-lost friends. For a minute, Gemma’s nerves disintegrated, as she was mesmerised by this woman.

The interview flew by at an amazing speed. Pippa oozed warmth and kindness as she asked Gemma questions not just about her professional life, but her personal one as well. Pippa proved herself an open book, as she offered information about her family and Meadowbrook without Gemma having to ask a single question. She perhaps shared a bit too much information, Gemma thought. For her part, Gemma told Pippa how much she loved the house from the photo – now, she blushed slightly at the memory of how she had gushed about it having a personality and a soul. But Pippa had lapped all that up and said that she clearly “got” Meadowbrook.

Afterwards, back at the hotel where she worked in Bristol, she mulled it all over. It was the most unorthodox interview Gemma had ever attended – not that she had been to many – and when she got a phone call the following day saying the job was hers, she had to pinch herself a number of times. But Pippa had been adamant that she was perfect for the job, for Meadowbrook. She sent over an official offer, the start date being set for the first of February, which meant she had Christmas and January to sort everything out. She had been counting the minutes until she finally got to meet Meadowbrook in person, and she felt as if she spent the whole two months dazed and waiting for her phone to ring, only to hear Pippa say that she had made a terrible mistake, she meant to hire someone else. But that hadn’t happened.

‘Oh, Gemma, I’m so pleased you’re finally here,’ Pippa gushed, throwing her arms around her once again as if she were a long-lost friend. Gemma dropped her suitcase in surprise and then winced as it caught her foot. ‘Sorry, sorry, do come in.’ Pippa took the luggage and stood back to let her in. ‘I insisted on my siblings not being here; I didn’t want to scare you off before you even got to look at the place. But I have to warn you that once you’ve unpacked, they’ll be waiting for you. Everyone’s so excited to meet you.’

Pippa was breathless, and Gemma still hadn’t spoken yet.

‘It’s lovely to see you again,’ she finally managed, intimidation stabbing her, coupled with relief that she didn’t have to step straight into the lion’s – or Singer siblings’ – den.

As she stepped into the grand hallway she felt herself shaking slightly – she was in the house! Just as she imagined herself being. The entrance hall seemed as big as her nan’s bungalow, where she had lived all her life. With its polished parquet flooring, art dominating the walls, and the biggest vase of fresh flowers on an antique carved console table, it was unlike anything Gemma had ever seen. As Pippa grabbed her arm reassuringly, Gemma was rendered mute.

‘So, where shall we start?’ Pippa clapped her hands together. ‘I know, I’ll show you to your room. It was Harriet’s room, but she doesn’t live at the house anymore, so I thought I’d put you in there; it’s such a lovely room. Also, it’ll give you a feel for what the hotel might be like. God, can you imagine we are going to have paying guests here one day! I almost can’t believe it’s actually going to happen!’ Pippa was hopping around, she was so animated and effervescent, the human equivalent of champagne, Gemma thought.

‘I know, although of course there’s a long way to go,’ Gemma cautioned, trying to chase the blind panic away as it threatened to floor her. ‘But it’ll be lovely to see my room and get rid of my bags. Honestly, Pippa, I really want to thank you again – this is a great opportunity.’ Gemma sounded like a stranger to herself as she spoke. She needed to collect herself, to stop acting so weirdly lest she lose the job before she even started.

‘Oh no, thank you, I just knew that you were the one to help us from the moment I met you … no, before that, when I read your letter and CV, and I also know we are going to be the best of friends.’

Gemma was startled as Pippa engulfed her in a second embrace.

Settled into what was now her bedroom for the foreseeable future, she finally remembered to breathe. If Meadowbrook was to be her home for at least six months, while she helped the Singer family set up their hotel, she needed to think of it as such. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to the luxury she found herself in, but she was going to have to try. She needed to start embracing her good fortune rather than behaving like a rabbit caught in the headlights. After all, Pippa was so welcoming; she could only hope the rest of the Singers would be the same.

She unpacked her case; she hadn’t brought too much with her, some work suits and a limited casual wardrobe. She didn’t have far to go to the bungalow in Bristol if she needed anything else, but it felt presumptuous turning up with too much.

She went over to the floor-to-ceiling window of the bedroom, which looked out onto the front of the house. With views over the Mendips, she was mesmerised. It was as she imagined when she looked at the photo, the woman in the window. That woman was her, it was actually her.

She pulled all her books out of her oversized bag and put them away in the bedside table. They were text books she’d used when she took her hotel management course, and she was praying they would help her now. Because it was a dream job, yes, but also a rather big job, and she had no idea how she was going to manage … She pushed the negative thoughts away and thought about how she had got to this. Throughout her life, people had put her down, not her nan, but almost everyone else. This job was supposed to end all that, give her a new start. She was not only doing this for her nan, but she was also doing it for herself.

She knew she was far too cautious, and always had been. Gemma took the safest option when she could, owing to her upbringing, owing to an ingrained fear that never left her. Her nan, who had brought her up, and was her only family, tried her best to bolster her confidence, but her vulnerability dominated her life.

And now her nan wasn’t around, and Gemma felt alone. At first, the dementia wasn’t too bad. Gemma could juggle her college course and taking care of her nan, but in time it got worse. Hence the residential home.

Missing her nan was something that would never go away. Watching someone you love slip away from you, however it happened, was the most painful thing. She wanted her nan, the woman who she knew, the one who tried to encourage her, who made her feel loved. But, unfortunately, after visiting her, she often ended up feeling lonelier than ever.

Now, though, in Meadowbrook she was being offered a fresh start, and God knew she needed it badly. It was a gift, she thought again, as she wiped tears off her cheeks, and she needed to make it work. Those were her new mantras, and she would keep repeating them, until she believed them.

Chapter 3

A knock on the door interrupted her myriad of thoughts.

‘Hello,’ she said, and after a beat, Pippa appeared.

‘Is everything all right?’ she asked. She had pulled her hair back, Gemma noticed, and although dressed casually – jeans, a sweater – she still looked elegant. Gemma glanced down at her suit and wondered if she was overdressed. But then she was starting work, and her nan always said first impressions were crucial.

‘This room is stunning,’ Gemma replied truthfully. From the king-size bed with the upholstered headboard and luxurious bed linen, which felt how she imagined lying on a cloud to be, to the en suite bathroom, this was better than she could ever have imagined. ‘Honestly, if the rest of the house is like this, people will be beating your door down to stay here.’ She smiled, trying to sound confident, to sound like the Gemma that Pippa had hired, not the scared little girl she was a minute ago.

‘Oh! That’s so lovely of you to say.’ Pippa flushed pink. ‘It’s so important to me to make this work. You see, it’s sort of the only real job I’ve ever had, and I haven’t even really started yet! But I need to prove that I can do this, and I know you are the person to help me. Anyway, enough about that.’

Gemma was getting used to the idea that Pippa jumped from topic to topic. She had got an inkling of how much opening the hotel meant to her when they first met. Pippa explained how she had gone from living with her father – who had now passed away – to getting married in her early twenties to a man who had hurt her very badly. She didn’t know the full story, but Pippa was so open she assumed she probably would at some stage. And Gemma felt a huge responsibility to help her. She was determined to do so.

Gemma stood up. She caught her reflection in the large, ornate full-length mirror and it took her by surprise, for a moment.

She’d undergone a bit of a makeover before her job interview; a long overdue image change. Her dark blonde hair had been lightened and cut into shoulder-length layers, giving it the illusion of thickness. She started wearing make-up, only a bit, but it did brighten her up. Gemma had never thought of herself as attractive, mainly because no one apart from her nan ever told her she was. But not anymore. New job, new Gemma, and now all she had to do was to meet Pippa’s family and help them to open a hotel. How hard could it be?

She followed Pippa down the long, curved staircase, once again marvelling at the house and almost losing her footing. She couldn’t begin to imagine how it would feel to live in it, or to have grown up here. A fantasy life.

‘They’re in here, the dining room,’ Pippa said as she opened the door, stepping back to let Gemma go first.

Sitting around the most enormous dining table, she found herself looking at the rest of the family. She gulped and tried to find a smile.

The dining room was every bit as magnificent as she expected. She was so busy staring at a huge portrait of a handsome man, a beautiful woman with three small children and a baby, which she knew must be the Singer family, that she walked into the table.

‘Ow,’ she said, reddening and rubbing her hip.

‘Are you all right?’ Pippa asked as her family, all sat along one side of the table, looked at her with puzzled expressions.

‘Sorry, I was looking at …’ Words failed her.

Collecting herself, she concentrated on the siblings, who she felt she knew from her Internet research. Despite the fact that two of them had dark hair (Harriet and Gus) and one of them blonde like Pippa (Freddie), they shared familiar similarities. There was also an older woman, and another man with messy brown hair and a smile that almost put her at ease, who she assumed must be Gwen and Connor from details that Pippa had shared and she had committed to her memory.

Gwen was the family’s housekeeper and second mum. She was semi-retired but she still pretty much ran the domestic side of Meadowbrook. Connor, her son, was Harriet’s boyfriend, and they lived together in one of the cottages she’d passed on her way here. Gwen lived in the other. Gemma was piecing it all together in her mind, trying to keep track and concentrate. She needed to make sure she knew and remembered everything.

Freddie looked a bit like a male version of Pippa and was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen – he looked like a film star. The photo she had seen of him didn’t quite do him justice; he was even more gorgeous in real life. As he smiled at her, her knees buckled, but she grabbed the table to steady herself.

Next to him sat Gus, who was handsome in a more traditional way; hair flecked with grey, dark brown eyes and a serious expression. Harriet was undoubtedly attractive, well groomed and had an air of sophistication about her – they were a good-looking family. Intimidatingly so. Especially Harriet, whose demeanour was sharper and who was still eyeing Gemma with suspicion.

If Gemma were normal, she might have felt a stab of jealousy. Here she was, with no family except for a nan wasting away in a nursing home, and here were they, all attractive, living in luxury and having each other. But Gemma didn’t do jealousy. Envy maybe, but not full-blown resentment. It wasn’t in her nature.

‘This is Gemma Matthews,’ Pippa said with a flourish. ‘Gemma, from left to right, that’s Freddie, Gus, and Harriet.’ She paused and smiled. ‘And of course Gwen, who’s lovely and the best cook ever; she’ll help us to design all the menus for the hotel. And finally Connor, Harry’s boyfriend who runs the animal sanctuary and is also a vet.’

‘Hello,’ Gemma said. She was gripping the table so tightly her knuckles turned white.

There was a woof and a shaggy Old English sheepdog rushed out from under the table and bounded up to Gemma.

‘Oh, and not forgetting Hilda,’ Pippa said as Gemma bent down to stroke her.

Well the dog was friendly at least and gave her a chance to try to compose herself. Whether she was nervous, intimidated, terrified or a combination of the three she was unsure, but she needed to pull herself together. She hadn’t yet managed to get through an hour at Meadowbrook – how would she manage six months?

‘Sit down,’ Harriet commanded, sounding formal.

Gemma immediately did as she was told. She knew that Harriet used to work in investments in New York and had a reputation as quite a “ballbreaker”.

‘Right,’ Harriet continued. ‘Sorry to jump right in, but Pippa hired you before she actually told us she had even interviewed anyone.’ She didn’t sound delighted and Gemma felt uneasy at this piece of news.

‘But, Harry, you said I could take the lead with the hotel,’ Pippa objected.

‘Well yes, and I know we’ve been through this a thousand times, but Gemma needs to understand that it’s still a family business,’ Gus pointed out, although he smiled reassuringly at Gemma. ‘Pip, decisions this big should be shared.’

‘Exactly,’ Harriet added.

‘I agree,’ Freddie concurred. ‘The thing is, Gemma, that this is our hotel, not just Pippa’s, and I know my little sister is a little overenthusiastic about it but well, I also think that we should have met you before she offered you the job.’

Gemma felt her heart sink. They were going to sack her before she’d even had a chance to see the whole house at this rate. Perhaps she shouldn’t have unpacked.

‘Hang on,’ Pippa said. ‘Of course the hotel is a family business, which is why you are all here, but I am going to take charge, we agreed, so I think that I was perfectly within my rights to hire Gemma.’

As Gemma’s head swung between the siblings, she wondered just what was going on.

‘If you really believed that then why didn’t you tell us before you actually offered her the job?’ Harriet pushed. ‘Instead of just having her turn up.’ She smiled, slightly smugly, having made her point.

Gemma would not like to argue with Harriet.

‘It was a surprise,’ Pippa said, but she glanced down at the table a little shamefaced.

Gemma’s heart sank. Pippa didn’t have the blessing of the others to hire her, and she had done it without them because she didn’t want them to disagree with her. Which she had a feeling they would have done. She couldn’t imagine Harriet hiring her in a million years. Harriet would have hired someone more like herself, probably.

‘Oh, great way to run a business.’ Harriet’s voice was laced with sarcasm. ‘If only I’d managed to run a multimillion-pound trading desk by surprising everyone.’

‘Now hang on, this isn’t the same thing,’ Pippa argued. ‘And I know you wanted to be involved, but I thought as I would be working the most closely with the hotel consultant then I should have the final say.’

‘Well it is almost the same, because it’s our future,’ Freddie countered. ‘The future of our family home.’

‘And therefore we need to agree on the big decisions,’ Harriet persisted.

Gemma wondered if she should just leave. It was as if they had forgotten she was there.

‘Hold on,’ Gwen said. ‘Before you all descend into a massive argument in front of Gemma, and let’s face it, we’ve been through this enough times before she got here, perhaps we should give Pippa and Gemma a chance.’ Her voice was calm and reasonable, and Gemma wanted to throw herself into her arms. ‘After all, she’s here now.’

‘I agree,’ Connor said, earning himself a scowl from his girlfriend. ‘No, Harry, I mean I agree with you, Pippa shouldn’t have gone behind your back, but … So how about you let Gemma show you that she’s the right person for the job?’ He leant over and kissed Harriet’s cheek as she pretended to pull away from him without actually doing so. They were clearly in love – it was written over both their faces.

‘A probation period then,’ Harriet said.

Gemma groaned inwardly. It was like being given sweets and then having most of them taken away again.

‘That’s a good compromise,’ Gus reasoned.

‘One month.’ Harriet stared at Gemma, who looked at the table.

‘I’m OK with that.’ Freddie shrugged.

‘I guess that’s fair,’ Gus added.

‘Well, I suppose I don’t have a choice.’ Pippa didn’t sound very keen.

Nor was Gemma. She thought about the fact that she had left her job for this, and the fact that her nan’s bungalow would be sold soon and she would have nowhere to live. Not to mention the care home fees that needed paying. She needed this job. She had no choice but to do whatever it took to keep it. She decided to take a chance, to seize the day, something she had never done before, but something she vowed she would do from now on.

‘Can I just say,’ she started, trying to ignore the wobble in her voice, ‘I have given up a full-time job to come here, and I was overjoyed at the idea that I would get a chance to help you to set up a brand-new hotel, but if you aren’t able to agree with each other, I’m not sure how this is going to work.’ She paused as she felt all eyes on her. ‘I mean it is a family business as you’ve pointed out, and the future of your family home, so before we start, everyone needs to be on the same page.’

‘Good point, Gemma,’ Gwen said. ‘Don’t worry, love, they bicker a lot. You’ll get used to it, but when the chips are down they all support each other. Don’t you?’ Gwen glared at each of them in turn.

‘Of course we do,’ Pippa mumbled. ‘Gemma, will you accept a trial period, just to keep the peace? After all, I knew as soon as I met you, you were right for Meadowbrook, so therefore I have every confidence in you, even if my siblings don’t in me.’ She folded her arms.

Gemma felt sick. She had to resist holding her hands up and saying she wasn’t sure she could do it after all. But then again she thought of her nan, before she got ill, telling her that she was capable of so much, that she needed to aim for the stars and start taking risks. It was one of the last, most lucid conversations they’d had. She needed to take her words on board. She owed her that much.

‘Of course. I’m confident in my abilities and am happy to prove it to you all,’ she replied, feeling her leg shaking under the table and hoping she was a good liar, because she clearly needed to be.

‘Right, well that’s all decided.’ Harriet finally smiled. ‘So, welcome to Meadowbrook, Gemma, and perhaps we can now all go to the kitchen and have a nice cup of tea and some of Gwen’s famous cake.’

‘Great, thanks.’ Gemma felt relief pumping through her veins, although she also felt a bit faint.

‘Or I could make a cocktail?’ Freddie suggested.

‘Fred, it’s only three o’clock,’ Gus said.

‘All right, all right, tea it is then.’ He rolled his eyes.

Gemma felt as if she had jumped, or rather stumbled over the first hurdle. Hilda sat at her feet and thumped her tail against her leg. She had won over Pippa and Hilda, Gwen and Connor seemed supportive, so just the other three to go then.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a pleasant blur. Harriet was a little warmer towards her – slightly south of Siberia anyway, as they sat in the largest kitchen that Gemma had ever seen, apart from on Downton Abbey. Gwen put the most sumptuous-looking cake in the centre of the kitchen table, Connor and Gus made tea, and as they all sat around the less formal table, Hilda settled herself by the Aga and promptly fell asleep. It was such a family scene, Gemma thought, but one that drew tears to her eyes, as she had never had a family like this. Visions of Sunday afternoon tea with her nan and her, sat alone around the small Formica table, illustrated her childhood. Her granddad died before she was born. Her father left days after her birth, followed four years later by her mother. She hadn’t seen either of them since. Her nan took over Gemma’s care with a devotion that she knew she was lucky to have.

Gemma loved her nan and she couldn’t have wished for more love in her childhood. She hated to sound as if she were ungrateful, but she often wondered what would have happened had her parents not left. When she was younger she fantasised that they hadn’t, that they had stayed together and given Gemma siblings. Pure childish fantasy.

‘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.

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Дата выхода на Литрес:
14 мая 2019
Объем:
362 стр. 4 иллюстрации
ISBN:
9780008306953
Правообладатель:
HarperCollins

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