Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor

by Faith Bleasdale

  Gemma was wide-eyed with something between horror and amusement.

  ‘Although we have heard that they are trying to open Meadowbrook Manor as a hotel,’ he added.

  Gemma wasn’t sure she would have rushed in with that, but hey.

  ‘Oh, you’ve heard about that?’ Charles asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Gemma said. ‘It sounds awful,’ she managed.

  ‘Yes, we’ve heard there are going to be sex parties and all sorts going on. The village won’t stand for it.’ Freddie puffed. He was really in character.

  ‘Yes, I’m pleased that you know all about what they’re up to. Do you know the Singers?’ Charles asked, but carried on before waiting for an answer. ‘Well between you, me and the kitchen sink, the family are clueless. They think they can just open a hotel, but we’ve got the whole village behind us, so it’s not going to happen.’

  ‘Us, who’s us?’ Gemma asked.

  ‘Oh, well you know, it’s just a figure of speech.’ He looked shifty.

  ‘Why does it matter to you if they do open a hotel?’ Gemma pushed, but Charles stood up to leave.

  ‘I really must get back to work. Right, well lovely to meet you …?’

  ‘Spencer and Joan Rivers,’ Freddie said with a smile.

  Gemma choked on her wine as Charles got up.

  ‘Why does every man my sister falls for want to ruin us?’ Freddie asked when they were alone again. ‘And not only that, but he’s also bloody married.’ He shook his head.

  ‘Do you think it’s conclusive that it was them?’

  Just as she felt confident, she was now riddled with doubts – it was hardly a confession, after all.

  ‘He was so shifty and his face lit up when I mentioned the fact the village wouldn’t stand for it. I’m pretty sure he must be involved in some way and that means Edward too. Ah good, dinner.’

  A waitress delivered two steaks, which looked so charred that Gemma couldn’t even face trying to eat.

  ‘And, Gemma, you said they couldn’t ruin a steak. Right, there’s a pub down the road, I think – let’s go and get a drink, and a packet of crisps,’ Freddie suggested as he called for the bill, hiding the uneaten steaks in a napkin.

  ‘Can’t we just go home?’

  ‘No, Malcolm has morris-dancing practice, so he can’t pick us up until the allotted time.’

  ‘Course he can’t.’ Gemma shook her head.

  Having a drink turned out to be a good idea. Gemma, terrified about how poor Pippa would feel when they told her, needed some Dutch courage, and Freddie kept her entertained with Meadowbrook stories. She found his company easy, after the initial awkwardness, but that was probably the double vodkas on a mainly empty stomach. He made her laugh the way no one else had ever done before. When he wasn’t being mean to her, that is.

  The evening flew by and when Freddie took her arm to go and meet the cab, she found herself feeling oddly disappointed. They made their way up the high street back to the front of the hotel, when Gemma suddenly saw Edward getting out of his car, whistling and swinging his car keys.

  ‘Freddie, Edward’s there, he might see us!’ she panicked.

  Freddie looked around for something to hide behind, but there was nothing. Just as Edward was almost upon them, Freddie grabbed her, pushed her against the wall and kissed her, ensuring both their faces were obscured.

  ‘That was close,’ he said as he pulled away.

  Gemma put her hand out to steady herself against the wall. Her knees buckled, and she felt sensations that she had no idea how to identify. She had never been kissed like that before. She tried to slow her breathing; she could barely stand.

  ‘Gemma, are you all right?’ Freddie asked.

  ‘A little too much vodka,’ Gemma mumbled, barely able to get the words out. Her head was spinning, her heart beating out of her chest, and her legs were still like jelly.

  She was saved by Malcolm’s arrival.

  Gemma was glad that Freddie sat in the front of the car, so she could try to collect herself in the back. As the two men chattered easily, Gemma slowed her breath, feeling her body heat return to somewhere near normal temperature.

  As they got back to Meadowbrook, Freddie once again held the car door open for her.

  ‘Only one thing left to do now,’ he said, looking at her with his deep blue eyes.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  Part of her wondered if he was going to kiss her again. She was horrified to find that she wanted him to.

  He grinned impishly. ‘Decide which one of us is going to tell Pippa the bad news.’

  Chapter 24

  Gemma almost felt sorry for Edward. A week after her and Freddie’s “date” at The Darnley, he had been summoned to Meadowbrook. Somehow, Gemma had got the short straw – not a huge surprise – and Freddie had happily let her break the news to Pippa. First, she addressed her concerns regarding Edward’s parents visiting, then before Pippa could throw any objections, she brought up the wife, and finally the man from John’s picture. All in all, it seemed inarguable, and Pippa hadn’t even tried. But she had been upset and Gemma felt awful.

  Pippa and Harriet had spent quite a lot of time holed up together, Harriet clearly worried about the effect this would have on Pippa’s confidence. Although Harriet told Gemma she had done a good job, she clearly felt it was her job to pick up the pieces. Pippa was fine with Gemma, but she did feel irrationally excluded, and if she was honest, jealous. When Pippa explained how wonderful Harriet was being, Gemma felt a pang. She didn’t know why, but the more she was trying to stay on the outskirts, the more she wanted in. And she was slightly worried that Pippa blamed her somewhat. Their relationship hadn’t soured, but she was spending more time with her sister.

  Also, since the “date”, her relationship with Freddie had become infuriatingly confusing. He treated her exactly the same as he always did, with a mixture of disdain, amusement, warmth and teasing, but she couldn’t help but remember the feeling of his lips on hers at the most inappropriate times. She would feel her head heat up and the emotions that it conjured up were new to her; she went to bed thinking of him and woke up annoyed with herself for still thinking about him.

  She was in the office which, although still very much Andrew Singer’s study, had become more of a working office now. Another desk had been moved in, a computer set up and as she was often, at the moment, in there alone, Gemma had grown to love the room.

  Gemma was drawn to the painting of Andrew Singer and to him. She could almost see how he could have had such influence over the family, the village and everyone he met. Apparently, even the alpacas liked him. He had a kind face but a strong one. He was a mix of all his children and at certain times, with the change in light, she saw parts of them all in his face. She found herself talking to him quite a lot – asking his advice and telling him her ideas for the hotel. If that was madness, then it wouldn’t come as any great surprise to her. She was clearly mad. Meadowbrook had made her so.

  Pippa popped her head round – she looked nervous. Gemma had learnt the tells: she was chewing her bottom lip, her face was devoid of its usual glint, and she was fidgety.

  ‘Hi.’ Gemma looked up from the desk and smiled.

  ‘He’s due any minute. Everyone’s in the drawing room. I know it might seem a bit ridiculous to have nearly everyone here but, after all, it’s about the hotel, not just me, which affects the whole family,’ she said quickly.

  ‘That’s fine, Pippa, there’s strength in numbers, and he’s bound to deny it, so the more people there are, the more likely to get the truth out of him.’ Gemma tried to sound calm. ‘And Harriet is possibly worse than the Gestapo for that.’ She laughed, and Pippa almost smiled.

  ‘Exactly, and as Harry said, if he’s intent on ruining our hotel before it opens, he might try other things, so we need to threaten him and show that he can’t push us around.’ She jutted her chin out, trying to sound more angry than sad, but she failed. ‘But then, we did draw the line at pu
tting him on the rack,’ she managed to joke.

  ‘Ha! Right, well good luck.’ Gemma smiled.

  ‘Oh no, I want you there. As my friend.’

  Gemma raised an eyebrow. She was flattered. ‘Really?’

  ‘Of course, come on then.’ Pippa took her hand and gave it a squeeze as they left the office.

  Gemma squeezed back reassuringly. Perhaps they were all going to be OK, after all.

  Harriet, Freddie and Gus were lined up on one sofa. Gemma resisted the urge to laugh – they were all wearing black, a bit like a good-looking mafia family. Gwen was sat in the biggest armchair, looking every inch the matriarch, and Gemma stood behind it – she hadn’t got the wearing black memo, unfortunately – as Pippa led Edward in.

  He was wearing a pair of chinos, and a shirt with a jumper tied around his shoulders. He wore a broad smile, and if he was surprised to see himself facing the Singer family en masse, he didn’t show it. He was composed and totally unaware of the firing squad he was about to face, it seemed.

  ‘Sit down,’ Harriet barked.

  He did so. His even features rearranged themselves into questioning ones. Pippa went over to her siblings and perched on the arm of the sofa. Gus gave her hand a squeeze.

  ‘Edward,’ Pippa started, her voice a little unsteady. ‘I asked you here today because we received some disturbing information.’ She glanced at Harriet for reassurance; she nodded. ‘Firstly, it seems you have a wife called Davina.’

  The colour drained from Edward’s face. ‘Can we talk about this alone?’ he asked Pippa.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Not only that, but it also seems that rumours have been spread throughout the village about our hotel – and those rumours, which have caused us problems, were started by your assistant, Charles someone.’

  ‘Hudson,’ Freddie added helpfully. ‘As in Rock.’

  ‘What?’ Gus asked.

  Pippa shook her head.

  ‘That’s impossible,’ Edward countered.

  He didn’t seem rattled, and Gemma wondered, briefly, if they had got it wrong.

  ‘No, it’s not impossible,’ Harriet interjected. Her voice was as harsh as Pippa’s was gentle. ‘We traced the source of the ludicrous rumours back to your assistant manager, and we can only draw the conclusion that your assistant was in cahoots with you, acting on your authority to try to ruin our hotel before we even got close to opening. And did your wife know your plan was to date Pippa as part of this whole thing?’

  ‘Now hang on—’ Edward finally coloured, but then Harriet’s voice had been as sharp as glass.

  ‘No, we won’t hang on, actually,’ Freddie interjected. ‘Why can’t you just admit it?’

  ‘I think there must have been a huge misunderstanding,’ Edward maintained. ‘Charles might have mentioned the hotel to someone, but that’s all. I shall have a word with him.’

  Although he was calm, the tips of his ears had turned red, and he was shuffling uncomfortably. Gemma was sure this was guilt in all its glory.

  ‘And your wife?’ Gemma said.

  ‘Well, she and I have been living separate lives for a while now—’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake!’ Gus threw his hands in the air. ‘Surely you don’t think we’re going to fall for that?’

  Edward looked as if he hoped they would.

  ‘That’s not going to do it, actually,’ Harriet said. ‘I don’t believe you for a start.’

  ‘Neither do I, you’re not wearing socks,’ Freddie added. They all looked at his feet; he had brogues on but no socks. ‘And I never trust a man who doesn’t wear socks.’

  Gemma glanced around, but no one seemed fazed by this statement.

  ‘Oh Jesus, of course I don’t want you to open a hotel. God, Pippa, it isn’t rocket science. You are only a few miles away from my hotel – who would welcome more competition? I’m not mad, but you clearly are,’ he said, irritated now, his usual composure slipping.

  ‘So did you get Charles to start the rumours?’ Gus asked.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, yes, but you have no idea how hard running a hotel is. It’s competitive and costly – and you just think you can swan in and open one, just like that. You’re all crazy.’

  Edward’s mask had finally fallen off. His face contorted and not one of them had any doubt about his real feelings. Poor Pippa, Gemma thought.

  ‘And the wife?’ Gwen asked. ‘Does she know about you dating Pippa?’

  ‘Of course not. Why, Pippa, do you think we always went for dinner early and I couldn’t spend the night with you?’

  ‘Because of work, you said, it was because of work and us taking things slowly. And I believed you.’

  Gemma’s heart went out to her; she sounded so upset.

  ‘What you need to understand about us—’ Harriet stood up, her voice threatening ‘—is that mad or not, if we want to do something we will do whatever it takes to do so. Our father taught us that, and we want to open a hotel. And if you think that you are any match for us, you are very much mistaken.’

  Harriet’s voice was ice cold. Gemma felt like trembling and they were on the same side.

  Edward spread his hands out. ‘This house will never be a hotel,’ he spat.

  ‘It will,’ Harriet said. ‘And trust me, if you try anything else, you will regret it. Be careful who you take on, Edward.’

  ‘We will stop at nothing,’ Freddie threatened. ‘If we so much as hear a whiff of another rumour, we’ll step in. Your wife would be a good starting point, don’t you think? Maybe your mother as well – we know your parents are here.’

  Finally, Edward did look defeated.

  ‘So,’ Gwen interjected, ‘my advice to you is to quit while you’re ahead. You need to remember who you’re dealing with and trust me, this family has seen off people far more ruthless than you. So I suggest you go and concentrate on running your hotel and leave us to ours.’

  God, she wouldn’t mess with Gwen, Gemma thought – she sounded like she meant business.

  ‘Out! Now,’ Harriet ordered in a way that made Gemma want to scarper. ‘And,’ Harriet continued as Edward made to turn away, ‘if you so much as breathe the name “Meadowbrook”, or do anything to hurt our hotel, I will make you sorry you ever set eyes on us. From now on we’ll be watching your every move.’

  Harriet ushered Edward out of the door as if she were sweeping him away. He scurried, like a rattled mouse, without looking back once. Gemma couldn’t say she blamed him – blimey, the Singers were scary when crossed.

  ‘Sorry, Pip,’ Gus said, giving his sister a hug.

  ‘Hey, at least I didn’t fall for him properly. I mean I did a bit, but God, why do I have such terrible taste in men?’

  ‘Because you always go for older pompous ones,’ Harriet said as she returned. ‘Next time choose someone your own age or younger. Preferably one riddled with insecurity and a sensible job.’

  ‘I’m never going to let any man do this to me again. I mean I said that after Mark, but this time I mean it.’

  Pippa let herself sob, and Gwen stood up and went over to her, taking her in her arms.

  ‘You listen to me, Philippa Singer. Your dad doted on you, and he tried to protect you because you had such a sweet nature. Not tough like Harry, or sensible like Gus, or super-confident like Fred, but sweet, and he worried that people would take advantage of that. But you know what? He always said he would rather you were you than you lost that lovely sweet nature that we all love. And what’s more, you have more than proved you can do this. You would have made your dad so proud, and you’ll continue to do so, and you will never stop being you, you hear me?’

  Gemma wiped a tear. Pippa nodded.

  ‘But Harry’s right, no more older arrogant men – that does have to change.’ Gwen’s mouth was set in a straight line.

  ‘Thanks, Gwen. Right, that’s it. No more men until this hotel opens. The Singers are going to open the best hotel that the Mendips has ever seen, and if The Darnley
fails it will be his own arrogant fault.’

  ‘Shall we drink to that?’ Freddie suggested.

  ‘It’s almost five, I’m sure a small sherry might be acceptable.’ Gwen’s lips curled.

  ‘Yay!’ Freddie hopped like a little boy who’d just been given sweets before dinner. He practically skipped to the drinks trolley and poured sherry for everyone. ‘I know no one actually drinks sherry anymore, but this is for Gwen,’ he said.

  ‘Let’s toast to Pippa, for learning that she is remarkable and that she can do this,’ Harriet suggested.

  Gemma sipped the sherry, which was sweet and unlike anything she had ever tasted.

  ‘By the way, Harry, how was your weekend away?’ Freddie asked. ‘I can’t believe I haven’t seen you properly since then.’

  ‘Bliss! Connor took me to a fabulously fashionable hotel, which I knew he probably hated. In London!’

  ‘Yes, Pip said.’ Freddie laughed. ‘Not an animal in sight.’

  ‘He enjoyed it, even if he won’t admit it. He loved seeing the sights, we were proper tourists, and we ate some lovely food and I enjoyed the city. But, well, he also seemed to have an ulterior motive.’

  ‘What?’ Gus asked.

  ‘He wants us to try for a baby,’ Harriet said.

  Gwen choked on her sherry.

  ‘God, sorry, Gwen, maybe he should have told you.’

  ‘He has done, and I told him I would love to be a grandmother, of course. But he said you’re not sure?’

  ‘I am sure about Connor, although we bicker a lot, but I love him and Hilda. But you know, a baby, a real baby … I’d be a crap mother.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, you’d make a lovely mum,’ Pippa breathed.

  ‘Do you think so? I’m hardly a soft, cuddly person, am I?’

  ‘You have a soft centre. Besides, you’ve got Connor for that.’ Freddie laughed again.

  ‘You were a sort of mother to all of us after Mum died,’ Gus said. ‘A role you never fully left behind. You still mother us now a bit.’

  ‘God, you’re right. I suppose I might be OK. I don’t know, but I’m not getting any younger what with my big 4-0 coming up,’ she explained.