Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor. Faith Bleasdale
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.
‘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