‘And your cast-off?’ Gus raised an eyebrow.
‘No, don’t be silly, we got on fine but we both lacked the spark.’
‘Amanda’s passionate about her work which I like but, well, why would she be interested in me?’ Gus looked genuinely baffled.
‘Why wouldn’t she?’ Harriet said fiercely. ‘After all, as you said, you might have a dead-end job and be a sad divorcee, but you are going to inherit a share in the house and gardens,’ she teased.
‘Well there you go, she’d be a fool to turn me down and we’d save a fortune on garden fees if she was obliged to do them for free,’ Gus laughed.
‘See I told you, you were funny.’
‘Honestly though,’ Connor said, interrupting her Cupid thoughts, ‘what do you think will happen when you do inherit the house?’
‘We can’t think about that,’ Harriet said. She bristled. She wasn’t ready to think about what would happen after this year, yet. Perhaps not ever. Would she stay in the UK, go back to New York? Would she want to work in the city again or was she going to take a totally different path? It was all too terrifying to think about, not least the fact that she didn’t have the first clue what she actually wanted to do with her life since losing her job. How could you get to thirty-seven and not know anything? Well, she guessed losing your father, being made redundant and single might have something to do with it.
Connor stared her down, Harriet felt sick. She had no idea what was happening to her, what these feelings were that were pulsing through her, but she couldn’t begin to process them. She was far from ready. She might never be ready.
‘Let’s order,’ she said, quickly.
As Hilda barked, she reached down to stroke her. If only everything in life was as straightforward as animals were, then things would be so much easier.
Chapter 14
Freddie rushed through the front door, out of breath, red-faced and panting as he slammed it shut, knocking into Harriet as she was about to step outside.
‘Help,’ he shouted, as he grabbed her to maintain his balance. He then slumped against the closed door, once safely inside.
‘What the hell?’ she asked. He looked as if he was going to combust. He had clearly been running, his clothes were dishevelled, his eyes bloodshot and he wreaked of stale alcohol.
‘There, out there.’ He squeezed the words out.
Pippa and Gus appeared from upstairs to see what the commotion was.
‘What’s wrong?’ Pippa asked.
‘There’s something out there?’ Harriet asked.
‘The village, out there.’ Freddie bent over double, trying to regain some composure.
‘Freddie, slowly, tell us what’s wrong. Has someone been chasing you?’
‘They are. The villagers. We had a bit of a disagreement and they’ve formed a lynch mob … After me!’ Freddie spluttered.
‘What do you mean? Fred, you were supposed to go and meet the committee to finalise the fête details,’ Pippa said.
‘Yes.’ He nodded as his breathing started to ease, slightly. ‘Yes. I. Did.’
‘Um, Pip, why weren’t you there?’ Gus asked. Harriet was thinking the same.
‘I had a headache,’ she said, quietly. ‘I gave him my notes and thought Fred could handle it.’
Harriet swivelled to face her, Pippa looked terrible; face pale, eyes red-ringed as if she’d been crying.
Harriet sighed. For the last few weeks everything had been going swimmingly at Meadowbrook. With just under a month left until the fête, she felt that Pippa and Freddie had everything in hand. Bella had been a great help with publicity, Freddie and she worked together well – working being the operative word – and along with Pippa’s people skills they were all set for the best summer fête in the history of Meadowbrook summer fêtes. Or so she thought.
‘OK, so Freddie what did you do to the villagers?’ Harriet folded her arms.
‘I just made some suggestions,’ Freddie said, innocently. ‘But that doesn’t mean they should have chased me out of the hall. The only thing missing was pitchforks – however, that morris-dancing vicar was waving a big stick at me.’
‘Oh boy,’ Gus said, lips curling.
‘But, Fred, we went through what needed doing,’ Pippa said, sounding distraught. ‘You were just meant to finalise everything. Agree the finer details!’
‘I know, I know, Pip, but I’m not a robot, I just had some ideas—’ They were interrupted by banging on the front door. It did sound like a mob. Parker’s Hollow was a lovely village, friendly, welcoming, but also fiercely protective. Harriet knew that if anyone criticised the village they would be put in stocks, which knowing Parker’s Hollow they still had somewhere; the majority of the villagers being older and having had family in Parker’s Hollow for generations. Young families were beginning to move in, but high house prices, and the fact that once people moved there they rarely left, meant that the older generation were definitely in charge. A bit like the gardening club.
‘Hide,’ Freddie shouted, and before anyone could do anything he fled towards the kitchen.
‘Right, time for the grown-ups to handle this,’ Harriet said and, turning to Gus and Pippa, she opened the door.
There was a small but very angry group of villagers pressed up against the front door, they almost fell inside when she opened it. They were all members of the Meadowbrook fête committee, a group her father had put together to help him with the annual summer fête. They were headed by John, the leader of the morris dancers and also the local vicar, he was flanked by Hilary, his wife who was helping to organise the Meadowbrook bake-off, Edie and Margaret and Rose from the gardening club, Samuel who supervised the placing of the stalls, and a few others, some Harriet didn’t know yet. They were all a bit red-faced, having pursued Freddie from the village hall to the house. And they weren’t spring chickens, although John the vicar with all his dancing was possibly fitter than even Harriet.
‘What’s going on?’ Harriet asked. ‘Are you all all right?’ She was worried that some of them might keel over.
‘That Freddie, he’s bang out of order,’ John said. He was wearing his morris dancer white costume, and had cymbals strapped to his knees. He was still waving the stick around, quite aggressively for a vicar. Before Harriet could speak, they all started talking at once
‘OK,’ Pippa said, everyone fell silent as they looked at her. ‘Why don’t you all come in, you look like you might need to sit down, and then we can talk about it calmly.’
They didn’t need asking twice. Harriet stepped back, everyone rushed in, and Pippa ushered them into the drawing room.
‘Please, make yourselves comfortable. Shall I get some water?’ Gus asked.
‘Please, Gus, bring a big jug and some glasses,’ Harriet said. Gus nodded and left.
‘Edie, you shouldn’t have walked here, you said your hip was playing up,’ Pippa said, sounding concerned as Edie slumped onto the sofa.
‘Well, I didn’t think about it, to be honest. That brother of yours was so out of order, so we all just rushed up here. I’m a bit tired, mind,’ Edie said.
John sat down next to her, his knee cymbals crashed together. Everyone jumped.
‘Maybe I better stand,’ he said, heaving himself up.
When everyone was settled and had glasses of water, faces began to return to normal colours.
Pippa stood in front of the fireplace facing them, Harriet and Gus stood next to her.
‘Right, so one at a time, tell me what happened. John?’ Pippa asked.
‘He said that us morris dancers had to modernise our routine. He was talking about us doing our dances to Rihanna and learning to twerk. I didn’t even know what twerking was before he showed me. And it’s certainly not suitable for a family event. It’s obscene!’
‘Yes, well I can see how that might upset you,’ Pippa concurred, a smile curling at her lips. Harriet could almost hear Freddie suggesting that, as she suppressed a smile.
‘We beat sticks together, have bells on our knees and I have the cymbals.’ He bashed them together to demonstrate. Poor Samuel jumped again. ‘I ask you, twerking! We are an almost award-winning morris dancing troupe! We entered a competition and came sixth out of twelve. That’s not to be sniffed at.’
‘No, John it isn’t,’ Pippa replied.
‘Not to mention God. What would He think if we all went round shaking our bottoms?’
Harriet struggled to contain her mirth.
‘And ’e said I was too old to look after the stalls. I mean too old, I’ve done it for years!’ Samuel exclaimed. ‘I was good enough to supervise when your dad was alive.’
‘And you are now.’ Pippa smiled. ‘Samuel, ignore Freddie, you are valued and we need you for this fête.’
‘He said that the Meadowbrook bake-off had to be cakes, and they all had to be in the shape of famous people, but I had planned to do my best quiche,’ Hilary piped up. The vicar and his wife were very well matched, Harriet thought. Apart from the fact she didn’t have any instruments strapped to her, they looked fairly alike. Tall, angular, both with grey hair and glasses. But they were good people, central to the village community and John had conducted their father’s funeral after all. ‘My quiches are famous, everyone loves them and I thought we were allowed to bake what we wanted.’
Pippa opened her mouth to respond but was cut off before she had the chance by Rose.
‘Not to mention he said my tombola wasn’t good enough. He said we weren’t allowed any talc or Spam, or Old Spice gift sets as prizes, and well I have to tell you that I have collected all of them so far, and I donated the Spam myself, it always goes down a treat. He told me that I should have champagne, and caviar and something called Dippy candles.’
‘Diptyque,’ Harriet said, quickly regretting it when Rose glared at her.
‘No one’s ever complained about my tombola before.’ Rose looked close to tears. ‘I’ve been running it for years and it’s always a big hit.’
‘Right, well let’s address each point,’ Pippa said. Harriet was trying and failing not to find it amusing. She could just imagine her loose cannon of a brother trying to turn the Meadowbrook summer fête into a Chelsea event.
‘Oh and he wants us to get girls in bikinis to sell the raffle tickets,’ Edie said. ‘And I can’t possibly wear a bikini at my age, neither can Mary or Doris,’ she pointed at the two women Harriet hadn’t yet met, ‘although I was a bit keen to have a go at the twerking.’ Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet noticed Gus’s eyes twinkling.
‘And he also said my coconut shy would make more money if a girl wore a coconut bra and hula skirt. I don’t even know where I’d get one of those,’ a man Harriet didn’t recognise said. ‘I’m Gerry by the way,’ he said, coming over to them and shaking their hands. ‘I’m fairly new to the village, only lived here for ten years, but I ran the coconut shy for your father for the last five years, I did.’ Gerry looked about sixty, so fairly young among the other villagers, and was well dressed and well spoken. Harriet fleetingly wondered if he’d met Gwen. She shook her head, she must stop trying to matchmake everyone. She knew she was only doing it so she didn’t focus on herself, but all the same, she wasn’t sure Gwen would welcome it.
‘OK, well I am so sorry, all of you, that my brother, Freddie, upset you. Firstly, he has no right to tell you what to do. Yes, we are organising the fête, but only with you being fully involved. It’s a community event, a village event, and it’s important to us, as I’ve said before, that Parker’s Hollow is all on board with everything,’ Pippa said.
Harriet grinned, she sounded impressive, confident and in control. The group began to look a little less disgruntled and a little less likely to collapse.
‘John, you do what you do best, you are, as you say, nearly one of the best morris dancing troupes in the country, so we trust you. No, of course you don’t need Rihanna or twerking.’ Pippa grinned. ‘I remember the fêtes from when I was a child, before they were even held here at Meadowbrook, and I always loved them, the tradition is so important. You all keep that tradition alive and that is what we will continue to do.’
‘So we just carry on as we were?’ Rose asked.
‘Yes. Same with all of you. No one will tell you what to do from now on. If you want to discuss anything, then I am here, but we aren’t making any major changes, and please, can we just pretend today never happened. After all it’s only a month until the event and we really do need to try to pull together. I’m here to support you, so anything you need, please come to me,’ Pippa said, sincerely.
‘What about Freddie?’ Hilary asked.
‘Right, well he has been suffering terribly from missing Dad,’ Pippa explained. Harriet thought she was right, a combination of a failed business, losing Dad, drinking too much and Loretta was the cause of him being an out-of-control nightmare. ‘He’s very sad, full of grief, but don’t worry we’ll talk to him.’
‘Oh, poor Freddie, it’s like Hamlet all over again,’ Edie said. ‘I said to you didn’t I, he’s so pale and always looks like he’s seen a ghost. Oh my!’ Edie looked quite excited. ‘Maybe he saw a ghost of your father and it made him mad with grief. I said, Rose, didn’t I? That poor boy looks like he’s haunted.’
‘You did, Edie, you did,’ Rose concurred.
‘Ladies, there’s no such thing as ghosts,’ John the vicar pointed out. ‘And anyway, if he is feeling like Hamlet then we need to support him, because he might challenge me to a duel next.’
‘Well I’m pretty sure that won’t happen,’ Gus pointed out. ‘He is full of grief, but I’m not sure we can compare him to Hamlet.’
Harriet didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
‘That’s settled it.’ John bashed his knees together again, making the ladies jump. ‘We’ll all rally to make this the best fête ever, and support Freddie in his hour of need.’
The villagers nodded vigorously in agreement. It was more than an hour of need, Harriet thought.
‘Right, well that’s all fabulous,’ Pippa said. ‘Now, would anyone like a lift back, Gus can take some of you.’
‘Oh yes please,’ Edie said. ‘That twerking’s played havoc with my hip.’
Gus was dispatched with some of the ladies, all who seemed to be vying to sit next to him in the front passenger seat, the others, pacified, all set off back to the village – John’s cymbals were still clanging as he walked down the drive.
‘Why aren’t there any younger people on the fête committee?’ Harriet asked. ‘I know the village is dominated by the silver-hair brigade but I thought some of the younger members of the village might get involved.’
‘We do have quite a few participating though, don’t worry. Especially the bake-off, it’s become fashionable with a group of yummy mummies who are all taking part. But you know most of these guys have known us all our lives, and they are the heart of the village. We need to take care of them, like we would have wanted for our father.’
Harriet put her arm around Pippa.
‘You are definitely the good sister.’
‘Shall we go and find Freddie and see what possessed him to try to get the morris dancers to twerk.’
‘I guess it’s wrong but I would so have paid to see that,’ Harriet laughed.
Freddie was at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. Gwen was sitting opposite him, looking concerned.
‘Right, explain yourself,’ Harriet said, sharply. ‘Half the village were after your blood. The village fête could have been a disaster.’
Freddie looked upset.
‘I may have had a few drinks before the meeting.’
Harriet studied her youngest brother. They were all aware, since moving back to Meadowbrook, how much Freddie was drinking but normally only in the evening. Yes, she had caught him passed out by the swimming pool that one time, but he was Freddie. The partying, fun one of the family. And although she thought, privately, that he drank too much, she had put it down to
his business falling apart and losing Dad. After all she had been through, she wanted to drink herself into a stupor most nights, so she could hardly blame him. But he clearly was using drink as a crutch and something would need to be done about it if he continued this way.
‘Why? Why would you do that?’ Pippa asked, she still sounded annoyed, in the sweetest way.
‘Things are getting a bit on top of me, to be totally honest. Moving here, losing Dad, feeling lost, and then Loretta … She wants me to settle down a bit and when she says that it freaks me out.’
‘But why?’
‘I don’t know, I can’t explain it, I just feel out of my depth. But, I promise I’ll drink less, and I’ll apologise to the fête committee. I’ll do everything properly but don’t try to make me make sense of it because I can’t.’ Freddie put his head in his hands and his body shuddered; he was crying. Harriet couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him upset, even at the funeral he’d been cracking jokes.
‘Oh, Fred, I’m sorry.’ She sat next to him and put her arms around him.
‘I miss Dad. He always knew what to do and I never listened to him, but if he was here now, I would.’
Tears filled Gwen’s eyes, they streamed down Pippa’s cheeks, Harriet felt emotions choking her. It was all such a mess still. And they were all grieving, sometimes she forgot they were in the grip of grief, but then there were the ugly reminders.
‘It’ll be OK,’ Harriet said, and she fervently hoped it would be.
Gus walked in, then stopped as the saw them all.
‘Old ladies delivered home,’ he said, carefully.
‘Thanks, Gus,’ Pippa stuttered. Gus’s eyes trailed to each of his siblings, finally resting on Harriet.
‘I wish the old man was here,’ Gus said, as his voice choked up.
‘Me too,’ Harriet added.
‘Me three,’ Freddie said.
‘And me four,’ Pippa finished.
Chapter 15
Harriet had just climbed off the treadmill when her phone beeped. She looked – it was a text from Connor asking if she could help him at the sanctuary as soon as possible. It was only seven in the morning, but Connor was at the place most days at the crack of dawn. She not only admired his passion but she was beginning to share it too; it had definitely gotten to her. She quickly typed back that she was on her way, she didn’t stop to change, or even to look at how sweaty she was. As she jogged over, she sent Pippa a quick message saying she wouldn’t be at breakfast and then, picking up the pace, she went to find Connor.
A Year at Meadowbrook Manor Page 14