‘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 with him. Having so much land around Meadowbrook meant that they had enjoyed an almost feral childhood. Although of course they also had the best of everything, they were encouraged to explore the outdoors, running through fields, paddling in the lake, climbing trees; it was incredible, but a different world to corporate Harriet. Almost as if it had happened to someone else. Although Connor was clearly still living that life. Whereas for her, in New York, jogging in Central Park was as outdoorsy as she got these days.
‘Yes, Gwen “Spielberg” White, we certainly did,’ she joked, hoping to cover up how unsettled she felt.
‘Oh, Mum, was your filming that bad?’ Connor asked, lips curled up in amusement.
‘It certainly was not. Well, not for my first time,’ Gwen replied, giving her son a swat on the head. ‘Although I don’t know if I’ve got a future in it, to be honest.’ She smiled.
‘I don’t think the quality of the filming is the debate we’ll be having later,’ Harriet said. Gwen looked a little embarrassed. ‘Gwen, we’re going to have dinner together to discuss it, is that all right?’
‘Of course, I’ve got a roast on for you all, I thought you might need fortifying. What time do you want to eat?’
‘About seven-thirty? I think tonight we need to chat about what we are going to do.’
‘Quite right,’ Gwen said. ‘You’ve got decisions to make.’
‘We do. Big decisions.’ Harriet’s eyes narrowed.
‘I know it’s none of my business,’ Connor said. ‘But it must seem quite ridiculous at the moment.’
‘Yes, and as it involves the animal sanctuary it is your business. But it’s surreal. I heard Dad talk about his animals but I didn’t really give it too much thought,’ she said, pointing an accusing finger at Connor. ‘I guess we also need to have a conversation about the sanctuary, I know it’s your baby.’
Connor’s eyes lit up. ‘Yes, it is my baby and Andrew’s too. It’s something I’d always wanted to do, and well, Andrew had the land, so when he got involved it was wonderful. He loved it, Harry, he really did, but I’m not going to give you the hard sell. It’s important, not just to your father’s memory, but you’ll see that for yourself. When you’re ready.’ His eyes were full of passion, which only fuelled her guilt.
‘Right, I might go for a bath before supper, I’ve got so much to think about,’ Harriet said, leaving the warmth of the kitchen. She needed to clear her head, after the brandy and the pre-will, or whatever it was called, and, fingers crossed, a relaxing bath would help.
Chapter 6
Harriet lay back, closed her eyes and relaxed in the hot bubble bath. She felt her muscles all easing as she let herself luxuriate in the hot water. This was another unusual step for her, taking a bath rather than a super quick shower. In New York her apartment didn’t have a bath, she was constantly rushing, she had forgotten how to go slowly, but Meadowbrook seemed to be gently reminding her. And as she thought about her father, and his will, her siblings and the decisions facing them all, she enjoyed the hot water and the feeling of being still.
Only when she was about to turn into a prune did she get out and change for dinner. She had only a limited wardrobe of clothes with her, after all she expected to only be home for a week or so, but she pulled on a pair of black trousers and a cashmere sweater. She was a little anxious for the evening ahead, it was going to be a difficult discussion, and she had a feeling that she would be terribly unpopular when she told them that she couldn’t possibly do as their father wanted. Of course she couldn’t. Her father was right in so many ways. Her work life was great, her personal one pretty dire, but he didn’t understand how much she had invested in New York. She couldn’t give that up, it just wasn’t possible.
Freddie was mixing drinks when she entered the drawing room. This was her father’s favourite room, it was huge, with three custom-made sofas, a smattering of upholstered armchairs, a huge open fire, and floor-to-ceiling windows which looked out onto the small lawn that edged the drive. It used to have a grand piano in it. She remembered how when they were young the siblings would sit on the piano stool and bash the keys. But it was her mother’s, and her father had got rid of it after she died. He couldn’t bear to have it in the house and none of them had ever been encouraged to take piano lessons. A bit like with Gus’s art, her father had obviously found it too hard.
‘Hey,’ she said to Freddie. He smiled. He was too thin, she decided. Fred had always been tall, slender, but his cheekbones jutted out just a bit too much now. Perhaps she would ask Gwen to feed him up. She’d love that.
‘Vodka Martini?’ he asked.
‘Bloody hell, Fred, that’s brutal,’ she said as she took a sip of the glass he handed her. As the alcohol slipped down, she felt calmer, despite the fact that on sip two she would possibly be drunk. ‘But you definitely know how to mix your drinks.’
‘It’s one of my limited skill set. Dad, when I visited, said I made the best Martini and we’d sit and drink two, only two, together before dinner. It was our way of bonding.’
‘Did you get home much?’ Harriet felt the swords of guilt stabbing her again. All her siblings were here in their own way, for their father.
‘Lately yes. I liked to get away from London.’ Freddie’s face darkened. ‘So I spent a bit of time here. You know, I think that’s part of the reason for the weird video-will thing. He worried about us, I know he worried about me.’
‘Did he need to worry about you?’ Harriet asked evenly. He shrugged. ‘I miss him,’ she said, feeling an urgent need to think about her dad, to talk about him.
‘I do too. God, remember growing up? He used to push us, sometimes I felt he was unreasonably hard, other times I felt we, or at least I, needed it. He told me that my job wasn’t a job but an extended party. He kept waiting for me to realise that and find something grown-up to do. His favourite thing to do was to be my career counsellor.’ Freddie gave a dry laugh.
‘Annoying.’
‘Yes, but I would give anything to be annoyed by him right now.’ Tears shone in Freddie’s eyes.
Gus walked in, downcast, which seemed to be his usual state these days. Harriet wished she could hug him, but they didn’t have that relationship, or not right now, but when they were younger, they had been so close that they were practically joined at the hip. Especially after losing their mother, wh
en they both felt as if they needed to take care of the younger ones. But when Harriet was sent to school it changed. When she came home in the holidays there was a distance between her and Gus which they tried hard not to notice. A distance with all of them which had never fully recovered.
Gus had married his university girlfriend, Rachel, when she got pregnant with Fleur at twenty-two, a shotgun wedding hastily arranged, so the distance between brother and sister had increased. They worked hard to maintain some kind of relationship, but Harriet didn’t get on with Rachel, or actually vice versa. So they drifted more and when Harriet moved to New York, their contact was limited to emails. She sent gifts for Fleur of course, but Harriet had been about as bad a sister and aunt as she had a daughter.
But when had Gus got so dour? He was never quite as laid-back as Freddie – no one bar a recliner chair was – however, he didn’t used to be this uptight either.
‘I know, new resolution, whatever we decide about Dad’s crazy will, I want us to behave like a family again,’ Harriet said, feeling a sudden urgency for her family.
‘I’ll drink to that.’ Freddie handed Gus a Martini and replenished his and Harriet’s glasses.
‘Blimey, Fred, this will have me under the table in no time,’ Gus said, taking a sip.
‘Good, you need to loosen up,’ Freddie replied with a wink.
‘Yes, well you might regret saying that when I’m legless,’ Gus laughed. Harriet wished she felt as easy with them as they seemed to be with each other.
‘Am I late?’ Pippa asked as she entered the room.
‘Just in time for a drink,’ Freddie said, pouring her a Martini and hugging her warmly.
‘Fred, did you make a vat of that?’ Harriet asked.
‘No, just a jug.’
‘Has Mark gone?’ Gus asked.
‘Yes, he has to work tomorrow and, well, we need to make a decision, of course. I felt as if it would be impossible but Mark made me see that it’s not necessarily so—’
They were saved by Gwen appearing. ‘Dinner’s ready, loves,’ she said.
‘Gwen, you know we can clear up after dinner,’ Harriet said. ‘It’s been a tough few days and we’d rather you relaxed than waited on us.’
‘Are you sure, I don’t mind?’ Gwen replied.
‘Honestly, it’s not on. We are big enough to clear up after ourselves, and I know full well you’ll be in that kitchen first thing in the morning making another delicious breakfast. Please,’ Harriet begged. She knew Gwen felt the need to work, but not every minute of every day. ‘Either go and see Connor or watch your soap operas!’ They both laughed. Harriet remembered how her dad hated her watching EastEnders back when she was young so she would sneak to Gwen’s cottage and watch it with her; their secret. Another memory that she had buried. How many more would there be?
The air was thick with anxiety as they went through to the dining room and they took their seats. It felt formal, serious, and Harriet had a thousand thoughts whooshing round her mind. They all faced each other; their father’s chair at the end of the table conspicuously empty. Plates of food sat in front of them, along with empty wine glasses. Gwen, despite being told that they didn’t need such formality, said she liked doing things ‘properly’. As wine was poured, silence descended. They tucked into their food, Harriet was glad to eat, although she felt a little fuzzy from the Martinis. She barely tasted the food.
‘OK, I guess it’s time for us to discuss what we are all thinking,’ Harriet said, taking charge yet again. Yes she was bossy, but she was the oldest and being bossy hadn’t done her any harm. She had become the youngest female Vice President in her department at the investment bank. And she headed up a large team, mainly men, earning a salary that most people could only dream of. So, being bossy worked for her, why change it?
‘Well Gwen has surpassed herself again with this dinner. She’s such a treasure,’ Freddie quipped.
‘You know what I mean. Dad, his will, or pre-will. Meadowbrook Manor and the animal sanctuary. Am I the only one who’s never seen it?’
‘Yup. They’ve built it out past Gwen and Connor’s cottages. Paddocks have been cordoned off, there’s housing for all the animals as well as a specific cat home and dog home,’ Pippa said.
‘I’ll see Connor and get him to arrange for me to have a guided tour,’ Harriet replied, efficiently. Despite the Martinis and the wine she was currently drinking, her brain had gone into work mode. She knew full well she wouldn’t be able to do what her father wanted, but she needed to see what her siblings thought before she showed her hand.
‘And animal sanctuary aside, what about living here? I mean how random is that?’ Freddie quipped.
‘Let’s go round the table and discuss what each of us thinks about it,’ Harriet suggested. ‘I mean, is it even possible for us to put our lives on hold for a year?’ No, she wanted them all to say. The idea that she might be the only one to cost her siblings so dearly seemed unthinkable.
‘OK, boss,’ Freddie laughed. He downed some more wine and topped up his glass, spearing a potato with his fork at the same time. ‘Well, I am currently living with my girlfriend, the lovely Loretta.’
‘Hey, how come we haven’t heard of her?’ Harriet asked.
‘Well I have, actually,’ Pippa replied.
‘Me too,’ Gus added, leaving Harriet feeling an outsider yet again.
‘Why wasn’t she at the funeral?’ Harriet asked a little more aggressively than she intended. What the hell was wrong with her? She felt a burning jealousy that the three of them all had a part in each other’s lives, but she was the one who took herself away from them. It was her fault.
‘She’s overseas, working – she’s a model. So she wanted to come but couldn’t. She’s gone for about a month. Anyway, although I am not sure I can cope living with all of you, I personally think we should honour Dad’s wishes.’
‘What about Loretta?’ Harriet asked, surprised by Freddie’s easy compliance.
‘What about work?’ Pippa asked, echoing her thoughts.
‘Surely they can survive without me for a year. Loretta can stay at weekends and I can still be involved with work, remotely. Did the terms say we could do that?’
‘I haven’t read them yet,’ Harriet replied. She had scanned the document, but because of the impossibility of the whole thing, she had yet to properly read it, was there any point? ‘OK, so Fred’s in. Gus?’ Harriet felt her heart sink. Surely Gus would put a stop to this nonsense?
Gus exhaled. He looked as if he carried the world on his shoulders and he also looked exhausted. His face seemed to wear sorrow which Harriet knew couldn’t just be down to their father’s death. Yes they were all grieving, but with Gus there was definitely more.
‘Well, funnily enough, I was thinking of taking some time off work. And Fleur loves it here, so it might help with our relationship. She’s twelve, going on twenty, and I feel that I have no clue how to be with my own daughter.’
‘Gus, what’s going on?’ Harriet asked. First Freddie, now Gus?
‘Oh, you know, the usual, premature midlife crisis and all that. And, you know with Dad dying, it’s just been a bit tough, but the point is that despite the fact I’m not keen on running the animal sanctuary, I would be open to living here. You see the alternative, not having the house in the family, seems wrong.’
Harriet had thought about that. Yes it would be terrible not to have Meadowbrook in the family. God, almost unthinkable.
‘But say we do this, for a year, then what?’ she asked.
‘Who knows,’ Gus replied. ‘I guess we cross that bridge when we need to, at the moment we just need to focus on this year.’ Harriet glanced around, surely they didn’t think this was a good idea? What on earth was going on?
‘Mark and I talked, as I started to tell you when we were in the drawing room,’ Pippa explained. ‘He said it was my decision, although like you, Fred, he said that we should probably honour Dad’s last wishes. In fact, he was rat
her encouraging, quite disproving what Dad said. I know we’ll find it tough being apart all week, but he could come here at weekends. That’s all right in the terms actually, I checked with David.’
‘But you are prepared to live apart from your husband all week?’ Harriet didn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice.
‘I don’t agree with what Dad said on the video, so don’t think that. We’re happy, Mark and I love each other and he proved that by saying that he would let me decide what to do about this whole thing. So I think that our marriage is strong enough for this, for anything, and I really would like to do what Daddy wanted us to.’ A lone tear rolled down her pink cheek.
Harriet remembered Pippa’s wedding day, the last time they had all been together. She’d spent a week with her family at Meadowbrook. The wedding was held in the village church and the reception was in a huge marquee in the grounds of the Manor. Pippa was young, not quite twenty-five and so excited. She was so radiant, she glowed. And her dress, a beautiful designer gown, had been stunning. It had almost made Harriet cry, almost but not quite. Mark looked handsome, top hat and tails, and their father radiated pride as he gave his youngest daughter away. Harriet was her maid of honour and, at that time, not wanting to be married, had enjoyed her sister’s happiness.
‘So, Pip, you’re a yes?’ Harriet couldn’t believe it. ‘Not more than a few hours ago we were all saying Dad was mad.’
A Year at Meadowbrook Manor Page 5