‘Being Mark’s wife, well, I have to look the part. He’s very successful, you know,’ Pippa said, sounding a little defensive.
‘Pip, you wear what you want, I don’t care.’ Harriet shrugged.
Freddie decided to drive and Harriet sat in the front passenger seat able to enjoy the drive through Parker’s Hollow. It had been so long since she had been in the village, she needed to reacquaint with it. She felt herself choke up as they passed the church where they had buried their father and she turned to see Pippa wiping a tear. They drove past other landmarks of her childhood: the village store, which was now part of a chain, the post office which was attached, and the pub, the Parker’s Arms. It was a proper village pub, good simple food, the same locals always propping the bar up, she hoped it hadn’t changed. And, she thought, she’d have plenty of time to find out.
The village was just as she remembered it; it was comfortingly familiar. It was so pretty with the village green, the local primary school, and gorgeous houses and quintessential English cottages. There was a small new modern estate on the edge of the village which was the only addition to it as far as she could see.
Harriet glanced across at Freddie who was humming as he drove. She felt her mouth curling up in a smile; it was beginning to feel even more like home.
‘So, you’re sure no one died in these clothes?’ Freddie asked the elderly lady who was trying to serve him.
‘Not as far as I know.’ She had a broad Bristol accent. ‘Now do you want them?’ She was losing patience, and Harriet understood. This was the fourth charity shop they had been in, which had been a bit of an eye-opener. Nothing like Prada, she had been astounded by the first shop they entered. It was neat and tidy but all the clothes were squashed together and there didn’t seem to be any order. Thankfully, as she and Freddie exchanged horrified glances, Pippa had taken charge. She found all the clothes in Harriet’s size and bundled her into the changing room before doing the same to Freddie. Turned out Pippa had worked in a charity shop for a few months before she married Mark. It was one of her many attempts at having a job without having a job, she explained. Anyway, at least it was paying off. She had a knack at finding the right things and now Harriet was the proud owner of four jumpers, a cardigan and a padded jacket which was from Joules, which Pippa exclaimed to be the find of the day. Freddie had a few shirts, T-shirts and trousers. She’d even found a pair of wellington boots. They were hardly Hunters, but they would do.
Now they were in the last shop where Pippa had found Freddie a couple of jackets and a pair of shoes that Harriet was pretty sure someone had died in. After Freddie had reluctantly paid for his belongings, they headed back to the car.
‘Well that was fun,’ Pippa said.
‘Yeah, easy enough for you to say, you don’t have to wear dead people clothes,’ Freddie moaned. He was fixated on it.
‘Well, it was an eye-opener that was for sure,’ Harriet said. She had spent all of her forty pounds but she had quite a lot for her money. She just hoped she didn’t need anything else this week.
‘Never mind, I’m sure Gwen will wash everything for me,’ Freddie said.
‘Not sure that was what Dad had in mind when he was trying to get us to be less spoilt,’ Harriet finished as she sat back to enjoy the journey home.
Harriet put her wellington boots by the back door. They were floral and not her first choice, but then neither was the jumper she was wearing – not cashmere in the slightest.
She emailed her closest friend in New York, Mimi, asking her if they could help her with her apartment. She wouldn’t sell it yet, that was far too drastic, but she thought if she could get her belongings packed up, some stored and some shipped over, then she could let out the furnished apartment for the year. When she typed about losing her job, she felt herself crumble. She let herself sob as she finished writing and pressed send. New York was so far away, but still, the idea that she wouldn’t be going back to the bank didn’t feel real. But then neither did the idea that she would never see her father again.
She needed to get in touch with the rest of her friends but she wasn’t quite strong enough for that yet. She felt as if she had a mountain to climb, but at least she had started. She emailed Zach again, saying that she accepted redundancy but he was the biggest dick ever not to have the decency to tell her himself. Of course he hadn’t replied to either email. So she then contacted HR to formally accept their offer. She could have fought it, hired a hotshot lawyer, but the fight had gone out of her. She wanted to draw a line. Move on. Get this year out of the way so she could then focus on her future.
‘Are you all right, Auntie Harriet?’ Harriet wiped the tears from her eyes, as she turned and saw her niece standing there.
‘Oh sorry, Fleur, just feeling a bit sad,’ she replied. She didn’t know Fleur that well so she was surprised when her niece flung her arms around her. Fleur was tall, with long dark hair. She looked more like her mother than Gus, but there was definitely Singer features in there. Her eyes, and her expression, Harriet thought.
‘About Granddad?’ Fleur asked, her voice wobbling as she hugged her aunt back.
‘Yes, God yes, we’re all going to miss him. Anyway, I think I need some cake, shall we go and see if Gwen has any for us?’
‘Yes, let’s.’ Fleur smiled, she wore braces, and although she carried herself with the awkwardness of a twelve-year-old, already she was turning into a beauty. Gus would have to watch out, there’d be queues of boys to contend with in a year or so.
‘How long are you staying?’ Harriet asked.
‘Just for the weekend. I come most weekends, unless Mum has something planned. Daddy said we could all go and see the animals tomorrow, he said he’d even come although he’s allergic.’ She smiled. Harriet saw Gus in her smile.
‘Great, it’s about time we spent some time together as a family and I might as well get used to the idea of working at the animal sanctuary.’
‘Blimey, Auntie Harry, I thought you were some kind of city slicker,’ Fleur laughed.
‘So did I, Fleur. So did I.’
Harriet hadn’t often thought about whether she wanted children or not. The situation had never arisen and she hadn’t yet felt a ticking biological clock inside her. She assumed she was one of those women who valued being a career woman above being a mum. But she certainly felt maternal towards Fleur. She felt a bit of envy for the fact that Gus might have a fractured life, like hers, but at least he had a daughter to show for it. Had she missed this? She was thirty-seven, she was single. OK, so she could in theory still have a baby, after all didn’t women well into their forties have babies these days? But she didn’t know the first thing about how she felt about that, or if she even wanted one. She’d probably make a terrible mother, although she did feel quite maternal towards her favourite shoes …
‘Well, you all look a bit glum,’ Gwen said, as they entered the kitchen.
‘I miss Granddad, it feels funny being here without him,’ Fleur said.
‘I agree.’ Harriet smiled sadly as they sat at the kitchen table.
‘I know, it’s not easy to get used to, I wonder if I ever will. I keep expecting to see him,’ Gwen agreed. ‘Look at me, I even baked his favourite lemon cake today. Don’t suppose you fancy some?’ she asked, looking at Fleur.
‘Can I have cream with it?’ she replied.
‘And me,’ Harriet added.
She sent a text to the others telling them to meet them in the kitchen as Gwen made a pot of tea. Soon Pippa, Freddie and Gus appeared.
‘Fleur,’ Pippa said, kissing her head.
‘Hi, Auntie Pip.’
‘Right, where’s this cake?’ Freddie asked, sitting down. Gus stood awkwardly by the Aga.
‘Come and sit next to me, Dad,’ Fleur said, and Gus flushed with pleasure.
‘Gwen this is the best cake ever,’ Pippa said as they all tucked into tea and cake. Gwen looked pleased.
‘But you know we need to talk about how muc
h work you do for us,’ Harriet said.
‘Look, pet, it’s my pleasure. I love looking after you. I miss looking after Andrew, and Connor, well, he doesn’t need me so much; this house, well, it’s my life. Please don’t worry about me doing too much, I really want to at the moment, I need to keep myself busy.’
‘Please keep baking for us,’ Freddie said.
‘It’s just that we feel so spoilt, Gwen,’ Gus said, agreeing with Harriet.
‘Well I’m not objecting,’ Freddie said. Pippa rolled her eyes.
‘Would you let us help more around here?’ Pippa suggested. ‘And, actually, as you run the house so brilliantly you should tell us what you need us to do, so we don’t interfere.’ Harriet felt relieved. Pippa was always the diplomat of the family.
‘Of course, you’re welcome to help, as long as you don’t take my job away from me.’
‘We would never, ever do that.’ Harriet went to hug her. ‘As long as you want it, it’s yours.’
‘And my living arrangements?’ Gwen asked.
‘God, that’s up to you. Meadowbrook is your home, you’ve got your rooms here, and the cottage is yours, you decide where you live.’ Harriet’s voice was full of conviction.
‘I want to stay here for now,’ Gwen replied.
‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ Harriet grinned. ‘Right well tonight I’ll be your assistant for dinner and, Gwen, will you join us?’
‘I will. Connor’s out, but I’d be delighted to have dinner with you.’
It was beginning to feel as if they might just find their way back to being a family again.
She wondered if her father could see them now and, if he could, what he would have thought. As Harriet ambled around Meadowbrook, taking in the grand rooms, the high ceilings, the art, the flowers that Gwen arranged every week, she would have loved to have known, when he was making his plan, what his real intentions were.
Did he know what a mess Harriet was in? It was as if he knew more about them and their lives than they ever did. Her father had always seemed clever, but she had never thought of him as this perceptive before. Either that or their first view still held; that he really was batshit crazy.
After dinner she had gone into her father’s study to look over paperwork, make lists and check her emails. New York, not quite a distant memory yet, prising her fingers off it wasn’t proving easy. Mimi was concerned but on board with helping with the apartment; they arranged to Skype the following day. Apart from spam, there was a message from HR with final paperwork, and, finally, a message from Zach’s personal account.
Harriet, I feel that in the circumstances it would be better if you didn’t contact me again.
She couldn’t believe her eyes. What a jerk. He probably thought it was him she was upset about, not the job. Egotistical sod. She had almost hurled the computer at the wall but she didn’t because Harriet was far too rational. Reading the simple line again, Harriet realised she needed to find her old self. She needed to find the person she was before New York. If she could find her way back to that person, then everything would be all right. But Harriet had buried her so well, like hidden bodies, she wasn’t sure where on earth she was.
Unsure how she was supposed to deal with her emotions, she pottered around the house, looking for answers.
Gus and Fleur were on the sofa in the snug. They were watching a film together and it was the most relaxed Harriet had seen Gus, so she quietly left them to it. She didn’t want to disturb some much-needed father/daughter bonding.
Pippa was in the kitchen with Mark. He had arrived after dinner, and Pippa had heated up some food for him. Harriet quietly backed away as they sat at the kitchen table, sipping wine and talking about their respective weeks.
She needed to get rid of her nervous energy so she went to get changed and then headed down to the basement to the gym. Running was her only relief at the moment. As she walked past the pool she saw Freddie, fast asleep on one of the sunloungers, an empty bottle of vodka next to him. She shook her head and covered him with a large towel. She would have to tackle him about his drinking, hopefully it was just because he was missing Dad, but honestly, he was far too old to be passing out like a teenager. They were no longer teenagers, not any of them, and Harriet needed to accept that too.
Chapter 9
‘Fleur, I swear I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you on a Sunday,’ Freddie said, as he pulled on a pair of their father’s wellies, which fitted him and didn’t seem to worry him that their former owner was in fact dead.
‘Uncle Fred, you’ve got to get used to it,’ Fleur teased. He was wearing some of his new clothes. He looked even scruffier than Harriet felt.
‘Don’t call me uncle, it makes me sound old.’
‘But you are,’ Fleur replied, looking confused. They all laughed. ‘Dad, are you going to be all right with your allergies?’
‘I’ve taken a pill, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be fine, but if I start sneezing then I’ll step back.’ Gus sounded less uptight, almost verging on happy.
‘I’m sorry, have I kept you waiting?’ Pippa asked.
‘We’re just about ready to go. No Mark?’ Harriet asked. She was struggling to be as open and as comfortable with her siblings as they seemed to be with each other and she could tell, at times, when they looked at her questioningly that they noticed it. She was trying but falling short.
‘No, he’s going to stay here and catch up with some work but I promised I’d go out for lunch with him. Is that all right?’
‘Pippa, you don’t need our permission,’ Freddie quipped.
‘We’re only going to the Parker’s Arms if you do want to join us.’
‘We don’t have any money,’ Freddie pointed out.
‘Oh God, we can’t even buy a pub lunch,’ Gus said.
‘What’s this?’ Fleur asked.
‘Your grandfather thought it was a good idea to give us a tiny allowance for the year we have to stay here,’ Freddie explained.
‘He probably thought you were all too spoilt.’ They all looked at Fleur, unsure how to react to that.
‘Can we take the buggy?’ Freddie changed the subject
‘Honestly, Fred, it’s not that far, come on let’s all walk,’ Gus said, and they set off.
Connor was waiting for them by the sanctuary office. Harriet tried not to notice how nice he looked in his jeans and polo shirt. It was a dull day, warmish but with no sign of sun. Harriet had brought a jacket, because the sky looked as if it might unleash some good Mendip rain later; the others had teased her for that.
‘Hey, Connor.’ Fleur ran up to greet him, and Harriet could see they were close. Was everyone close apart from her? She felt something akin to jealousy; their relationships with Connor (as well as each other) were all easier than hers, but she had no one to blame but herself. She felt like an outsider in her family, but then why wouldn’t she? It was time to build bridges.
‘Hey, Fleur. Do you want to come say hello to the dogs first?’ Connor suggested.
‘How many dogs are there?’ Freddie asked.
‘Eighteen. Gus, willing to risk it?’
‘Please, Dad,’ Fleur said.
‘Sure, why not.’ Gus forced a smile.
‘I’d love to meet the dogs too,’ Harriet said, trying to sound jolly. ‘Who walks them? I’m assuming they need exercise?’ she asked, sounding as if she was in the office.
‘We have a wonderful volunteer dog-walking group who come up from the village – not the same people every day but they, and whoever is on duty, usually does one long walk. And as you’ll see, their quarters have a large outside space, so they do get exercise. Of course, what they all need is loving homes, but we’re working on that.’
They followed Connor to the dog centre. As they entered, dogs in large and what seemed like quite luxurious kennels all started barking for attention. There were so many, all breeds and sizes.
‘Oh, can we let them out, just for a bit?’ Fleur asked.
Fleur took over as she directed everyone to round the dogs up and let them outside, without a stampede. Harriet was impressed by her niece.
‘She’s so good,’ she said.
‘Ah, she’s my apprentice, is Fleur. Reminds me of her Aunt Harriet.’
Harriet felt herself flush.
‘She’s a natural with animals. Shame her father isn’t,’ Connor continued – Gus looked terrified as dogs whizzed past him.
‘It’s so sad, why do they all live here. I mean it’s nice enough, but dogs need a proper home.’ Harriet felt her eyes welling again, and she turned to see an Old English sheepdog standing next to her, wagging its tail and looking at her with an expression which simply said, ‘love me.’
‘Harry, you all right?’ Fred asked, looking concerned.
‘Why do people think it’s OK to treat or abandon animals like this?’ she replied, angrily, and she bent down to stroke the eager dog.
‘Meet Hilda. She belonged to a family who downsized and said there simply wasn’t room for her. She’s lovely though.’ She barked as if to agree with Connor as he ruffled her fur. Harriet knew she had to pull herself together. How on earth was she going to survive running this place if she wanted to cry every five minutes?
‘I’ve been trying to rehome a dog or two for ages, but Mark isn’t keen, he’s a bit worried about the mess,’ Pippa said. Harriet looked at her sharply, but she had moved on to play ball with a Labrador.
‘Why didn’t Dad have one? At the house?’ Harriet asked.
‘When the last of his dogs, Jimmy, died, he did think about getting another one, but then, well, with his health problems he didn’t want to take on that commitment. I wish more people thought like him though, Harry. I’ve rehomed over fifty dogs so far this year and we’re a tiny shelter.’
‘Right, well the dogs are lovely and I’m so glad they are cared for, but I’m desperate to see the gay bulls.’ Freddie lightened the mood.
‘They’re not gay, are they?’ Fleur’s eyes were wide.
A Year at Meadowbrook Manor Page 8