A Year at Meadowbrook Manor: Escape to the countryside this year with this perfect feel-good romance read in 2018. Faith Bleasdale
take care of you all. And Connor, he gets his cottage, some money, and I expect you to support his work. I’ve set up a trust fund for Fleur. But I can’t stress enough, the animal sanctuary must flourish, it’s so important to me and I hope it will become important to all of you too. How you divide the labour is up to you.’ There was another pause but no one dared speak.
‘In conclusion, my children, I love you. I miss you, but I hope that by doing this I will have given you the best gift that a father can give. You might not think so now, but mark my words, the animal sanctuary helped me, maybe even saved me when I was lost, and as you, my children, are all lost in your own ways, I fully believe it will do the same for you. And at the same time you are getting your family back. And trust me, it might be too late for me, but it’s not for you. You will see what’s important, I truly believe that, and I will never stop loving you.’
There was a pause as their dad stared straight ahead of him. Harriet looked across at her siblings who all had shocked expressions, which hers probably mirrored.
‘Was he of sound mind?’ Gus asked.
‘Clearly not,’ Freddie said.
‘He was. I think your father has made his intentions clear,’ David stated, gently. ‘He was unorthodox, you know that, but he was your father and those are his wishes.’
‘And if we want to contest this?’ Harriet said.
‘There would be no point. Your father was sane, he was very certain of this plan, which I hope you will all respect.’
‘But if we do, respect it, as you say, we have to all live here together and run an animal sanctuary?’ Pippa looked distraught.
‘Yes. I know it sounds unusual, but, well, that was what your father wanted. I’ve got it all typed up here, a document for each of you with the exact terms.’
‘Right, I don’t care what you say, I bloody well need a drink now,’ Freddie stated, getting up and pouring himself a large whisky.
Pippa rubbed her temples as everyone began speaking at once.
‘SHUT UP,’ she heard her father’s voice say from the screen. As it had gone quiet, they forgot the video was still running. They all obeyed once more, perhaps for the last time. ‘You can do this, you will do this; I have every faith in you. I didn’t do this for my own enjoyment, if that’s what you’re thinking. But if you can undertake my wishes, then you will make me very proud. More importantly you will make yourselves very proud, and that is what I want more than anything.’
The four of them stared, open-mouthed, at the screen.
‘Gwen, did you get all that?’ Andrew Singer asked, standing up. He was tall, like Gus and Freddie, his grey hair was neat and he was wearing a V-neck sweater and chinos, his favoured casual wear.
‘I did, Andrew,’ Gwen replied.
‘And how was I? Was I all right?’
‘Just as good as any Hollywood actor, Andrew,’ Gwen replied before the screen went black.
‘What do we do now?’ Gus asked, waving a copy of the document that David had handed over to them before he scarpered. He promised a meeting as soon as they’d had a chance to digest things. But after what they had just experienced, Harriet wasn’t sure they would ever digest it. The feeling of unease that her father’s video had left her with sat heavily on her stomach, and she couldn’t seem to order her thoughts. Lost, she poured and handed out brandies for them all. After all, it was supposed to be good for shock and they were definitely in shock.
‘Go and muck out some pigs, I am guessing,’ Freddie joked, but he wasn’t smiling. ‘Do we even have any pigs?’ He stared into his glass.
‘Daddy did love that sanctuary,’ Pippa mused. ‘Oh God, Mark is going to be so upset about this.’ She chewed her bottom lip, a habit she’d had when she was anxious since childhood.
‘But, Pip, what Dad said about him?’ Freddie started.
‘I don’t know what he was talking about,’ Pippa replied. ‘Mark and I are very happy. I just don’t understand where that even came from.’
‘God, are we grasping what he’s asking? Run a rescue centre for animals, fundraise and live here, all together? For a whole year!’ Why did their father think that they would, or should, give up their lives? It made no sense. Even his explanation didn’t add up. And Harriet felt guilty, but she knew there was no way she could do it, no matter what the consequences were. Oh yes, she could take some time out to sort out her father’s estate, but if it was more than a week or two, some hungry younger person would be snapping at her heels to take her place at work. And she would never, ever give up her beloved job. Never.
‘It’s so much, so so much.’ Gus’s face was ashen.
‘Look, we need time to think. Pip, you need to talk to Mark, so I suggest that we all take some time and I’ll go and see Gwen and tell her we’ll have a family dinner tonight to talk about it.’
‘Still the same old bossy, Harry,’ Freddie said.
‘And thank goodness – someone needs to be,’ Harriet bit back before leaving the room.
She found Gwen in the kitchen, pulling a freshly baked cake out of the Aga and then she saw Connor, sitting at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea. The large kitchen was the only room which didn’t have her father’s stamp on it. It had, as long as Harriet could remember, been Gwen’s domain and she had made it her own. It felt like a proper country kitchen. Huge pine table, the largest Aga they could get; it was always warm and welcoming, filled with the aroma of delicious food. But the main difference was that Gwen had filled the two ancient dressers with her personal knick-knacks as well as the crockery and dinner services that they used. The array of china chickens, pigs and her extensive egg-cup collection had been growing ever since Gwen had moved into the kitchen. There was something so charming about it. Not least that her father found it horrific, but he quickly learnt not to interfere in her kitchen. Harriet remembered her chasing him out once with a wooden spatula when he tried to tell her what to do. No one messed with Gwen’s kitchen.
‘Hello, love,’ Gwen said. ‘Can I make you a cuppa?’
‘No I’m fine, thanks.’ Harriet smiled; Gwen was wearing her apron, Harriet could count the number of times on one hand when she had seen the housekeeper without an apron tied around her waist. There was Pippa’s wedding, and of course yesterday, at her father’s funeral.
Gwen was younger than her father at sixty. She had grey hair, worn in a sensible bob, and a fair few lines scattered on her face made her look her age, but she was fit and healthy. She had the energy of a much younger person. Her loyalty to the family had been one of the few constants in Harriet’s life. Harriet remembered coming home from school to freshly baked biscuits or cakes, but Gwen didn’t overstep the mark, she never interfered unless they asked her to. Harriet felt a pang of love for the woman who had always been there for them.
‘So, obviously you’ve seen the video,’ Gwen said, chewing her lip nervously.
Connor locked eyes with Harriet; God, his eyes were piercing as she was hit by a jolt. He always had those mesmerising eyes which made her feel he could see inside her. She felt like a foolish little girl again. The girl whose childhood consisted of mainly trying to impress him.
She and Connor had grown up together, along with her other siblings. But the two of them would often sneak off from them to go exploring. Connor was fascinated by wildlife and he always had some plan to find animals which usually involved either climbing trees, looking in hedges or jumping into the lake. Harriet usually got roped into carrying his equipment around, nets, ropes, binoculars, cameras. She was his packhorse. But back then Harriet had been happy to trail around in wellies