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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.

Gemma’s nan always told her that feeling sorry for yourself was unattractive and Gemma tried, tried really hard, to remember that, but sometimes she failed. It was as if she couldn’t shake the expectation that everyone would leave her. And now, in many ways her nan had too, although she also knew that that wasn’t her choice.

So, the new Gemma was trying even harder. Although she didn’t have Pippa’s ethereal beauty, or Harriet’s striking looks, she wasn’t unattractive. Since her makeover she was beginning to think she wasn’t too bad at all. But a lifetime of feeling unremarkable wasn’t just going to go away overnight. It was more inside than out. She was still a work-in-progress, especially at Meadowbrook where she was surrounded by beautiful, confident people, who reflected the house perfectly. Perhaps some of that would rub off on her if she were lucky. Or if she survived this buggy ride.

‘You probably won’t die. But at least you’ll feel alive when we reach our destination in one piece,’ he finally replied, screeching to a halt. ‘Voilà, the lake.’

They both climbed out of the buggy, and although her legs were still a bit jelly-like, she surveyed the horizon. It was a cold, crisp day, and the light bouncing off the lake reflected that. It was so peaceful, the winter sun shimmering on the surface as the water lay flat, and apart from the odd birdcall, it was blissfully silent.

‘Do people fish?’ she asked, finally.

‘No, we swam in it as kids though, and I think Harriet still does sometimes. Not me – I prefer the indoor heated pool. There are public footpaths through the land, so we do get walkers, which is fine. Why, do you fish?’ Freddie grinned.

‘No.’ Gemma wondered why he made her feel so awkward. ‘I was just asking – you know, for the hotel.’ She went closer to the lake, stumbling as she caught her foot on a large unseen stone.

‘Bloody hell, don’t fall in,’ Freddie said, moving to help her as she righted herself. ‘It’ll be freezing. No, I wouldn’t think we’d want to attract men in waders and suchlike anyway. No, my vision for the hotel is more Bright Young Things.’

‘You want to attract bright young people?’

He turned to her, his lips curling up. ‘No, well yes, but I mean like the film. Glamorous young people, having good old-fashioned fun and drinking cocktails made by moi – you know, I’ve done a cocktail-making course. Via the Internet, but still, they sent me a certificate.’

Gemma wondered if Freddie was joking, but for once he looked serious.

‘You can learn via the Internet?’ Gemma asked, trying not to sound as astounded as she felt.

‘Yes, of course. They put loads of videos up, so I not only learnt recipes, but also technique. Even the whole throwing of the cocktail shaker, although I wasn’t very good at that. But I perfected the mixing. I am officially a mixologist now. Well, I think I am. And tonight I will show you, and you can sample some of my signature drinks. I intend to be in charge of the bar at the hotel, and I’m going to design the drinks menu. It’s my area of expertise after all.’

‘Well, I’m not much of a drinker, remember.’ Gemma was terrified. He was so sure of himself, although he didn’t seem arrogant. She could only dream of a fraction of his confidence. She wondered if he would spare her any.

‘Bloody shame.’ He shook his head in disgust, and Gemma realised she might have to start drinking cocktails to keep the job.

‘But I’ll look forward to sampling some of your concoctions, of course.’ She attempted a laugh.

‘Oh brilliant, and if I were you I’d get good and hammered tonight.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘You’ve got a meeting with Harriet tomorrow morning. She’s much easier to deal with with a hangover, believe me. Right, come on, I’ll show you where we host our main events and then take you to the animal sanctuary. Back in the buggy.’

‘If I have to,’ Gemma mumbled under her breath.

Just as she thought she was getting the hang of all this, she felt the ground being swept from under her again. Literally this time, as the buggy seemed to take off into the air.

She was so pleased to have her feet on the ground again, she almost threw herself down to kiss it. They had parked up at the animal sanctuary, and as Harriet had gone somewhere for supplies and Connor was working at the vets’ practice, Freddie – with the help of Amy, one of the full-time workers – gave Gemma the tour. Amy clearly had a crush on Freddie, as she hung on his every word and practically ignored Gemma. Freddie was flirting with her masterfully, but then Amy was young and pretty, so why wouldn’t he?

‘So, how many animals do you have?’ Gemma asked as they started by visiting the dogs.

‘Loads,’ Freddie replied. ‘Would you say, Amy?’

‘Oh yes,’ Amy breathed. ‘Loads.’

Gemma was sure it wasn’t going to be the most informative tour ever.

She rubbed her temples. The dogs, who were incredibly excited and loud, had given her a headache, although she felt so sorry for them, all abandoned when they should have been in loving homes. She tried not to think that she could identify with them. They moved on to the cats, who were much more calming. The chickens were a surprise, as Freddie seemed very fond of them, and then she had been introduced to – yes, really – two alpacas, four pigs, three mini ponies, a donkey, a blind sheep, her “guide” lamb and three goats.

‘So the alpacas, Sebastian and Samantha, are a bit stuck-up,’ Freddie explained.

‘Really?’ Gemma noticed they seemed to be doing their best to ignore her.

‘I think they think they’re better than us, but anyway, come on, there’s more to see.’

Gemma shook her head.

She tried to remember all the animal names, but there were so many, as Freddie told her the brief history and Amy showed how competent she was with each one – including the hoity alpacas, by petting them, or in the case of the pigs, giving them some food.

Gemma wasn’t much of a country girl – in fact, she wasn’t a country girl at all, so she was finding it quite intimidating. Even Cookie, Clover and Brian, the miniature ponies who were sweet and tiny, managed to scare her a bit.

‘See over there …’ Freddie pointed to the next field, where there were two cows, both with impressive horns, although one was much bigger than the other. They looked pretty aggressive. Freddie was standing very close to her, and Gemma could feel the heat radiating from him. Amy approached and wedged herself to Freddie’s other side. Gemma nodded.

‘That is David. You see, we had two gay cows.’

‘Gay cows?’ Just as Meadowbrook couldn’t seem any more eccentric.

‘Well bulls technically, as they’re boys. David, who you see there, and Elton.’

‘Elton and David?’ Gemma wondered if she were dreaming.

‘Yes, they weren’t the friendliest to others, but they adored each other. Sadly, Elton died.’

‘Oh no!’ She felt sorry for David suddenly.

‘Funny story, actually. Well not Elton dying, that was awful – we all cried that day – but I run the social media and I tweeted it and everyone thought that I meant Elton John had died, so it sort of went viral. Then I had to explain quickly that it was Elton, the gay cow, but it had already made a newspaper, and I got in a fair bit of trouble with Harriet, but it did get us a lot more Twitter followers, so it’s not all bad.’

‘So who’s the cow, or bull with him now?’

‘She’s a cow, and after Elton died, David was pining badly, so Connor thought he would try to find him a companion. Well this poor cow who had been treated quite badly came up, and so Connor somehow got them together and they seemed to get on. Between you and me, I think she’s a bit of a fag hag. She’s called Madonna.’

‘Of course she is.’ Gemma couldn’t help but laugh. This might be the maddest place she had ever been, but it was also the most entertaining. She realised how little she laughed in life, and with Freddie she felt like laughing a lot. This was a positive, and she was going to hold on tight.

Chapter 5

Gemma groaned when she opened her eyes. Her head felt fuzzy and heavy, not a sensation she was used to. In order to impress Freddie, she had made an effort last night to enjoy his cocktails, which he’d mixed for her and Pippa in the drawing room, and it hadn’t taken much to get her drunk. Oh God, she was mortified.

She’d embarrassingly had to go to bed just as Freddie was getting into his (Martini) stride. She vaguely remembered Freddie making a cutting comment to Pippa about why on earth she had to hire such a lightweight. Oh God, she rubbed her temples. Pippa had said that she didn’t make her applicants drink as part of the interview process. Freddie said she should have done, and Gemma tripped on the stairs, screamed, and they both had to help her up to bed.

She would have been offended if the stairs hadn’t been moving. She was also too busy trying to see only one Pippa and one Freddie.

Gemma vaguely remembered saying to Pippa, as she helped her into her room, that she had no nice clothes, and she had an even fuzzier recollection of Pippa saying she would help. She wished the details were clearer. She wasn’t quite sure, but she seemed to recall that Pippa said their father wouldn’t let them spend much money for the year after he died – did that make sense? He’d given them a small allowance to live on, so they’d had to buy clothes in charity shops. She couldn’t see Harriet Singer, or Freddie, wearing second-hand clothes. Maybe she dreamt it. Maybe she had a drunken reality that wasn’t real at all. And this was why she stayed away from alcohol most of the time. Or actually it wasn’t – staying away from alcohol was another way in which she wasn’t normal.

Abandoning her failed attempts to go back to sleep, she shuffled out of bed and put on her gym clothes. It was only six o’clock, but she was going to use the gym, hoping that she might begin to feel better. It was such a privilege, having a gym on tap. In her last job she wasn’t allowed to use the hotel gym – it was for guests only, and she couldn’t afford expensive city gym membership prices, so she had joined a local running club. She wasn’t very good at it, but she enjoyed the feeling exercise gave her, so she looked forward to the weekly group, when her nan’s health allowed. She’d given it up for a while, but when her nan went into the home, she had started running more and more, and now she felt that she needed it – it seemed to help to keep her sane. It allowed her to breathe.

She was grateful not to bump into either Pippa or Freddie as she made her way down to the basement. Meadowbrook was a different world. Yesterday, she had been given a full tour of the house, and she’d been taken to the garden room, which hadn’t been used for years, because apparently it reminded Andrew Singer, their father, of his late wife. It had been her favourite room, and when she died he shut it away; it hadn’t even had the door opened until recently. Pippa said they sort of forgot about it, which seemed ridiculous.

Gemma couldn’t imagine living in a house where you had enough rooms that you could shut one off and not notice, but that was Meadowbrook. The garden room did what the name said, and opened out onto the garden, which would make it wonderful for the hotel. Although the siblings were nervous about it, Pippa said they realised that it was time to lay the last of the ghosts to rest – especially as they all hoped their mum and dad had been reunited wherever they were now. It was quite moving as they surveyed the room, which was at least as large in size as the drawing room.

Although at the moment it was dusty and full of old furniture, one of the walls was practically made up of floor-to-ceiling French windows currently covered with heavy velvet drapes. She realised it must have been so painful for Andrew Singer to shut off such an amazing room. It would take a lot of work, but she could see it being Freddie’s bar. In the day, guests could enjoy coffee, tea or light refreshments while enjoying the garden view, and in the evenings, it would be perfect for cocktails. In the summer, the doors could be opened, so that they could use the terrace for outside drinking and dining. Gemma began to get excited, as she could see it becoming a reality. Then the enormity of the task she had undertaken hit her once again, and she shrank back to uncertainty.

Trying to ignore the niggling doubts in her mind, she concentrated on the treadmill. She made a mental note when she went home for the weekend to pick up her swimming costume; the pool looked so inviting, perhaps she could add a daily swim to her routine. She knew she was already drawn into Meadowbrook, and she dreaded to think what would happen if she got fired after the probationary period.

She could only imagine what it was like growing up surrounded by this luxury, but at least the Singers were all trying to do something with Meadowbrook, which Gemma now understood. Because Pippa and Freddie were rattling around at home, and Meadowbrook felt as if it were a house that needed to be filled with people.

Yes, Gemma could see it being one of the most appealing hotels in the area. What with the beautiful house, set in the stunning grounds, you couldn’t fail to have a luxurious, relaxing, perhaps even romantic break here. She still wasn’t sure where the sanctuary would fit in with that, but she felt, instinctively, that somehow it would. Romance over the alpacas? She wished she felt confident enough to say what she thought sometimes; then she wouldn’t come across as so uptight. She wished she were more like Freddie, or any of them actually.

Gemma headed into the kitchen after finishing her run, having showered and dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a white blouse.

‘Oh hi, Gem,’ Pippa said.

‘I used the gym, I hope you don’t mind,’ Gemma mumbled.

Pippa looked so stylish in a plain black dress and tights with her hair pulled back from her beautiful face. She felt a stab of envy again. Where and at what point did life decide who would be pretty, rich and with a family who adored them? Or like her, unremarkable, worried about money, average in most ways and with parents who didn’t like her enough, let alone love her, even to stay in her life? How was that even fair? She tried to push her thoughts to the back of her dusty mind. What was wrong with her?

‘Of course not, you need to treat this place as if it’s your home, honestly.’

In theory, Pippa was someone to dislike for literally having it all, but there was nothing about her that you could remotely take offence against.

‘I’m so sorry about last night. I tried to warn Freddie I wasn’t a drinker but, well, I don’t think he realised how much I meant it.’ Gemma flushed.

‘Oh, don’t worry. Fred is a terror. He feeds everyone his lethal cocktails. We have reined him in a bit. He was off the rails at one point – ten times worse than now. I mean he does like a drink, it’s not a secret, but actually he can handle it now, and he can also go days without one. To be fair he doesn’t often, but he can. Anyway plying you with cocktails, it’s almost The Freddie Test.’

‘Then I well and truly failed. He seemed very disappointed.’

‘Oh don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine. Harriet’s going to meet you in Dad’s office in twenty minutes. She wants to explain everything; she doesn’t think I’ve given you a thorough background to us and to Meadowbrook. She’s probably right. I get so excited you see, I just get carried away.’

‘I understand,’ Gemma said carefully. ‘And I guess Harriet is rightly protective of all of you, as well as the house.’

‘Yes, that’s exactly it! I knew you’d understand. I knew instantly when I met you, but I also knew if I let Harriet get involved she’d try to take over. I knew that this hotel didn’t need a carbon copy of Harriet, which is exactly who she would hire; it needed someone like you.’

‘Well I’ll do my best for you,’ she replied, feeling the pressure being loaded on top of the layer of flattery. Yes, she could see that Harriet would have taken over, and she saw Pippa in a bit of a new light. She was ballsy to go ahead and hire Gemma without the others knowing. She wasn’t as meek as she sometimes came across.

‘Oh, and when you’ve finished with Harriet, I’m going to help you with your wardrobe. I feel awful that I didn’t tell you that you’d need more casual wear than suits, but we’re about the same size and I’ve got loads of spare clothes. I’ve also got scruffier things, which you’ll need when you get more involved.’

‘What do you mean?’ Gemma startled. Although, most of her clothes were tatty actually.

‘Ah, perhaps I should have explained this before, but you see we all have our jobs at the animal sanctuary and, actually, it would be really good if you’d join us and help out – we think it’ll give you more of a feel for the place.’

‘You mean I have to work with the animals?’ Gemma heard the horror in her voice and felt her heart sink.

Visiting the sanctuary had shown her how terrifying she found most of them. Surely they wouldn’t make her muck out the pigs, or deal with that scary-looking bull? Or even Madonna. And the hostile alpacas. This was not in the job description. Although thinking about it, not much was in the job description.

‘Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be fine. We all felt that way when Daddy said we had to in his will, but we all came to love working at the animal sanctuary and you will too.’

Pippa beamed and Gemma thought she must be mad. She would rather have a meeting with Harriet every day than do that.

Gemma sighed deeply, tried to remember her “calm” mantra and knocked on the office door.

‘Come in,’ a clear, well-spoken voice rang out.

Gemma said a silent prayer and pushed the door open. She stepped into the study, which still very much belonged to Andrew Singer. A huge mahogany desk dominated the room, with Harriet sat looking seriously terrifying behind it. There were some landscapes on the walls, very much in keeping with the rest of the house, a modern TV screen on another wall, and two leather sofas along with a drinks trolley, which looked pretty well stocked. The most dominating thing about the room, though, was a huge portrait of Andrew Singer. It was as if he were in the room with her.

‘Sit down.’ Harriet pointed at the sofa, facing the desk.

Gemma did as she was told and tried to look at Harriet rather than staring at the image of her father.

‘We haven’t changed a thing about our father’s study,’ she said, her voice softening as she spoke of him. ‘Apart from putting the painting of him in here. It was upstairs – Dad was a little vain you see – but it seems right here, in his study.’

‘I understand,’ Gemma said carefully. ‘I guess this is his personality right here too.’

‘Yes, yes it is. I know when we open this hotel, if we do—’ she narrowed her eyes at Gemma, who felt her cheeks flame ‘—then I suppose this will have to be changed, but it’s so hard to eliminate him.’

‘I don’t see why you’d have to. This room isn’t going to be used by guests, so as long as it’s a functional office, you can have it as you want it. You might need to reorganise if more than one person needs to work in here. It might be nice actually, make you feel that your father has a place in the hotel.’ Gemma hoped she hadn’t overstepped the mark.

‘I hadn’t thought of it like that. Yes, you’re right, I like that.’ Harriet almost smiled at her, and she sensed a little thawing. Gemma nodded. ‘Right, well I suppose that’s by the by. I wanted to speak to you because I doubt very much Pippa has given you the background.’ The thaw had frozen over again.

‘Perhaps only a potted history,’ Gemma admitted.

‘My sister is bright, beautiful and enthusiastic. She is committed to this project, more than any of us, but we have all decided to support her. Did she tell you about her divorce?’

‘A bit, yes,’ Gemma admitted.

‘It knocked Pippa’s confidence, so she needs this. She’s never been a career woman but now she wants to be, and I for one want to make sure that happens. And of course, none of us want to see the house empty, and apart from Pip and Fred, none of us want to live here. Did you hear about last year?’ Gemma shook her head, although she had. ‘Right, well you know our father, Andrew, died suddenly, and it was a terrible shock to us all.’

‘Yes and I’m sorry.’ Gemma thought she could see a tear glistening in Harriet’s eye. She liked the tiny human glimpses she got from her, but she wished there were more of them.

‘Right, well yes, but anyway, that was when I came back from New York. My father, who had, shall we say, eccentric ideas, made a will, which meant all four of us had to live here, in this house, for a year. And we had to keep the animal sanctuary open, which is his great love – was, I mean – or we would forfeit our inheritance.’

‘So you all lived together for a year?’ Gemma knew all this, but was interested to hear about it from Harriet’s perspective.

‘Yes, and of course we hadn’t lived together since childhood, so it was interesting to say the least. The year was tough for us all.’

‘In what way?’ Gemma asked, wanting to hear more.

‘Oh many ways. But that’s by the by. The upshot was that in the will, Dad stated that the house had to be kept in the family. So when Pip and Fred came up with the idea for opening the house as a hotel, Gus and I agreed, well eventually we did, because the house needs to be used and this seemed like a good way to ensure all the family could be involved.’

‘I agree, and it will very much be a family hotel,’ Gemma stated, trying to sound authoritative. She wanted to hear more about the year they’d spent together – it was intriguing – but Harriet was once more all business.

‘Quite, although none of us agree exactly how at the moment, which is why your job isn’t going to be easy. But enough of that. Right, well, I want to go through the details with you. The salary is fine. In fact, before Pippa hired you, I did the budget for set-up costs. I’ll give you a copy, and if you do a good job then you’ll be worth what we’re paying you.’

Gemma felt more than relieved. Not only was she getting a good salary, much more than she used to earn, but also she was living rent-free, so in theory she should be able to ensure her nan’s care was covered until the house sale went through. She almost wanted to hug Harriet, although she was far too scared to do so.

‘I hope to prove to you that I am the person for the job,’ Gemma said, her confidence increasing.

‘Well if you’re not, you’ll be out. Sorry to be blunt, but this is our home, it’s our passion, especially Pippa’s, but it’s also a business. Somehow we have to make money, or at least not lose any. You see, I have taken over the running of the animal sanctuary, which we are expanding, but I also look after my father’s investment portfolio. I’m not going to pretend that any of us are in danger of poverty, I can’t apologise for the fact that my father was awfully rich, but at the same time Meadowbrook is important for the animals, for the village, for the family and for our future generations, so I will do all I can to protect it. And besides, I like to succeed, so the hotel has to be a success.’ She laughed, but she was obviously far from joking, and Gemma’s new-found confidence fled as quickly as it arrived.

‘So your role in the hotel?’ Gemma asked, hoping her voice wasn’t as shaky as she felt.

‘Finances. I’ll look after the money, which is what I do best. Gus isn’t bad, but he prefers to look after the gardens, and he also paints, so I’m not sure how much use he’ll be.’

‘So, you’re happy for me to carry on, trying to figure out how best to go about opening the hotel, for now I mean?’ Gemma asked.

Harriet had shown her an almost human side. The way her features softened when she talked about her family was endearing. She was sure Harriet was ambitious and driven and even ruthless, but she seemed caring – she was hit with a wild notion they could be friends. But that was probably temporary insanity.

‘For now. But you see, we all have different ideas, which might be a problem. I see a luxury hotel for professionals wanting to get away from their day-to-day lives – I almost think a kind of corporate retreat. Freddie thinks it should be full of beautiful people who want to spend time watching him make cocktails and getting drunk. Pippa wants to help those who have had their hearts broken – I don’t know how on earth she thinks she’ll manage to target them, by the way, unless we become the anti-Tinder, and Gus wants it to be a creative place where guests can explore their artistic side.’

‘I see.’ She really didn’t.

‘Well you probably don’t.’ Harriet stared at Gemma, who felt exposed under her gaze. ‘And I’m not a tyrant, I do understand that this isn’t going to be easy for you and honestly, I do want to support you. But I’m hoping you’ll be able to see all that for yourself soon. I just want to reiterate: the house needs to maintain its personality. It also has to be beneficial for the village, Parker’s Hollow, and the community as a whole. My father’s memory needs keeping alive, and of course the animal sanctuary, the gardens, all have to be incorporated somehow.’

‘Goodness,’ Gemma started.

‘Oh yes, and Pippa has to feel as if she’s really achieved something. Fred as well to be honest.’

‘Wow.’ Gemma couldn’t help but stare at Harriet. She really did expect a lot. What she described wasn’t a hotel; it was a whole world.

‘Yes, wow, but if you’re as good as Pippa says you are then it shouldn’t be a problem, should it?’

‘Um, no. No, of course not.’ She shook her head.

‘Good, I’m glad we had this chat, and we’ve come to an understanding. Hopefully, we’ll be friends in no time.’

‘That would be lovely.’ Gemma was surprised that Harriet would want to be friends with someone like her, but she also felt her heart lift a bit. It might be possible, after all.

‘Right, what’s your favourite animal? After all, we want you to get started at the sanctuary for the full Meadowbrook experience. The alpacas are quite fun.’ Her lips twitched.

‘Really?’ Gemma’s eyes filled with horror.

‘No, not really, I’m teasing. The alpacas don’t like anyone much, although they seem keenest on Connor. Do you have a preference?’ Harriet spoke as if it were totally normal to be having this conversation.

‘The cats.’ She didn’t hesitate – after her tour, the cats were definitely the easiest and the least scary. She had never had a pet, not even a hamster. Her nan offered to buy her a goldfish once, but it hadn’t come to anything.

‘Great, I’ll put you on the feeding and petting roster. It’s very sad that our domestic animals are waiting for loving homes. Really, I wish we could re-home them all, but it’s a process, so we’re always looking for people to come in and spend time with them – they need affection and love, as well as food.’

Again, Harriet took Gemma by surprise, she sounded so heartfelt.

‘I’d be delighted.’ She was delighted, because it wasn’t the alpacas.

‘Right, so tonight we’re all having dinner here at the house – we try to have a family meal once a week at least – so you’ll meet Connor, Gwen and Gus properly. Unfortunately Amanda can’t make it, but you’ll meet her soon. Tomorrow, in fact. The gardening club are due, so it would be great to spend time with them and Gus, getting to know the gardens.’

‘It all sounds great.’

It did, Gemma thought, feeling a little cowed still, but she also felt a stirring of hope. Harriet was scary, she was confident, and she clearly knew what the purse strings needed to be doing, but at the same time, she seemed fair and reasonable. And if she needed to cuddle a few cats to keep her dream job then she would be happy to do so. She might feel a bit browbeaten and out of her depth, but she also would do anything to keep the job here at Meadowbrook and make it a success. She needed it. But more than that, she realised that she really, really wanted it.

‘This is fabulous, Gwen,’ Harriet said as they sat around the formal dining-room table. Gemma was overwhelmed by family mealtime at Meadowbrook. Her family meals consisted of herself and her nan and whatever was on special in the supermarket that day. Her nan wasn’t a bad cook, but she made traditional things, lots of mashed potatoes, vegetables and meat and nothing considered “foreign”. Tonight they were eating a pasta dish, which was made from scratch, even the pasta. Gwen always cooked the food for family night; she wouldn’t have it any other way. The sauce, which was tomato-based, was the nicest Gemma had ever tasted, and all the vegetables were grown at Meadowbrook. There was also home-made garlic bread, and a fresh salad – again from the Meadowbrook garden.

‘If you serve food like this, you’ll have people flocking to the hotel,’ Gemma said.

There was an easy chatter around the room. Everyone, even Harriet, was relaxed as she and Connor shared some affectionate looks and touches. Gemma still had her guard up, but sitting here, seeing how the family operated, she almost wanted to let her barriers down. Almost but not quite, hence why she tried to stick to comments only relating to the hotel.

‘Thank you, that’s what we’re hoping,’ Gwen said. ‘We thought it would be a feature that we serve as much food that we grow here as we can, and if we don’t grow it here, then we buy local products.’

‘What about meat?’ Gemma asked, noting there wasn’t any and nor had she had any since being here.

‘Well,’ Connor started, looking around the table, ‘we’re pretty much vegetarian, you know with the animal sanctuary and everything. Well I am anyway, as is Harry, but Pippa, Gus and Freddie eat some meat.’

‘Was your dad vegetarian?’

‘No, that was the irony of Andrew Singer: he rescued animals but he did eat them, well none from the sanctuary, of course, but from the local farm, and well, he justified it by not justifying it, really,’ Gwen explained. ‘Andrew made up his rules as he went along.’

‘Fred’s inherited that from him,’ Gus said.

Freddie scowled but didn’t argue.

‘When I got involved with the animals, I just couldn’t eat meat anymore. I have to admit, I do eat fish sometimes,’ Harriet added. ‘So I have put a ban on rescuing fish in the sanctuary.’ She laughed again.

‘I’m the same,’ Pippa said. ‘Actually, I’m trying to be vegan, but it’s not easy because I really like cheese.’

‘I’ve learnt how to cook more vegetarian food,’ Gwen said. ‘And I’m starting to look into vegan baking – we need to get ahead of the times, I always think. It’s becoming ever so fashionable, after all.’

‘You’re right, it is,’ Gemma said. Her nan wouldn’t have coped well with her being vegetarian. Especially as when she was a kid, they ate a lot of meat from tins, which thinking about it might not have actually been meat. ‘It could be a great angle for the hotel too.’ Her mind started whirring. ‘You know, a vegan hotel. I’ll do some research, but I’m sure they’re not very common.’

‘We don’t want to scare guests off, though,’ Harriet pointed out. ‘I think perhaps we should offer a fabulous vegan and vegetarian menu, but we should cater for the carnivores too.’

‘And it will create goodwill locally if we buy meat, like Dad did from the farmers,’ Gus pointed out. ‘My daughter Fleur’s a vegetarian and she called me a murderer the other day.’ Gus shook his head. ‘But then sometimes any excuse to attack me …’ He focused on his plate.

‘And I’m largely vegetarian, although I am partial to the occasional steak,’ Freddie offered.

‘So not really veggie at all, mate.’ Connor grinned. ‘More like a flexitarian.’

Connor was so lovely, Gemma thought, very different to Harriet, mainly because he wasn’t at all frightening. He was incredibly good-looking in a non-groomed, natural way, but he clearly only had eyes for Harriet, which actually made him even more appealing. He wasn’t quite Freddie-gorgeous, though, but then Gemma didn’t think anyone was.

‘OK, but we can definitely say we specialise in good, local, home-grown vegan food, it’ll be a good angle. I’ll put it down on my notes and do some research.’ Gemma continued to sound professional.

‘More wine, anyone?’ Freddie said, reaching for a new bottle and pouring it.

Gemma had barely touched hers, and she noticed him glare at her before moving on past her glass.

‘The wine is lovely,’ she said, trying to placate him.

‘How would you know, you’ve barely touched it?’ he pointed out.

‘I’ve had some and it’s delicious.’ She felt herself colour.

‘Never trust a woman who doesn’t drink – that’s my motto,’ Freddie said.

‘Don’t we know it,’ Harriet joked. ‘Although after your last girlfriend, you shouldn’t trust a woman who does drink, either.’

They all laughed, including Freddie.

‘Oi,’ Freddie objected. ‘But yes, you do have a point. Loretta drank like a bloody fish and was as untrustworthy as they come. Maybe I shall trust you after all, Gemma,’ he conceded.

She shook her head. This family was mad.

‘Well, I’d like to propose a toast,’ Pippa said, raising her glass. ‘Welcome to Gemma, and here’s to the Meadowbrook Hotel.’

Chapter 6

‘My God! It’s spectacular,’ Gemma breathed.

She was wearing a pair of Pippa’s skinny jeans, which she felt and looked good in, an oversized black jumper, wellington boots that were in the boot room and were Gemma’s size, and a stylish Barbour jacket. Gemma had been transformed into “country”. Even Freddie had done a double take as he passed her in the kitchen.

‘Thank you.’ Gus looked delighted. He had the family nose, like Freddie, and his hair, greying slightly, was the same colour as Harriet’s. Increasingly she saw similarities between the Singers – looks-wise. Personalities were an entirely different matter.

It was still intriguing how four children could be born into the same house, brought up largely the same way and yet be so different. As an only child, she would never have that experience. She often fantasised when she was younger about having a brother or sister. She would have loved to have someone, especially now, with her nan in such a bad way, but she didn’t, and she was cross with herself for dwelling on something that had never happened and never could.

Gus was taking her on a walk in Meadowbrook Manor’s “back garden”. Which, unlike any back garden she had ever seen, seemed to stretch for miles and was surrounded by perfectly trimmed hedges, all the same height.

‘Do you measure the hedges?’ she asked with a smile.

‘No, Gemma, but they are all pretty much the same height – our hedge guy is a perfectionist.’ He smiled.

The garden was dotted with beds full of different flowers and plants, leading to the award-winning rose garden, which was not in full bloom now but she couldn’t wait to see it when it was. There were a number of water features, which commanded attention, and a large fountain in the centre of the garden. At the very top, separated, were the vegetable gardens, fruit cages and a huge greenhouse. Gemma thought all it was missing was a maze. She wrote that down. But then, where would they put a maze and would they spend their time rescuing a drunk Freddie? She crossed it out.

Gus showed her the benches next, which were recently added so that visitors could sit and enjoy the gardens from every vantage point. He also explained why they had chosen various flowers. It was obviously a lot of work, but it was so worth it.

‘But wow, I mean I have never seen gardens this beautiful in real life. Only on TV,’ Gemma gushed.

She was struck, suddenly, by how much her nan would love to be here. This was the first part of her life that her nan wasn’t part of, that she couldn’t be part of, and whatever happened from here on in, it was just Gemma now. Oh, how she would have loved these gardens though.

‘What’s wrong?’ Gus asked, his voice full of concern.

‘Nothing, sorry.’ She tried to brush a tear off her cheek. What the hell was she doing? This was beyond unprofessional.

‘Gemma, are you crying?’ His voice, so full of warmth, set her off and before she could help it, she was properly crying.

‘No,’ she sobbed.

Gus led her to a bench, where he guided her to sit down.

‘Sorry,’ she said again.

‘Hey, I might be flattered that the gardens reduced you to tears, if they’re the right kind of tears, of course.’ He laughed.

‘Oh, but it is just the most beautiful garden I’ve ever seen. You see, my nan loved gardening. We had a good-sized garden, of course nothing like this …’ She gestured with her arm. She had told herself to hold back personally at Meadowbrook, but she had to explain her behaviour. ‘As I told Pippa, my nan is in a home, she’s got dementia, and I miss her.’

Gus gave her a brief but warm hug. ‘Hey, I miss my dad, you know. Especially out here, as he loved gardening too. I talk to him while I work. I know your nan’s not dead but, well, it must be terribly difficult.’

‘It is, but you know, life goes on as they say.’ Gemma tried a feeble attempt at a laugh, which sounded more like a gurgle.

‘Yes, but you’re human and that’s what Meadowbrook needs, so if you ever need to talk, I’m quite a good listener, as are the roses I always find.’ Gus grinned.

‘That’s kind of you to say.’ He was possibly the kindest man she’d ever met, although that perhaps wasn’t difficult.

‘I mean it, and you live here as well as work here, so I hope we will all be friends.’

‘Even Harriet?’ Gemma said, before quickly slapping her hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’ Gus laughed. ‘Yes, I have a feeling, even Harry.’

‘But anyway, back to the gardens. How on earth do you get them this amazing?’ Gemma shook her head; she needed to steer herself back onto more stable ground.

‘It takes a lot of work, more than I ever imagined when I started working on them. Dad, well he loved the gardens and put his heart into getting them into shape, and we feel that it’s a tribute to him to continue his work. My partner, Amanda, who you’ll meet soon, deserves most of the credit, as well as our wonderful gardening club. But to be honest, I’m not sure how it will fit in with our guests, which is one thing I wanted to talk to you about.’

‘What do you mean?’ Gemma detected some concern in Gus’s voice.

‘Well this hotel, we all have our doubts, apart from Pippa. But even Fred questions it sometimes. You see, who will want to stay here while there’s a bunch of old – by the way, don’t let them know I called them that – ladies in the gardens at least once a week, sometimes more. Our gardening club are very funny, they’re loud and well, perhaps not what you’d want if you’re looking for peace and quiet.’

‘I see.’

‘But at the same time they are crucial to our gardens and more than that, the gardens are important to them. It gets them out, it gives them so much, and we would never take that away from them.’

‘It’s going to be difficult to characterise this hotel, isn’t it?’

Gus had a point. If you’re paying a large sum of money to stay in a boutique hotel in the country, did you want squealing old ladies wielding trowels? Oh, goodness, how on earth was she going to pull this off?

‘The thing is …’ Gus said, showing her to a beautifully ornate garden bench and gesturing her to sit, ‘Meadowbrook is our father. But now we’re all trying to put our stamp on it too. Harriet loves the house and wants it to be successful – in Harry’s mind, being successful means making money. She’s not greedy, but still the hotel needs to be profitable because she doesn’t do anything that isn’t. Fred, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, wants a party hotel. He used to organise parties and club nights for a living, and was very successful for a while, although of course he drank most of his profits. And although he’s calmed down a lot, well a bit …’ Gus paused to scratch his head ‘… he wants the house to be full of fun. Pippa wants it to be a place to heal people, which as it’s not a hospital or rehab, we’re all a bit sceptical about. I know what she means, this place does make you better, it made us all better, and it’s a very special house for that, but as I said, you can’t suddenly open a hotel for broken hearts – everyone would think you were mad.’

‘Of course they would.’ Gemma smiled. ‘And you?’

‘I want Meadowbrook to be full of creativity. I worked in insurance before my father died – can you believe that?’ Gemma shook her head, although she knew this already. ‘Well, I did, and I was boring, miserable and grey. I looked grey, I thought grey, but then I started working on these gardens, and I felt something I hadn’t since childhood. I also started painting again – I loved art as a child and wasn’t bad at it, but Dad didn’t approve – that’s another story. So anyway, I kind of want to offer people the chance to garden, paint, bake with Gwen even, work with the animals, get the whole Meadowbrook experience. But then of course that’s not an easy thing to put into a package, is it?’

‘No, it really isn’t.’ Gemma felt her heart sinking. After conversations with each of the Singers she was feeling increasingly confused, baffled and totally at sea about what the hotel model could actually be.

‘Right, well you’ve got your work cut out for you. Oh look, there’s Amanda and the ladies – come on and I’ll introduce you.’

Gemma was crying again, but this time with laughter. The gardening club were the best bunch of women she had ever met, and they also sort of reminded her of her nan, before she got ill. Edie was immediately her favourite, as she took her to show her how she cultivated the amazing roses.

‘I’ve managed to grow some from scratch, and also some hybrids. See, I think of this one as the Singer rose.’ She showed Gemma a peach-and-red coloured rose, which was just starting to bud.

‘I am impressed, Edie,’ Gemma said. ‘This is incredible.’

‘Well I have loved these gardens for years, and I put my heart into it. It’s a real treat for me to get to work on them as well. I mean, who normally gets the chance? Andrew Singer let us all share these gardens, God bless his soul, and I’ll always love him for that. Oh, and I had a hip replacement last year too. I’m like a new person now!’ Edie gave a jump to demonstrate her fitness, then she grabbed hold of Gemma as she landed, almost taking them both down.

‘One day, do you think you’ll show me how to look after the roses?’

‘Of course I will, love, but now come on, meet the others.’

Gemma tried to remember names – she didn’t want to write them down as that seemed rude – but she started forgetting after she was introduced to Margaret, Rose and Dawn. There were ten of them altogether, including Edie, and each was as welcoming as Edie had been. She managed to enjoy hugs and excitement as the women vied with each other to show Gemma their part of the garden. And Gemma lapped them all up.

Amanda, an attractive woman with long red hair, tied back, wearing overalls, which she somehow managed to look good in, stood back and let the women enjoy their time, boasting about their work to someone new. Pride radiated from each and every one of them, and Gemma could see how magic Meadowbrook was yet again. These women largely lived alone in small homes and some lived in a retirement complex in the village. In Meadowbrook’s garden, they were given a new lease of life, and they worked hard in return. She also discovered many of them got involved in the Meadowbrook events. She could feel the community spirit radiating from everyone around her, and it made it feel as if Meadowbrook were wrapping around them all like a blanket. She tried not to blink back tears. This felt like family; she missed her nan more than she ever thought possible.

‘Hi,’ a voice said.

Gemma turned, hoping her eyes weren’t too misty, and found herself looking at Amanda.

‘I didn’t want to interrupt the ladies, but now they’ve turned their attention to tea and biscuits, I can say hello properly.’

She was attractive, her face a little weathered, which made sense as she worked outside. Although Gemma didn’t know Gus well yet, she could already see them as a good fit.

‘It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you. And the wonderful job you do with the gardens,’ Gemma said, tears fully pushed back.

‘We’re all lucky to have this to work with …’ Amanda gestured around. ‘Anyway, welcome to Meadowbrook. As someone else outside the family, see me as an ally. They are all wonderful, of course I’m biased with Gus, but they are just so passionately wrapped up in life here, in the memory of their father, that they can seem a little …’

‘Tricky?’ Gemma offered.

‘Good way to describe them. Anyway, just so you know, if you ever need to chat, just give me a shout.’

‘That’s really nice of you.’ Gemma felt shy, a bit like being the new girl at school.

‘Not at all. Have they got you working at the animal shelter?’

‘I’m starting after the weekend – cats.’

‘Oh, good call. We have Fleur’s two kittens living with us now. They were here, but since Gus moved in with me and Fleur stays every weekend, it made sense. They’re pretty naughty though; although my daughter, Hayley, loves them too.’

‘It seems you’ve got a lovely family,’ Gemma said.

‘It’s been a lot of work but yes, we are all figuring it out. The girls get on really well, although Fleur is a bit older, fourteen, which can be a difficult age. Gus is wonderful and I couldn’t be luckier to have him.’

‘It sounds great.’

Gemma didn’t know what it felt like to love someone so much that your eyes actually lit up when you talked about them. She certainly didn’t feel that with Chris, did she? Her nan, yes, but then that was different. Chris, well, she wasn’t sure how she had let him dominate her for so long. And even then, he was the one who ended the relationship. She never saw it, did she? Now she was beginning to. She was learning that men weren’t all like Chris, who cared only about himself and treated Gemma like she was his own shabby doormat. Oh God, it was dawning on her more and more what a fool she had been.

‘Oh, there’s a downside, Gus’s ex-wife is a total bitch. She ran off with his friend, yet she continues to try to make his life hell. And poor Fleur, now she’s older, is caught in the middle. I can’t really say too much as it upsets him, but I don’t think his ex liked it when he inherited from his father, and she doesn’t like him being with me. But most of all, she hates that Fleur seems to prefer to spend her time over here at the moment. So, you know, nothing’s perfect.’

‘Meadowbrook seems as near to it as you can get, though,’ Gemma breathed.

‘Yes, yes, it really is. Come on, let’s go and get tea and you’ll hear all the village gossip.’

Amanda gave her arm a squeeze and led the way, and Gemma was more than happy to follow.

Chapter 7

Gemma sat cross-legged on her bed with her books and notes spread out in front of her. She had been at Meadowbrook just under a week, but she was already fretting that her focus wasn’t what it should be. Not least because she was going home tomorrow. She had toyed with the idea of splashing money she barely had on a second-hand car, but when she broached the subject with Pippa, she insisted that she borrow her car. Pippa said to think of it like a company car, yet another perk of the job.

She had to go to the bungalow, where she was reluctantly going to stay until Sunday evening to start sorting through some of her nan’s belongings. The process from her nan going into the home to her putting the bungalow on the market and now it being under offer seemed to have taken ages, but with the sale going through, she needed to be on top of it all.

Gemma wasn’t looking forward to going back. It was as if she had slightly lost herself in her new life, during the past few days at Meadowbrook, and now she was going to be reminded of her reality.

She was also cross about the way she was conducting herself. The way she was with Gus, showing him her vulnerable side. And Amanda had been so open and lovely that Gemma had told her more than she intended to. Nothing bad, just about her nan, but that was personal, and she was trying to be purely professional. She was terrified of being too open, of crossing the line, and in order to keep the lines clear she had to hold herself back. If she started letting them see her, too much of her, who knew where it would end? She couldn’t take that risk, although already she feared she was.

She was here to do a job, not make friends, but with Pippa’s insistence on them becoming “great pals”, Freddie’s attempts to loosen her up, and her fondness for Amanda and Gus, it was already proving difficult. Even Harriet seemed to be blurring the lines, by asking her questions about herself that Gemma didn’t really want to answer. Nothing awful, just about her upbringing and her schooling, friends, that sort of thing. But although to most people that would seem normal, Gemma wanted to keep all that to herself. She needed to keep her professional head on; she needed to keep her barriers up. She couldn’t afford to forget why she was here.

She was reading about hotel management, hoping her text books, whilst factual, would help her to put some of the nuts and bolts in place, when there was a knock at the door. She scooped the books up and shoved them under the bed.

‘Come in,’ she trilled.

The door opened and Pippa appeared. As usual, she looked effortlessly gorgeous, even in jogging bottoms and a sweatshirt, and she always seemed to be smiling. Although she had been warned that Pippa had a temper, and could be stubborn, Gemma had never seen any evidence of this. She hoped she never would.

‘We missed you at dinner tonight,’ Pippa said, striding into the room and sitting cross-legged on Gemma’s bed.

Earlier, Gemma told Freddie – or rather mumbled to him – that she wouldn’t make dinner as she had work to catch up on and she’d grab a sandwich later. The reality was that she couldn’t face it. She was feeling emotional, so it felt safer to be alone. And she was used to being on her own every evening, since her nan had gone into the home, so being with people, anyone, was taking some getting used to. She knew she was too hard on herself. She expected to know what to do, how to handle the family, but she didn’t and that frightened her.

‘Sorry, but I really wanted to get stuck into work as I’m off for the weekend.’

‘We’re going to make such a winning team, I just know it.’ Pippa looked at Gemma expectantly.

‘Oh yes,’ Gemma said, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. ‘I totally agree.’

‘And we’re going to be the best of friends,’ Pippa continued, grabbing one of the pillows and hugging it to her chest. ‘I mean, I haven’t had a proper girlfriend for years. Mark, my ex-husband, didn’t like me having friends, so I lost touch with all of them, and then I did get back in touch with one, Bella, but she went out with Connor. And he broke up with her because he was in love with Harriet, and she was so upset she couldn’t see me anymore, so I lost her. And of course I have Harry, I suppose, but she’s my bossy older sister, so you can be my first post-divorce, real non-family friend.’

Gemma was a little taken aback, although she had come to expect these outbursts from Pippa, which could sometimes be hard to follow.

‘Well, of course, but you are also my boss,’ she pointed out. Arm’s-length, she warned herself.

‘I hate to think of myself like that, as a boss. I’d rather think we’re partners, and in the spirit of partners we can of course be friends. I really enjoy our chats, don’t you?’

‘Um, yes.’ They were a bit one-sided though, Gemma thought wryly.

‘And I am so glad that I divorced Mark. It’s taken a while, but I am so much happier now. I didn’t realise how unhappy I was until it was over, and I’ve got Harriet to thank for it really, although we almost fell out over it. We did fall out for a while, actually. The thing is, Mark wanted to get his hands on Daddy’s money, and he was plotting with Freddie’s ex-girlfriend.’ A sad look passed over Pippa’s face, and her eyes filled with tears.

‘My God, that’s terrible.’ Gemma instinctively reached out to give Pippa’s arm a squeeze. And poor Freddie – he didn’t come across as the sort who would let anyone mess him around, but then it just went to show …

‘He was controlling and pompous, and he put me down a lot actually.’ Pippa had tears in her eyes.

‘Pippa, my ex-boyfriend was a bit similar,’ Gemma said without thinking. ‘I mean, he put me down all the time. Chris liked to tell me what to do. In the end he finished with me, because he thought that we’d move into my nan’s house when she went into the home. When I told him I had to sell it to pay the fees, he dumped me.’

OK, so much for arm’s-length, but she found she couldn’t help herself. She was not only angry, but also feeling something akin to relief. She’d never told anyone about Chris, apart from her nan, but her nan hadn’t seemed to understand.

‘Oh my God, I knew we had so much in common. Although, of course, you didn’t have Harry to save you. You see, Harriet found out about the plotting, but Fred and I refused to believe her, which caused a rift between us. Poor Gus was stuck in the middle. It all worked out in the end, though. Gwen videoed them together and proved it to us, but it was a pretty horrible time, I can tell you.’

‘It must have been. Imagine losing your father then having your husband turn on you too,’ Gemma said, feeling bad for Pippa, Freddie and herself. ‘I do understand. I lost my nan and then Chris – well, not exactly the same but similar.’

Gemma felt tears pricking her eyes as she looked at Pippa. She had felt so browbeaten, so hurt, so many things. It felt that only now, at Meadowbrook, was she beginning to process them.

‘It’s so weird how similar, really! And poor Fred was upset too. Well, actually, his ego was bruised mainly. He didn’t love Loretta, that’s his ex, as much as I thought I loved Mark, but actually I let Mark control me for so long I didn’t know myself anymore.’

Gemma nodded. God, it sounded so much like Chris, but without the big house, the inheritance or the brother.

‘Thank you for being so understanding. I guess I’ll let you get on.’

Pippa looked as if she would like an invitation to stay, but Gemma suddenly felt exhausted and needed to sleep.

‘I really need to pack. I know I’m only off for the weekend, but I need to make sure I have the essentials.’ She tried to sound light-hearted. ‘And thanks again for lending me the car.’

‘Well, we’ll see you for dinner Sunday evening? We usually all go to the local pub, so I hope you’ll join us. About seven?’

‘I’ll be back before then, so that will be lovely.’

Gemma knew better than to try to get out of it – it seemed that being with the family was part of the job description. It really was a wonderful job, good pay, great living conditions, but it was also the strangest job she’d ever had, and one she really didn’t know if she understood. No, she definitely didn’t understand.

After Pippa finally left her room, Gemma started to pack. She threw some of her clothes into a holdall; she didn’t worry about looking good back home, so she took her old clothes rather than the nice ones Pippa had lent her.

She thought that when she got her first paycheque she might go and treat herself to some new clothes. Having worn those that Pippa had passed to her, she was beginning to enjoy looking better than she usually did. Surely, it was better late than never? She was twenty-eight, not twelve, but so what? She did feel a bit of a new lease of life coursing through her veins. Was that the Meadowbrook effect?

She left early and the house was quiet. She walked quietly to the front door, where a bunch of flowers caught her eye. They were just the sort her nan loved, wild garden flowers, and there was a note attached. She picked it up.

Gemma, Amanda and I remembered you saying your nan loved her garden flowers, so we picked these for her. I do hope she likes them.

Love,

Gus and Amanda

Bloody hell, she thought as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She felt as if she were being drowned in kindness, and she didn’t quite know how to handle this alien feeling.

Driving Pippa’s shiny Mini Countryman was also a new experience, she thought as she pulled herself together. If she didn’t stop being so emotional then Harriet would definitely fire her. She was pretty sure of that. She felt a rush of freedom as she drove away from Meadowbrook and also some relief, as she didn’t have to worry about what she did or said for a while. She programmed the sat nav as she wasn’t sure of the best way to get home and as it’d been a while since she’d driven, she felt nervous as she negotiated the traffic.

When she told Pippa she was going home for the weekend, Pippa made it clear that she was more than welcome to stay at Meadowbrook at the weekends. In fact, she said she’d rather have her there as the house felt less empty. And Gemma would be grateful not to go back to the bungalow. It reminded her too much of the past. It had been her home, but now it belonged to no one. Her nan was never coming back to live there, and although she used to wonder if her mum would come back and find her, she never had. She used to worry that if they moved or even went on holiday – which was a week in a caravan every summer – her parents wouldn’t know how to find her.

But of course she finally had to accept that they never had and never would. Who knew if they were even still alive? Gemma often wondered what happened to them. Had her dad met someone else and got a new family? Likely. Had her mum recovered from what her nan referred to as her “troubles” and also gone on to find happiness? Probably. Did they ever think about Gemma? Doubtful.

When Gemma told her the whole story, one of her college friends Jane had suggested that they try to find out what happened to them, using the Internet, but after initial attempts hadn’t yielded any results, Gemma got cold feet. She suddenly realised that having been rejected when she was a child was bad enough. She wasn’t sure if she could cope with being rejected again.

Over the years, she had also asked her nan if she knew, but her nan was as much at a loss as she was, or so she said, and Gemma had never had any reason to doubt her. She said that her father had panicked, he was young and he felt trapped, so he fled just after she was born. Her mother, Sandie, nan’s daughter, had to be a mum to Gemma, apparently, but she was sad all the time and one day she left too, when Gemma was only four. She hadn’t been in touch since. Her nan was upset about it, she missed her only child, and was happy to talk to Gemma about her, but as far as she knew, she’d never tried to find her, either.

It was funny, well not funny but strange – when Pippa talked to Gemma about growing up without a mum, Gemma wanted to relate to her. But she held herself back, because she also spoke about her wonderful father, with a love and respect that sparkled in her eyes, and Gemma couldn’t understand that at all.

She’d been away less than a week, but the bungalow felt cold and unlived-in as she walked through the front door. She flicked on all the hall lights and made her way to the kitchen. She sighed as she looked at it through fresh eyes. There was such a stark contrast with Meadowbrook. She was angry with herself for thinking that; she might not have grown up with the luxury of Meadowbrook, but she was always comfortable and fed, and she never thought of the bungalow as lacking until now. She was a grown-up; she had always been grateful for what she had, and she needed to remember that. This was her home, and she had been lucky to grow up here with love and warmth.

However, this would be someone else’s home soon and she wouldn’t belong anywhere. Trying to stave off self-pity, she went through the mail, putting the bills in one pile to deal with and junk mail straight in the recycling. There was nothing personal, except an envelope from her last employer with her final payslip – it was higher than she’d expected as she hadn’t taken all her holiday, but it still wasn’t anything near what she was earning at Meadowbrook.

She made herself a cup of tea, glad she had stopped at the petrol station to get some milk, and studied the kitchen, making mental notes as she waited for the kettle to boil. She decided she would keep the appliances for now, because she wasn’t yet sure how often she would be coming back, but she could pack any personal items she wanted to keep and then the rest would go to charity, or be thrown away. She set to work and for a while, lost in the task at hand, she forgot to think about anything. She blanked all feelings of sadness, of worry, of loneliness out of her mind as she put things in boxes and tried to think about nothing.

After making progress in the kitchen and living room, she headed upstairs. She stopped briefly by her nan’s bedroom. The door was ajar and the emptiness of it winded her. The bed stripped, the bedside table devoid of its usual glass of water, reading glasses and book. Even the wardrobe and the chest of drawers were empty. Gemma had packed her nan off with as much as was familiar that she could fit into her new room at the home. The rest she had taken to the local charity shop – there was no point in having it hanging around. But it made her feel empty; there was no sign of her nan in her room anymore.

She hurried to the bathroom, where all that remained was an old bar of soap. Sighing, she made her way to the spare room, which had been her mum’s room when her father left and her mum came back here to live with Gemma. But there were no traces of her now. The walls were an old cream, the curtains red, and the small queen-size bed was devoid of bedding. It had been a dumping ground for ages, and there were piles of boxes and bags that Gemma would have to go through at some point; but she couldn’t face it yet.

Her room was the last room. The smallest room in the house. At one point, when she was about eleven or twelve and it was clear her mum wasn’t coming back, her nan tentatively suggested she move into the bigger room and Gemma could decorate it as she liked as her birthday present. But Gemma couldn’t bring herself to do so. It was as if she still believed her mum would come home one day, so she had stayed in her small boxroom with the single bed. It was a nice room though – it faced the back garden and was light. She had painted it a pale blue colour, duck egg it was called, and she had a white wardrobe and bedside table that she’d got from IKEA. Before Meadowbrook, Gemma thought it was all she needed, but now, well, now she wasn’t quite so sure.

She had never been ambitious – she was too afraid to be so. She knew that she needed hours of counselling to unravel her feelings, but she was too scared to take chances. She just wanted to be safe. Her nan made her feel safe, or as safe as she could feel having been abandoned by her parents. This bungalow made her feel safe. Doing her hotel course was the biggest move she had made, but then she’d had to give it up to look after her nan, so she almost felt she was being punished for having tried to change things. And even working in a job she hated was what she thought she needed, deserved. But now her nan was gone, she didn’t have the safety net anymore, which is why she had taken the huge risk of the job at Meadowbrook. And yes, it was wonderful, but it was also more terrifying than she ever imagined.

She lay on the bed, trying to contain her fears, trying to hear her nan’s voice tell her that she could do this, and the tears that came were welcome, because she needed to feel something, even if it was sadness.

Gemma slept fitfully in her small bed, mainly because she had got used, in such a short time, to Harriet’s king-size bed, and she woke herself up a number of times by almost falling out. She put the hot water on, made a cup of tea and then when she was confident the water would be hot enough, took a wash in the over-the-bath shower. She felt as if she were betraying her nan somehow by comparing everything to Meadowbrook, but she couldn’t help it.

The thought hit her: what if this didn’t work out? What if after the month they asked her to leave? Then she would have to get another job, and she knew any job she got wouldn’t pay anything near what the Singers were paying her. She might be able to rent a small bedsit and all luxury of Meadowbrook would be forgotten. Even the comfort and space of the bungalow would be out of reach. The idea was absolutely horrifying.

She needed to make a success of this – her future, and her nan’s immediate future, depended on it. And that was why she had never taken risks before. They were bloody, bloody terrifying.

Pushing her fears firmly away, she got dressed and left the house. She drove the twenty minutes to Kenworth House, for her weekly visit, basking for once in a warm car rather than the usual bus and the walk.

As she made her way up the tree-lined drive to the Victorian building, she marvelled, again, at how you would never know on appearance that this was full of old people. The grounds were well kept, the house itself impressive. A little smaller than Meadowbrook and filled with lost lives, which is how she thought of it. Most of its residents had problems remembering who they were, or who their loved ones were. It was so incredibly sad for everyone concerned. Gemma had researched as much about dementia as she could, and her only conclusion was that it was cruel. Horrible and cruel.

Gemma waited for the door to be opened, then she chatted with staff who were now familiar, checking that all was OK, or as all right as it ever would be. As she made her way to her nan’s room, she was comforted in the fact that she knew she was well looked after. Although it was expensive, the fact that her nan’s bungalow was in a good location and had bags of potential meant that they’d been offered the asking price, and she would be able to stay here at Kenworth for years if necessary.

Gemma didn’t want to think about her nan dying, because when she did, she would be all alone.

She held her bony hand as her nan sat on the high-backed chair, which had been positioned so she could look out of the window. Gemma sat next to her, gazing at the trees and the grounds through the rain-splattered windows. The wild flowers had been arranged on the table in front of them, and they looked far more beautiful than Gemma’s normal offerings, sparking a smile in her nan, which was priceless.

‘The job’s interesting,’ Gemma said.

Filling her nan in on the Meadowbrook saga was cathartic. Speaking aloud, voicing her fears and hopes, seemed to be helping her more than getting tangled in her own thoughts. And although her nan was largely unresponsive – almost completely today – she felt as if she were being listened to. And, at least they were together.

‘The family are so kind to me, Nan, but I wished I felt that I deserved it. I know you always told me I did, but well, you are the only person who ever knew me properly, and I always struggled to believe in myself, didn’t I?’ Tears glistened in her eyes and she wanted to keep them in check.

Suddenly, and without warning, her nan grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She didn’t speak, but the intensity in her eyes did, and Gemma felt safe again. It was brief but it was there.

Sarah put her head round the door and said it was time for her nan to go to the communal room for the afternoon’s entertainments. Her nan responded to Sarah more than she had Gemma, by giving her a smile and a nod, which cut to the quick, although she knew she wasn’t supposed to take it so personally. Gemma reluctantly stood. She bent down and kissed her nan’s leathery cheek.

‘I love you, and I’ll make you proud of me, you’ll see,’ she said, feeling her emotions on the verge of failing her.

‘Oh, love, I’m already proud of you.’

Her nan’s voice took her by surprise. For a minute she wondered if she’d imagined it, as she looked at her nan to see the same unreadable expression on her face.

Gemma kissed her cheek again, leant down to hug her, breathing in the smell of her perfume – lavender – and enjoying the warmth of her frail body. Then Gemma left the home, walking into the cold air, basking in the warmth of those words as if it were a beautiful summer’s day.

Chapter 8

Gemma pulled off the wellington boots she was becoming accustomed to and adjusted the socks that nearly came off with them. She let herself in the back door, having taken a hike up to the lake to clear her head. She’d been here for almost three weeks, and although it was still overwhelming, the place was becoming familiar. As was the family. In very different ways.

Pippa was still on a mission to make Gemma her best friend. They were spending practically all their evenings together, and Pippa was undoubtedly lovely: warm, open, friendly and interested. She told Gemma all about their upbringing at Meadowbrook, the tragedy of losing their mother when Pippa was barely a toddler, how Harriet had stepped up to the role of matriarch of the family, and how awful it had been when she had to go to boarding school. Gemma had been filled in on the history of the Singers, and it gave her a clearer picture of who she was working with; although she wasn’t sure that Harriet would be pleased at quite how much Pippa was sharing with her.

At the same time, Gemma still wasn’t as forthcoming in return. She chose carefully what she said to Pippa – it was necessary to hold part of herself back for so many reasons. She was honest, though, as she talked her about her nan’s dementia, about Chris and also, without meaning to, she’d said a bit about her parents leaving her. Pippa liked to ask about Chris, in the way that it bonded them with his similarities to Mark. Gemma couldn’t help but be more open than she had ever intended, and she enjoyed Pippa’s friendship in a way she never had with anyone else.

Her relationships with the rest of the Singers varied from person to person. Gus was her favourite after Pippa, but then he was the least demanding on her time. As well as the gardens and his paintings, he had Amanda and the two girls to keep him busy, so he left the details of the running of Meadowbrook largely to the others. But Gus was funnier than he appeared, and he was easy to be around. When she thanked him and Amanda for the flowers, they brushed it off as if it were nothing, rather than one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for her.

Gemma saw him at the animal sanctuary and, of course, in the gardens with Amanda, where they always tried to involve her. Increasingly, Gemma was beginning to appreciate the gardens as a way to make her feel relaxed, so she was trying to get more involved, letting them teach her a little about plants and flowers.

In the sanctuary, Gus liked to work with the pigs, and he explained how fond he was of them as he introduced her to them. They had five pigs now: Napoleon, Cleopatra, Geoffrey and Bubble and Squeak. They were enormous and Gemma found them quite intimidating; four were from homes where they were supposed to be domestic micropigs who turned out to be fully grown. How could so many people be duped like that? Probably served them right for trying to be fashionable with their pets; although, of course, it was the animals who suffered in the long run.

Not that the Meadowbrook pigs exactly suffered. They had lots of room, a lovely shelter, plenty to eat – as Gus explained, it was all organic, which meant they probably ate better than she did. They were very content and well looked after, so at least they had happy endings, even if they were anything but micro. The final pig, Gus had told her, was his favourite – although out of earshot of the others; apparently, pigs were sensitive. This was Geoffrey, a pig who was used for breeding and had been retired to Meadowbrook. According to Gus, Geoffrey was the warmest, most loving pig he had ever met. Gemma didn’t get too close; she just took his word for it. But Geoffrey did seem to be enjoying his new retirement home.

She was getting used to being with the cats, and was happy to feed them, pet them, talk to them and get to know them. Connor had introduced her to each of them, showing how caring he really was, as they patiently went to each one, making sure they spent time petting them all.

There were fifteen cats at the moment, and an old man called Albert was her favourite. He wasn’t the friendliest – in fact, he hissed at her quite a bit – but he was a big tabby who looked as if he had a permanent scowl. For some reason, Gemma was spending her time trying to win him over. She felt as if he needed a friend, even if he didn’t know it. She also had a ridiculous notion that if she could win him over, she might be able to do the same with Harriet.

She realised that at Meadowbrook they were all a little potty about the animals – they all had names, personalities and were talked about as if they were people – but she also found that she was quickly doing the same. Albert, her grumpy old man, was now one of her favourite things about the place.

Harriet was perfectly polite to her, but she definitely hadn’t thawed totally, and still treated her with suspicion. Harriet asked a lot of questions and although Pippa did the same, Gemma always felt Harriet wanted to trip her up. She knew she might be paranoid, but it was just how she felt.

And Freddie clearly thought she was an idiot. It didn’t help that she turned into a klutz around him, always banging into things, or stammering, unable to get her words out. It wasn’t the image she wanted to project, but she found him so intimidating, in a different way to Harriet. She was getting used to drinking more now, although it still wasn’t enough to impress Freddie. The problem was that she wished she could be more like him, and deep down she knew she also wished that he liked her a bit more.

The house was eerily quiet as she made her way into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She did so and then went to take it upstairs. She wondered if anyone was home. Meadowbrook felt wrong when it was empty – too big, too quiet – and she could see that the house needed filling with people. She understood more why they thought a boutique hotel would be perfect.

She heard voices coming from the study and although she knew she shouldn’t, she paused. Hoping that whoever was in there wouldn’t suddenly come out, she put her ear to the door.

She heard Freddie’s voice. ‘Look, Harry, she might come home anytime, so perhaps we shouldn’t be talking about her here.’

‘We’re not doing anything wrong,’ Harriet countered. ‘I’m just saying that she’s been here for a few weeks, and I’m not sure what she’s done in that time.’

Gemma felt her heart sink into her thick woollen socks.

‘Well I think she’s done loads,’ Pippa said loyally. ‘She’s getting a real feel for the place, and she’s great with the cats.’

‘That’s all well and good, Pip, but she’s meant to be helping us come up with a model for the hotel, and as far as I can see she barely even mentions it,’ Harriet continued.

‘I’m not sure that’s fair, Harry. I think she’s getting a feel for the place,’ Gus mumbled. ‘She is interested in the gardens, and as Pippa said, the sanctuary. I think you’re being a little harsh, Harry.’

‘And she hasn’t even tried to talk to me about the cocktail bar,’ Freddie huffed.

‘But—’ Pippa started.

‘No, Pip, I know you think she’s your friend, but she is here to do a job. Right, my proposal is that her month’s trial is up end of next week, so we ask her to present her ideas to us in a professional way. We need something concrete, so if they’ve got substance, if she’s got substance, we’ll know then.’

‘But that’s so not fair,’ Pippa argued.

‘Why not?’ Freddie asked.

‘Because I really like her,’ Pippa said weakly.

‘You really liked your husband and look where that got you,’ Freddie pointed out.

‘Fred, that’s unnecessary,’ Gus said.

‘Sorry,’ Freddie mumbled.

‘Anyway, I didn’t like him that much.’

Everyone laughed.

Once again, Gemma marvelled at their relationship. They bickered, yes, but they were so close, and they loved each other. They were all so different but they supported each other. And Gemma was reminded, starkly, that she was an outsider. Literally, as she couldn’t pull herself away from the door.

‘So we’re agreed then,’ Harriet said.

‘Not exactly,’ Pippa huffed.

‘Look, Pip, I hope she works out, I really do, and I’m glad you two get on so well, I’m just saying that perhaps if we get her to do a presentation for us, then we’ll have a clearer idea about her proposals for Meadowbrook and if she even has any. I’m not doing this to be horrible, but it is business at the end of the day.’ Harriet sounded kinder.

‘We are paying her a decent salary, after all,’ Gus concurred.

Gemma liked him a little bit less.

‘Yes, and if we’re ever going to open this hotel, we need to get plans underway,’ Freddie stated. ‘Sooner rather than later.’

Gemma balked – it wasn’t as if he seemed to do any work, after all.

‘Well, I suppose asking her to present her ideas isn’t too bad. After all, I am confident she has loads of them,’ Pippa conceded. ‘But let me tell her. You guys – well not you, Gus – but you two will probably scare her off if you do it.’

Gemma scurried away before she got caught.

Her heart pounded as she shut the door. She had known she wouldn’t be able to pull it off. But then she had to – she had no choice. They were going to ask her to present her ideas. She didn’t have any, well she did, but she didn’t have anything like a clear plan yet. She’d have to get one done and quickly.

She propped herself up on the bed, the bed that might not be hers for much longer, and sipped her cold tea. Then she pulled her books out from under the bed and opened one entitled A Practical Guide to Opening a Hotel, and began to read.

Chapter 9

‘Ow, Fred, you kicked me,’ Pippa shouted.

Freddie glared from across the table. Gemma let herself glance, briefly, at him. She had a good idea of what was coming but, of course, she kept quiet. They were having breakfast, and Gemma couldn’t shake the conversations she’d overheard yesterday. This always happened to her, didn’t it? No one thought she was ever good enough. Gemma tried to breathe – drowning in self-pity doesn’t do anyone any good, she heard her nan’s voice saying.

‘Sorry,’ Freddie mumbled, ‘it was an accident.’

‘Gemma, the thing is that Harry and the others, well me too, of course, but not me as much as the others—’

‘Pip, spit it out,’ Freddie interrupted.

‘Sorry.’ Poor Pippa looked both uncomfortable and distraught. ‘The thing is that well, of course, you have your month’s trial, which I didn’t want, but anyway, we were wondering if you’d be able to give us a presentation at the end of it, so we can all sort of see where we are with the hotel planning so far.’ Pippa looked down, unable to meet Gemma’s gaze.

For selfish reasons, Gemma might not be thrilled about it, but of course they were perfectly within their rights, actually sensible, to do this. She just needed to pull the presentation off in order to keep her job. And at the moment, she was still pretty unsure if she could.

‘Of course, I was going to do that anyway,’ Gemma fibbed. ‘At the moment, I have so many ideas that they all need putting in some kind of order, which was my next step, so no problem.’ She smiled broadly. ‘But also, Pippa, I’ve made a list of five of the nearest small hotels in Somerset, and I thought we could visit them all – research purposes. I want to show you what’s already out there. Mostly so we make sure we do something different, stand out.

‘And, Freddie, we need to have a proper chat about the bar you’re planning. I have already started looking into the licences and legalities, but it would be good if we could start talking through the details.’ She felt her leg shaking under the table, but she hoped she sounded professional.

‘Of course,’ Freddie replied, surprise lacing his voice.

‘Great.’ Gemma smiled. ‘So, Pippa, how about today for the hotel visits? No time like the present.’

‘Oh, I’d love that,’ Pippa squealed in delight. ‘And we get to spend the day together!’ She really needed to take “boss” lessons from Harriet.

‘And I’ll start putting down my bar ideas today as well,’ Freddie said. ‘Then we can have a meeting.’ He seemed to have a found little bit of respect in his voice too, as he gave her one of his gorgeous smiles, which almost made her melt.

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