A Year at Meadowbrook Manor

by Faith Bleasdale

  ‘Have you posted all those photos on Facebook?’ Harriet asked.

  ‘Instagram, Auntie Harry. Facebook is for old people,’ Fleur replied.

  ‘’Course it is,’ Freddie agreed. ‘Talking of old people, where’s Mark?’

  ‘Fred, shut up,’ Pippa replied. ‘He went back to Cheltenham, he wasn’t feeling well, and he didn’t want to put a dampener on our evening.’

  ‘That was nice of him,’ Harriet said carefully. Her feelings for Mark were becoming more mixed. At times he was charming but, lately, the mask seemed to be slipping and she wasn’t sure who exactly her sister’s husband was.

  ‘You’ve got to admit he was a bit weird today, at the fête, one minute acting as if he was the Lord of the Manor, and the next face like thunder,’ Freddie pointed out, echoing Harriet’s thoughts.

  ‘He wasn’t feeling well, but he was trying his best to support me. Honestly, Freddie, I wish you’d make more of an effort with him,’ Pippa said, crossly.

  ‘Well I thought that Hector was a nice young man,’ Gwen said, diffusing things. ‘I mean, a bit orange if I’m honest, but apparently that’s all the rage, so he told me, and those jeans were so tight you’d have trouble getting a shoehorn down them, but all in all I liked him.’

  Harriet had no words.

  ‘Well, I think we need to thank the village fête committee,’ Pippa said, the threatened row with Freddie thankfully aborted.

  ‘Why don’t we invite them all to dinner here?’ Freddie suggested. ‘We can get the good wine out, have a nice meal.’

  ‘Which I expect you want Gwen to cook,’ Harriet pointed out, still worried about the workload. ‘And can we afford it? I mean, I know we have access to enough wine to last us for a hundred years – well not at Freddie’s rate, but you know what I mean, and also the food is taken care of, but I’m not sure our allowances stretch to entertaining.’

  ‘I know, I mean I thought that I wouldn’t need money, not living here and being fed and watered, or wined, but actually the pittance we get doesn’t go anywhere, does it?’ Gus said. Harriet agreed with him. They were still spoilt, lucky and indulged, but when it came to buying anything, they really had to stop and think for the first time in ages. Last week she had been to the pharmacy and her whole allowance had gone on essential toiletries and she was no longer able to use her usual brands. Oh she knew she was still luckier than so many people, but it was making her think about how frivolous she was with money before, which may have been her father’s point.

  ‘I would love that,’ Gwen said, going back to the proposed dinner party. ‘This village is so important to Meadowbrook and the sanctuary, not to mention your father, and it’s been a while since I’ve done a big dinner. And I think we can do it without spending any of your allowances.’ She smiled.

  ‘Will everyone fit at the table?’ Connor asked. ‘There’s quite a lot of people.’

  ‘Ah, you don’t recall Dad’s magic table?’ Gus asked.

  ‘It expands to seat twenty. Dad had it made when he first bought the house, he said Mummy loved having dinner parties. We never used it after she died,’ Harriet explained, quietly.

  ‘Then it’ll be good to use it now. You invite everyone and just tell me what you want me to cook.’ Gwen glowed at the idea.

  ‘I just hope Vicar John doesn’t turn up in his morris-dancing outfit,’ Freddie said.

  They all thought he probably would, cymbals and all.

  Chapter 18

  ‘Pip, can I talk to you?’ Harriet said, grabbing her sister after breakfast. It was Friday, the day of the dinner for the village fête committee to say thank you for all their hard work.

  It was almost a month since the fête, they were nearing the end of September, but it was the first date that everyone was available. As Freddie said, for a bunch of old people the fête committee had very busy social lives. Not like the Singers, who barely had any social life at all. The occasional trip to the Parker’s Arms was the social event of Harriet’s life. She and her siblings tried to go once a week, which was pretty much all they could afford. Steve and Issy, the landlord and landlady, had almost become friends now, and Harriet loved the community spirit she felt when she walked in there. In New York going out was so anonymous. Beautiful people wanting to be seen, or her and Zach trying hard not to be seen. Nothing as friendly, warm or comfortable as going to the village pub. It might not be as glamorous, but to Harriet it was so much more real than her old life had been. She was beginning to feel more real too. Not necessarily happier though. That still eluded her. And now Harriet had a problem.

  ‘Sure, what it is?’ Pippa smiled, in her good-natured way, as Harriet practically dragged her into their father’s study.

  ‘You know how I don’t have any money.’

  ‘Well none of us do really do we? I mean, you’d think Dad’s allowance would be plenty living here, but I had to give my money to Mark this week.’

  ‘Why?’ Harriet asked, sidetracked from her own disaster briefly.

  ‘He needed petrol and he lost his bank card so had no access to cash.’

  ‘Right.’ It made no sense to her, but she had bigger fish to fry. She had decided she wanted to look her best for this dinner. No, she needed to. ‘Pip, I’ve got grey hair.’

  ‘OK. Well, yes I can see your roots are a bit …’ Pippa grimaced.

  ‘I normally have my hair coloured every six weeks, it’s been months and now I’m going properly grey.’ She sounded hysterical. ‘Not only that but my hair is a mess.’ How could she not have noticed this before? Had she let her looks slide that much? Yes, she clearly had.

  ‘Well, it’s not that bad.’

  ‘Pippa, what am I going to do? I have twenty pounds to my name and I’m pretty sure that no hairdresser will do anything for that sort of money.’

  ‘No, they probably won’t. I see what you mean.’ Pippa suddenly beamed. ‘I know, I’ll do it.’

  ‘You’ll do my hair? Was one of your many courses a hairdressing one?’

  ‘No, don’t be silly, but we can get one of those home dye kits, everyone uses them, and I can give you a trim. After all, I cut Mark’s hair.’

  ‘Oh God, how the mighty have fallen.’

  ‘Bloody hell this thing is heavy,’ Connor huffed, as he and Gus, supervised by Freddie and Gwen, heaved the extra leaves to insert into the table.

  ‘We did it.’ Gus gave Connor a triumphant high-five as they slotted the last piece in. They then slumped down on chairs.

  ‘No time for that,’ Gwen said. ‘We need to get this table set.’

  ‘I’ll help with that,’ Harriet said, ‘the boys look as if they need water, or a paramedic or something.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Freddie said.

  ‘That’s because you didn’t do anything.’

  There were going to be nineteen people altogether for dinner, including the Singers, Mark, Loretta, Connor, Gwen, Amanda and Bella. The only absent family member was Fleur who had her best friend’s birthday sleepover to go to and no one, not even Harry and Zayn, could compete with that. Although if they’d done as Edie requested and managed to get Hector to come that may have done the trick.

  Gwen had reluctantly agreed to letting Harriet and Pippa help her with the dinner party. And that was only because Harriet pointed out she was joining the dinner and it would be too much to serve and clear up as well as dine with them on her own. Gwen really didn’t like to accept help – getting her to agree took Harriet’s most persuasive negotiating skills and left her exhausted.

  For the dinner Harriet had again taken a step back, letting Pippa and Freddie take charge. She was trying to be less controlling, a tiny bit more laid-back even. When she spoke to Mimi in New York now, she didn’t even feel the urgency to jump on a plane as she had done in the early days. Yes she missed her, and her other friends, and the job, or the way the job made her feel, but she was also beginning to embrace life here. It was as if she was two different people and she wasn’t sure which one wa
s the forever Harriet, or if either of them were.

  And, of course, she had the challenge of the sanctuary to deal with. It might not be quite the knife-edge job she was used to, but now they were a few months into their year already and she was aware that they had a lot to do to fulfil their father’s terms. The fête had raised just short of five-thousand pounds, which was an amazing achievement, although that included Hector’s money and the subsequent donations that his publicity generated. However, along with regular collecting tins and other fundraising bits and pieces they still had a long way to go. Harriet was beginning to panic, because it seemed like such a long haul. She was planning on spending the weekend reviewing fundraising ideas; clearly they needed to up their game.

  She dressed carefully for dinner. It was nice to make the effort, which was so rare these days. Pippa and the hair dye they bought from the chemist hadn’t done a bad job. She actually wondered why she felt she needed to spend so much as it didn’t look that different from when she spent hundreds of dollars.

  There was a knock on her bedroom door.

  ‘Come in,’ she shouted.

  The door opened slowly and Gus poked his head round.

  ‘Oh you look nice,’ he said.

  ‘Thanks, I was going for something a bit more than nice,’ Harriet retorted. She was wearing a designer black dress, long, fitted at the top, flowing at the bottom. She had put on a pair of her favourite heels and clipped her hair back on one side with a diamanté hair slide, and she felt glamorous. Yes, it might have been a bit too dressy for a dinner party at home, but she didn’t know when the hell else she would get to wear it. Not to feed the ponies, that was for sure.

  ‘It’s a beautiful dress.’ Gus smiled. ‘But you’re my sister, so nice is probably the best I can offer you. But do I look all right?’

  Harriet studied her brother. He was wearing a tailored suit but no tie, which suited him, he looked smart but not as if he was going to the office, and more trendy than an insurance salesman. He was less uptight than usual. As she studied his face, she realised he looked young too, handsome. Better than she had seen him in a long while, actually.

  ‘Very nice, but why are you worried about what you’re wearing?’ She thought, having almost overheard his conversation with the pigs, that it was for Amanda’s sake but she didn’t want to let on.

  ‘I’m not,’ he replied quickly. ‘But you know, this dinner, I know the ladies coming from the gardening club are making an effort, they’ve been telling me about getting their best dresses out all week, so I didn’t want to let them down.’ Even though his confidence seemed to be growing by the day, the insecurity was still there at times.

  ‘You look great,’ Harriet said and gave him a reassuring hug. ‘And your ladies love you, so I really don’t think you need to worry.’

  Freddie was mixing drinks in the drawing room when Harriet and Gus walked in together. Loretta was sitting on the sofa, trying to look demure, but in a dress so tight Harriet was sure she could count her ribs, she was failing. She gave her a kiss on the cheek. After she got over her comments on the house, Harriet quite liked Loretta, although they didn’t spend that much time together. Her stories of the fashion industry fascinated her. She was still a little bit confused as to her and Freddie’s relationship, but only because they seemed so different, but that might just be Harriet being a snob. After all Loretta was so good-looking, what man wouldn’t want to date her?

  Pippa was wearing a smart but very middle-aged shift dress with kitten heels, pearls at her neck and her hair swept up and off her face. She looked lovely as she always did, if not a little old-fashioned and different to the style she adopted during the week. Weekend Pippa dressed very differently, and Harriet found it puzzling. Mark had opted for a suit with a tie and since the summer fête had gone back to being his usual charming self. Harriet thought maybe he was just ill and she vowed to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, neither Pippa nor Freddie gave her any reason to think they weren’t happy in their relationships, so who was she to judge?

  ‘Right, try these.’ Freddie handed out drinks, some kind of vodka-based cocktail.

  Harriet took a sip. ‘Bloody hell,’ she said. They were good but strong.

  ‘Listen, Fred, put some more mixer in or the oldies from the village won’t even make dinner, actually not sure even I will,’ Gus instructed and went to help Freddie dilute the cocktails to a safer level.

  ‘How are you, Loretta?’ Mark asked.

  ‘Yeah, pretty good actually. Nice to see you again, Mark, you all right?’ Loretta shrieked.

  ‘Yes, I’m very well thank you.’ Harriet liked the fact they made such an odd pairing. Mark, charming, traditional and a little uptight, and Loretta, gorgeous, sexy and uninhibited. Mark always blushed when he spoke to her, but Loretta didn’t notice as she flashed her long legs at him.

  When Connor escorted Gwen into the room, Harriet could almost hear her own sharp intake of breath. He was wearing smart trousers and a shirt, and he looked incredible. She couldn’t help herself weaken, as she let him kiss her cheek.

  Everyone greeted each other and then, with Freddie’s safer cocktails in their hands, they waited for the rest of their guests.

  Bella and Amanda arrived at the same time. Bella looked pretty in a floral dress, wholesome with her short hair held off her face with an Alice band – she had an old-fashioned look about her. Amanda had also definitely scrubbed up well. Her long red hair hung down her back, she was wearing a trouser suit and she had make-up on. Harriet had always thought she was attractive, but tonight she looked stunning. She could see why Gus had fallen for her, even though he hadn’t told her as such.

  Introductions were made, Harriet noticed Gus flush with pleasure when he gave Amanda a kiss on the cheek. Shortly after, the village fête committee arrived en masse, led by John, who wasn’t wearing his morris-dancing outfit, but a normal grey suit. Harriet felt irrationally disappointed.

  They were all welcomed into the drawing room, cocktails were distributed, and as the older guests sat down, they all started chatting excitedly.

  Samuel was sat next to Loretta and he seemed quite smitten with her as he proudly told her how many stalls he had erected in his time.

  ‘Oh well unfortunately I couldn’t come to the thingy,’ Loretta said. ‘I had to do a weekend cleanse for a modelling job.’

  ‘What’s a weekend cleanse?’ Hilary asked. She was wearing a suit which was similar to her husband’s, although with a skirt rather than trousers.

  ‘You don’t eat, but drink juice and have colonic irrigation,’ Loretta explained.

  ‘What’s colonic irrigation?’ John asked.

  ‘They stick something up your bum and—’

  ‘Right, well that’s all lovely but perhaps we should go through for dinner,’ Pippa said quickly. Freddie was almost doubled over with laughter and Connor was staring very intently at the curtains.

  As Loretta stood up to take Freddie’s outstretched arm, she managed to give a bit of a flash of her crotch, and no, she wasn’t wearing knickers. Harriet rushed to Samuel’s side, he looked as if he was going to collapse.

  ‘I’ve never seen one like that,’ he said to Harriet, shaking his head. ‘Not in all my years.’

  The table looked spectacular, if she did say so herself. Although Gwen deserved most of the credit. The two silver candelabras were lit, the cutlery glinted and gleamed. Vases bursting with short-stemmed roses were dotted along the table, giving off a heady aroma. Heavy crystal glasses were laid out, for both red and white wine and water.

  ‘Wow,’ Margaret said as she saw the table. ‘This is beautiful.’

  ‘You did this for us?’ Dawn asked.

  ‘I’ve never seen a dinner table this beautiful,’ Gerry added.

  Gwen beamed.

  ‘We did it for you all.’ Harriet smiled, feeling warm towards their guests.

  ‘We did,’ Pippa said, bursting with pride. ‘So, let’s all sit down and enjoy a
lovely dinner.’

  Freddie and Pippa had put out name places and Harriet wished she hadn’t trusted them with it. Or at least she could have come in and changed them round. She was wedged between Samuel, who still hadn’t recovered from Loretta’s flashing, and Gerry, who had Gwen on his other side. And the first thing Samuel told her was that she was sitting next to his bad ear so she’d have to shout. She was further annoyed that Connor was at the other end of the table to her, wedged in between Bella and Loretta who was already making him laugh.

  ‘Right,’ Freddie said, standing up. He had taken the position at the head of the table, Pippa was at the other end to him, as tonight’s hosts that seemed appropriate. ‘We are here because of the success of the summer fête and that is down to everyone in this room. Well, not quite everyone, Mark, you did nothing, Loretta was too busy starving herself to come, but everyone else played a crucial part.’ He paused and laughed.

  ‘What Freddie is supposed to be saying is that we’d like to welcome you here tonight to say a big thank you for your help and support with the fête, for making it the success it was; Mark did help, he supported me and Loretta supported you, so anyway, we are looking forward to building on it in years to come,’ Pippa finished. Everyone clapped and the starters arrived.

  ‘Shall I say grace?’ John asked. And before anyone could reply he did just that.

  ‘Amen,’ the table echoed before they started eating. Harriet couldn’t remember the last time she’d said grace – school, of course.

  ‘So, we thought tonight would be a good time to talk to you about our next idea,’ Pippa said. ‘We want to do something at Christmas and we’d like you all to be involved.’

  ‘First I’ve heard of it,’ Gus said. Harriet was in the same boat.

  ‘The idea is to create a winter wonderland here, possibly over a weekend. Connor, we thought we could get the ponies to act as reindeer to pull a small sleigh, we’d get fake snow and the villagers could all come, have a mince pie, mulled wine and carols.’

  ‘Is it a bit ambitious, do you think?’ Gerry asked. ‘I mean, fake snow … where do we even get that?’