‘It’s Meadowbrook isn’t it? I think the first time we got drunk it was your dad’s brandy.’
‘Oh yes and stupidly I took his good stuff, he was furious and, well, I never made that mistake again.’
‘You were so sick, I have never seen anyone turn that shade of green.’
They were teenagers, and she had sneaked a bottle to the summer house. She couldn’t remember what triggered it, but Connor and she had shared a few drinks, before he became all sensible and tried to stop her. She remembered they were both in big trouble, although it was all her fault.
‘Oh my goodness, remember I insisted on going swimming in the lake, and you tried to stop me because I was drunk.’
‘I actually had to jump in the lake and drag you out, H, and that wasn’t fun, believe me.’
‘I did try to say it wasn’t your fault.’ No one but Connor called her H, her stomach felt as if it was on fire, from the drink or the memories.
‘You did, but I still got into big trouble. Mum grounded me for a month if I remember rightly.’ Connor laughed. ‘I didn’t mind, we had such fun in those days.’
‘We can again.’ Harriet felt alive, inspired and crazy. She had been such an adventurous, impulsive person once. What had happened to her? The most impulsive thing she did in New York was to buy coffee from a different coffee shop once in a while.
‘What are you thinking? You’ve got that look in your eyes?’ Connor narrowed his eyes.
‘The lake. Come on, grab towels.’
‘H, you are crazy!’ He had a twinkle in his eye.
‘The rain earlier will have warmed the water, come on.’
‘I am not saving you again, not even if you drown,’ Connor said. But he was already running upstairs.
‘Last one in’s a loser,’ Harriet called as they headed out the back. Just how they were in childhood.
Harriet felt the wind in her hair as she ran barefoot across the grass. She felt free and wild, the way she had growing up at Meadowbrook. Although it was dark, she knew the way to the lake, as if she had never been away. But sensible Connor was following with a torch, which illuminated her path along with the large moon.
Harriet reached the lake first and recklessly shrugged off her jumpsuit. She let it fall to the ground; she had shed her inhibitions just as easily. The idea of Connor seeing her in her bra and knickers didn’t occur to her; they’d spent most of their childhood running around half naked after all. She looked at him, he’d put the torch down, and had pulled off his shirt and jeans. He had a strong body, she couldn’t help but notice how hot it was; not too muscly, but not an ounce of fat on him. Oh God, she felt exposed as it hit her that they were no longer children. She was glad it was dark as she felt herself turning beetroot and she looked away. Taking a deep breath, she stood right on the edge of the lake and jumped in.
The cold of the water immediately sobered her, but as she immersed herself, it felt so comforting. This was home. This was her life, and she had turned her back on it for the city, but why? Why would anyone turn their back on this?
As she swam on her back, she realised that nothing made her feel as alive as this did. Not making millions of dollars, not shouting at a room full of men, not having sex with Zach. This was the best feeling ever; she had really come home.
‘I can’t believe you made me do this.’ Connor swam up to her. She could feel his presence so near to her.
‘I can’t believe we’re doing it either,’ she giggled. She had never wanted to be close to anyone the way she did now. But she didn’t want to make that mistake, she didn’t want to confuse things any more than they were in her head. She diffused the moment – which she acknowledged would only be her moment – by splashing him.
‘I’ll get you for that,’ Connor shouted and, as he chased her, she swam as fast as she could through the lake, remembering just who she was.
She was dripping as she wrapped one of Connor’s towels around her, and freezing. Her teeth chattered.
‘Right, crazy lady, let’s get you home.’
‘Connor, I can find my way back to the house, you go home otherwise you’ll get hypothermia.’
‘Let me walk you to the back gate at least,’ he said. She shrugged and followed him.
She could almost feel him watching her as she passed through the gate through to the back garden. She wanted so much to have him with her that she felt scared. There was a massive history of feelings there. She didn’t even know how to process them, or how to acknowledge them. She didn’t know if she could think about it, it scared her too much, as she opened the back door and crept in. Connor was her first love but they’d never been lovers. And she wasn’t sure what sort of love that was. A crush or something more? But nothing had ever happened between them. Not even a kiss. Connor had said that evening how they were totally wrong for each other, so why was she feeling like this? What if her father dying and losing her job was making her yearn for something she thought she had buried years and years ago? What if it wasn’t real? But what if it was?
Bloody Connor, it always came back to him. Bloody, bloody Connor.
She pulled the towel tighter around her as she walked through the hall towards the staircase. It was dark as she scrambled to find the light switch. She startled as she put the light on and saw Mark lurking outside her father’s study, his hand on the door handle.
‘What are you doing?’ she exclaimed.
‘Sorry, Harriet, I was just going to help myself to some of your father’s brandy,’ Mark answered quickly, like a rabbit caught in the headlights.
‘There’s brandy in the drawing room,’ she said, feeling confused.
‘I know but the one in the study is the nicest and I, well, I hoped you wouldn’t mind.’ He again looked awkward as he shuffled from foot to foot. Harriet did mind. She didn’t know why but she did.
‘Of course not. Right, well goodnight,’ she said. He smiled at her and went upstairs without bothering with the brandy. If he thought it was odd that she was wrapped in a towel dripping water over the floor, he didn’t say.
Chapter 13
July beckoned and the summer fête loomed and Meadowbrook took up more of Harriet’s time. The summer fete was scheduled for the August bank holiday weekend and Harriet was delighted that Pippa and Freddie had thrown themselves into it, even Freddie was actually enthusiastic, although some of his ideas – wine tasting, beer pong, a pole dancing competition – had to be vetoed. She felt almost redundant when it came to that and the gardens, although the animal sanctuary was keeping her busy. They hadn’t had any major fundraising projects; the summer fete was the first, so afterwards she was hoping to have an idea about how to raise the rest of her father’s target. Although this was a tiny amount in comparison to the money that Harriet usually played with, it was also proving slightly perplexing as to how to actually raise it. She had no charity experience apart from some sponsored swim she was forced to do at school.
The sanctuary was expensive to run, so the money allocated to it was getting eaten up quickly. Animals seemed to be coming in all the time, and they had a policy of never turning any away. They had a few regular donors, the dog walking volunteers stood outside the local supermarket once a month to raise money, but it was nowhere near enough. Harriet needed to come up with ideas. And fast.
Working with Connor was also keeping her occupied, or distracted, she didn’t know which. She was finding being so close to him agonising and wonderful at the same time. Since the swim in the lake she knew she couldn’t discount her feelings for him, feelings she’d quite probably had since she was aware of her own sexuality. Feelings that she had buried successfully for years. She needed to bury them again. She was so good at hiding how she felt, so surely she’d be able to do it, right?
‘Fred, are you ready?’ Harriet called, knocking as loudly as she could on his bedroom door. She heard a few swear words and then he emerged, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He looked thin still, and pale, but she was hoping that h
aving a purpose might make him pull himself together a bit, as she tried not to notice his bloodshot eyes. He refused to talk about his business still, just saying that it was gone and that was the end of it and he also seemed reluctant to talk about Loretta. Harriet was increasingly worried that if they didn’t do something he might slip down into depression or alcoholism. Or both. Gus said she was overreacting, he just needed time, and Pippa backed him up, but Harriet didn’t agree. She was going to keep a close eye on her youngest brother.
‘Ready, boss,’ he said with a grin.
‘I’m not your boss, Fred,’ she replied, swatting him on the arm. ‘And we’re late,’ she added. They were due to join Bella and a photographer for a photoshoot at the sanctuary.
‘Oh good, let’s take the buggy then.’ Freddie bounced. Although the sanctuary was only a short walk from the house, Freddie had taken to driving the buggy everywhere. He liked to survey ‘his land’, he said, which stretched for acres. No wonder Loretta had already adopted the lady of the manor role; Freddie had driven her around the whole weekend – although she gave the animals a wide berth. She didn’t even go and help when Freddie was being pecked at by the chickens, which was his fault as he’d been too busy showing off and he’d forgotten their feed.
What was returning to Harriet’s consciousness was the dynamic they had shared as children. Harriet was the oldest, yes, she also tried to be maternal, but that sometimes led to being judgemental, she was also hotheaded, and would jump in first and think – or repent – later. Gus was the level-headed peacemaker of the family. His gentle and creative way of looking at things meant he would look at any situation from all angles before passing judgement. That was coming back, too. He was once again becoming the calming influence he’d always been. Harriet had almost forgotten that. Freddie always liked to get his own way and was so funny and charming he usually did; Pippa and Freddie were similar in many ways. Although Pippa was the most unselfish of them, but also she had a habit of digging her heels in when something was important to her – she was more complex and contradictory than she appeared.
Harriet had often tried to tell them what to do when they were children, there would be a huge row, and then Gus would broker peace in an effort not to bother their father. Well, hello, that seemed to be the situation now as well. Not that they could bother their father anymore, she thought with a huge pang.
‘Freddie do you have to drive so erratically?’ Harriet screamed. Luckily the buggy didn’t go very fast, but the way Freddie drove was reminiscent of a dodgy fairground ride.
‘Yes, Harry, I do,’ he replied.
Harriet clutched the handle for dear life as they made their way across the fields and down to the sanctuary. As they drew nearer, she saw the photographer, barking orders to his assistant and Bella watching them.
‘Oh thank goodness you’re here,’ Bella said, rushing up to them as they climbed out of the buggy.
‘Are we late? What’s wrong?’ Harriet asked.
‘No, you’re not late, but – oh.’ Bella noticed Freddie for the first time.
‘Sorry, this is Freddie, Bella, you two are going to be working together on the PR.’
Freddie removed his sunglasses. ‘Frederick Singer at your service. Charmed to meet you.’ Freddie bowed dramatically, taking a surprised Bella’s hand and kissing it.
Harriet rolled her eyes; she noticed a slight flush on Bella’s cheeks, although Freddie had that effect on most people.
‘Lovely to meet you too,’ Bella replied. She looked the part, Harriet thought, jeans, Hunter wellies, a Barbour jacket. Dressed for the country, for an animal sanctuary, quite unlike when they met at her office in Bath.
‘So what’s the problem?’ Harriet asked.
‘It’s Connor, he’s being difficult. I hadn’t pegged him as a diva but …’ Bella looked unsure.
‘Connor, difficult? I find that hard to believe,’ Harriet replied, frowning.
‘Harry will sort him out,’ Freddie offered.
‘He’s in the office,’ Bella said, ‘and we don’t have much time.’ Harriet left the two of them and went to find him. Connor was trying to wedge himself behind a filing cabinet.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ she asked.
‘Trying and failing to hide. I thought you said she was professional.’
‘She is, and she’s also free, which is why we hired her. But that’s irrelevant, what is going on?’
‘She keeps trying to get me to take my top off.’ Connor looked so distraught, Harriet couldn’t help but laugh.
‘Why on earth would she do that?’ Harriet wasn’t sure she blamed her. After all he did have a very nice chest …
‘She says sex sells and I tried to point out that this was an animal sanctuary and I’m a vet, not a sex symbol.’ Harriet wanted to tell him that he was a sex symbol actually, but she never would.
‘Wouldn’t you take your top off if it meant lots more animals getting rehomed?’ she asked.
‘No, I wouldn’t. I’m not exactly a muscleman and it gives off the wrong image. We are an animal rescue and rehoming centre, not a knocking shop.’ Connor sounded so outraged that Harriet hoped her amusement wasn’t too apparent.
‘Good point. OK, if I tell them you are definitely keeping your top on, will you do me a favour?’
‘Anything, if I get to keep my shirt on.’
‘Cooperate with everything else, and then this will be as painless as possible.’
‘OK, deal.’
‘Good, let’s get this hot vet photo shoot over and done with.’
‘Your father would never have made me do this,’ was his parting shot.
They made their way outside where Bella and Freddie seemed deep in conversation.
‘Everything all right?’ Bella asked, nervously.
‘Yes, sorry, I stormed off but—’
‘Connor’s shirt is staying on, Bella, that’s non-negotiable,’ Harriet explained. ‘This is a serious subject after all.’
‘Of course, sorry if I upset you, Connor, I just got a bit enthusiastic.’ Her eyes shone as she looked at him. Harriet smarted; was she flirting?
‘I offered to take my shirt off, but apparently that’s not going to help,’ Freddie added.
‘Can we get started? I have to do some house calls later.’ Connor was still tetchy. Harriet couldn’t help but be pleased he wasn’t flirting with Bella.
Their star human was definitely not a natural in front of the camera, but luckily many of the animals were. Gerald especially enjoyed the limelight and Seb and Sam, the alpacas, managed to look almost flirtatious, despite trying to eat the camera at one point. Hilda took an adorable photo, although she kept rushing to Harriet when she was supposed to be still, so it took a while to get the right shot.
‘Hilda, sit,’ Harriet commanded in her sternest voice, but Hilda just wagged her tail and looked at her with those big eyes before running round in circles.
‘It’s OK, I’m used to shooting animals,’ the photographer, who thus far hadn’t spoken, said.
‘Oh my God, you kill animals!’ Freddie was horrified.
‘No, Freddie, he means, photographing them,’ Bella explained.
Bella was going to send out a press pack to local papers, radio stations, and even TV, to try to rustle up some coverage for the sanctuary. Harriet managed to slip back into professional mode as Freddie, she and Bella chatted over details of the campaign. Connor, as soon as he was allowed, scarpered without a backward glance.
‘Freddie, why don’t you give Bella a tour of the estate on the buggy?’ Harriet suggested as they wrapped up.
‘Would love to and I can tell you all about our big summer extravaganza,’ Freddie said.
‘Great.’ Bella beamed. She really was nice.
‘Right, your chariot awaits.’ Freddie ushered Bella onto the buggy and then took off; Bella’s squeals could be heard for quite some time.
‘So, I should thank you properly for persuading them not to turn
me into a sex object,’ Connor said when Harriet found him in the office.
‘You can buy me lunch,’ she said. ‘Oh, I forgot you said you had house calls.’
‘Ah, yes they seem to have been cancelled.’ His lie was evident. Clearly he just wanted to hurry the photo shoot up. ‘Pub?’ he asked. A bark rang out and they saw Hilda sitting looking hopefully at them.
‘Come on then, Hilda, you can come to lunch too.’
Harriet was surprised to find Gus in the pub, a pint in front of him.
‘Hey,’ she was a little disappointed that it wouldn’t be a cosy lunch for two (plus Hilda), but it was possibly for the best.
‘Caught red-handed,’ Gus laughed, awkwardly.
‘You are allowed a drink, you’re a grown-up,’ Connor teased. ‘Speaking of which, glass of wine? I’ll grab some menus.’ Harriet nodded.
‘Can we join you or did you want some alone time?’ Harriet asked.
‘Harry, I have so much alone time, that it’s ridiculous.’
‘Maybe it’s time you started dating again? I hear there’s this new thing called online dating.’
‘Oh god, can you imagine me doing that? My profile will read, sad, divorcee, one kid, dead-end job, pretty crap wardrobe, but might inherit a share in a big manor house and some money, which negates all that.’
‘Fleur’s right, you are actually quite funny,’ Harriet said.
‘What have I missed?’ Connor returned and set the drinks down.
‘Gus, doing his Tinder profile.’
‘Hell, Gus, don’t do it. I hate all that online stuff. Swiping left or right for an actual person, it’s dehumanising.’ Harriet was surprised by the passion in his voice.
‘I had no intention of it. I’m far to stuffy and old-fashioned. The last date I went on was pretty disastrous and, well, I am concentrating on Fleur, the gardens, the pigs and my painting right now.’
‘You know, Amanda is quite lovely and I believe she’s a single parent too,’ Connor said, reading Harriet’s thoughts. She smiled as she thought about Gus and Amanda; perhaps she could be Meadowbrook’s own personal matchmaker.
A Year at Meadowbrook Manor Page 13