Lots of love,
Nan.
Freddie jumped up as soon as she returned.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as tears streamed from her eyes.
‘When would you like the funeral?’ Peter Brown asked, all business as he had a massive diary laid out in front of him.
‘As soon as possible,’ Gemma replied.
She wasn’t ready to say goodbye, she never would be, but she had to and therefore she didn’t want to prolong the agony. She couldn’t wait to read the letter again, actually. It was as if her nan were still with her.
‘Don’t people need notice?’ Freddie asked.
‘There aren’t many people. I’ve not got any other family, and Nan’s friends, well some of them are still around and they’ll probably come.’
She hated the idea that the church, or rather the crematorium, would be empty, but she hoped that people who knew her nan would show up.
‘We’ve had a cancellation for Monday. It’s only a few days, but—’
‘I’ll take it.’
‘God, how do you get a funeral cancellation? Did someone get undead?’ Freddie asked.
Peter gave him a quizzical look and shook his head.
‘God, that’s a relief. I mean my biggest fear is not really being dead and then being burnt or buried alive. Gemma, promise me if I die you’ll double triple-check?’
‘Freddie, not exactly appropriate. But if I’m around I will.’ Gemma arched an eyebrow; she was somehow glad for his utter madness. It was making her feel better or if not better, distracted.
‘So Monday it is. Midday?’ He wrote in the diary.
‘Thank you. Now how do I pay? I guess you take cards?’
‘Bloody hell,’ Freddie said as she took the invoice from Peter. ‘Dying is a seriously expensive business.’
Gemma shook her head again.
‘When did you last eat?’ Freddie asked as they got into the car.
He’d brought the Range Rover that the family seemed to share; apparently, the Porsche wasn’t appropriate for a funeral parlour. That made her smile.
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. She hadn’t last night, but this morning, maybe?
‘Right, I’m taking you to lunch, no arguments. I saw a pub on the way, which looked as if it might be OK.’
They drove in silence, Gemma trying to order her thoughts, and Freddie pulled into a space outside the pub then got out. She followed him, her stomach rumbling at the idea of food. Freddie was efficient as he read the menu, and when Gemma shook her head, he ordered for them both, at the same time directing her to a table.
‘Here you go,’ he said, putting a brandy in front of her.
‘I can’t drink that!’ She was horrified.
‘You need it, for shock.’
He went back to the bar and returned with a large bottle of mineral water and two glasses. She downed the brandy and then gulped some water. She’d never get used to the taste.
‘Do you need to phone people about Monday?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I’ve got a list back at the hotel. Speaking of which, I can’t stay there forever. I know it’s a bit silly as the bungalow is empty, so I was thinking I’d buy an airbed and some bedding and go back there for now.’
‘No way. You’ll be on your own. At least in a hotel we know you can call room service, or there are people there if you need anything. Please, at least until after the funeral.’
She nodded.
‘And Pippa is feeling terrible,’ he said. ‘I know you think it’s just sympathy, but actually she misses you. Harriet keeps reminding her of what a good friend you were. Not just what you did for the hotel, but also what you did for her and the family. How you mucked in with the animals, how you got on well with the locals, the gardening club, how you got us to church and made John, the vicar, happy, how you listened to all of us drone on as well, not to mention what a hero you were in the fire.’
‘I didn’t—’
‘You did so much. You went out with me to catch Edward out – I mean it wasn’t your finest moment, but you still did it. And that speech to the village – you stood up in front of everyone and you won them round. You were really quite impressive. Everything you’ve done since being with us has showed how much you cared. You are amazing, and if Meadowbrook is ever going to be a hotel, we need you.’
‘But—’
‘No, Gemma. In these past months, you’ve become part of Meadowbrook, and this hotel, when it opens, will only open because of you. You rallied us, organised us, focused us. For goodness’ sake, I am even taking an exam because of you. If it wasn’t for you we would still be talking about it, trust me.’
‘I’m so touched you think that.’ She really was.
‘It’s not just me – Harry, Gus, Gwen, Connor, Amanda, even Charlotte said you were doing a great job and you’d helped her a lot. And of course the cats miss you too.’
‘I miss them.’ She felt so emotional about them, how she hadn’t seen them. Would Albert think she’d abandoned him?
‘Even Pippa sees it now, but not only is she stubborn, she’s also a bit embarrassed about her behaviour.’
‘But only because my nan died.’
‘She might have realised sooner because your nan died, but it’s not that. She knows deep down that you’re nothing like Mark or Edward. You might have lied to get the job, but you were helping us, not trying to rip us off, and when Gwen sensibly pointed that out to her, she realised how right we all were. Pip’s never been great at admitting she was wrong. She’s sweet, but not when she digs her heels in, trust me.’
‘Look, Freddie, that’s all great, and you know you are making me feel better. But I need to focus on the funeral right now. After that, maybe I’ll feel strong enough to see Pippa, but don’t you see, it’s not just her forgiveness I need, but I need to forgive myself? I feel so horrible for upsetting her after all she did for me. All of you, actually.’
‘I know, but you need to, because we need you back at Meadowbrook.’ He took her hand. ‘I miss you.’
She felt herself heating up. She knew he didn’t mean it in that way, but God, being around him, her feelings, her nan, it was all too much. She snatched her hand away.
‘And I want nothing more than to be there, but at the moment, please let me focus on my nan.’ She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
‘But, I would be happier if—’
‘Look, Freddie, if I promise to stay at the hotel until after the funeral, will you stop trying to get me to come to the house?’
‘Deal.’ He sighed and shook his head.
Chapter 37
She got out of the limo, which felt ridiculous for one, but it was part of the “funeral package”. Which made her giggle irrationally and think of a meal deal. You get a coffin, a funeral and a car, all in one. Since the last visit to the funeral home, Gemma had been experiencing weird and unwelcome moments of euphoria, in which she just found everything funny as if she were drunk. She googled it, because Gemma didn’t like being out of control, but apparently it was a normal part of grief, which fascinated and horrified her in equal measure. The old Gemma couldn’t bear feeling out of control of her feelings, but the new one was more accepting of it. Actually, the new one had no bloody choice.
She still couldn’t quite believe that nan was gone – it didn’t seem real. She had said it out loud on the phone to countless people, she had registered the death officially, she had told the bank, the estate agent, anyone else who she needed to inform – she had been given power of attorney when her nan got sick, so she had to tell the solicitor – and all these details kept her busy.
She had tried to keep all the Singers at arm’s-length. They seemed to check on her on a rota. First Harriet, then Freddie, and Gus or Amanda. She knew they meant well, but …
She shouted at Harriet – look how far she’d come – and told her she didn’t need her feeling sorry for her. Whe
n Harriet laughed and said she didn’t, she simply wanted her to ‘come back to work so she could stop playing at hotels.’ Gemma apologised and said she would like nothing more. She missed Meadowbrook more than she thought possible. Freddie kept checking she was eating, and she told him to bugger off, which, irritatingly, he said he liked. Gus and Amanda she was nicer to – she cried when Amanda spoke to her, and said that she was fine but just very, very sad.
There was still no word from Pippa.
The hotel room was beginning to close in on her; although, weirdly, it felt a bit like home now. She’d had deliveries of flowers (Charlotte), cakes (Gwen) and cards from the gardening club, which had made her so emotional. There was no getting away from Meadowbrook. She didn’t realise what a part of it she was, or what a part of her it had become. It was her community, she realised, and it was so important to her, but it had taken her losing it to see all that.
Harriet had visited the previous night to bring her a black dress, her heels and a jacket in case it was cold. She’d insisted they eat dinner together in the hotel restaurant, and although Gemma had struggled to eat, she had been glad of the company. Harriet had reluctantly left her, after making her eat at least half her meal, and then she’d gone to bed, feeling alone again.
Gemma was so grateful that they cared about her, surprised and grateful, but she wanted Pippa. She missed her friend so much. Her smile, her kind words, her gushing chatter about everything and nothing. She would have given anything for that right now. It was funny how reluctant she had been to let Pippa get close to her, yet now life felt wrong without her in it. She had never had a friend like that before – actually, she’d never had friends like Harriet, Freddie and Gus either – but it was Pippa she wanted to see. She needed her forgiveness; she needed her friendship.
Now, standing alone under an umbrella on a rainy September day, she looked at the hearse that carried her nan’s body, and loneliness enveloped her. People started arriving, giving her no time for despair – this was for her nan, not her. The staff of the post office, both past and present, arrived, as well as Marian, Sarah and a few others from the residential home. Mr and Mrs Glover from next door stopped on the way in to reassure her the bungalow hadn’t been burgled, not that there was anything left there to take. There were volunteers from the local charity shop, where her nan worked before she got sick, and even the owner of the fish and chip shop where they got their takeaway from on Fridays. A few more of her nan’s old friends arrived, and Gemma felt her heart swell. These people were all here for her nan, but she still couldn’t help but think that no one was here for her.
Peter Brown glanced at his watch. ‘A few minutes, now,’ he said.
Gemma nodded and thought about the fact she would walk in behind the coffin on her own, as tears stung her eyes and her legs began to feel like jelly. A cacophony of car engines interrupted her self-indulgence and then she heard shouting.
‘I told you we’d be late, Fred,’ Harriet shouted.
‘I couldn’t find my shoes,’ he shouted back.
‘Who loses their shoes? Apart from a child,’ Gus replied.
‘For goodness’ sake, shush, it’s a funeral,’ Gwen snapped.
Wondering if she could trust her ears, the Meadowbrook minibus appeared, and Gemma was startled as John, the vicar, got out of the driver’s seat, and various members of the gardening club and the fête committees emerged. Gemma blinked, but they seemed real as John helped Samuel out.
‘Oh, my dear Gemma,’ Edie said, rushing up to her and hugging her warmly. ‘We’re so sorry, and we had to come and pay our respects. Well we did, but I think Samuel thinks it’s a day trip to the seaside.’
‘This doesn’t look very much like the seaside,’ Samuel shouted from under a straw hat.
John and Hilary shushed him.
‘Gemma, we are very sorry for your loss. I would have been happy to do the service, but I appreciate your nan didn’t know me, so I shan’t take offence.’
‘Um, thank you?’ Gemma replied uncertainly.
One by one, they hugged her and went inside. She felt choked; she couldn’t believe they had come to support her. Well, apart from Samuel, who was asking when he’d get an ice cream.
‘Gemma, are you holding up?’ Harriet asked, giving her a brisk hug. ‘You look lovely, by the way.’
‘Just about,’ her voice cracked.
Gwen squeezed her, and she felt the tears burst forth. Then Connor kissed her wet cheek, as did Gus and Amanda. Finally, Freddie appeared, dishevelled, tucking his shirt in as he walked.
‘Sorry, I couldn’t find my good shoes,’ he said, giving her a quick kiss. ‘Charlotte is sorry not to be here, but one of those children things of hers is ill,’ he explained. ‘Not that we’re together anymore, did you know that—’
Peter Brown coughed.
‘Oh God, we’d better go in,’ Harriet said. ‘Can I say God?’
‘It’s not a church,’ Gus pointed out.
‘Hurry up, Pip,’ Harriet shouted and to Gemma’s amazement, Pippa appeared from behind the Range Rover.
‘Oh, Gem, I am so sorry,’ Pippa said, grabbing Gemma and hugging her in the warmest hug ever.
‘No, I’m sorry.’ Gemma’s tears continued to fall.
‘This isn’t the time,’ Pippa said. ‘You did what you did for the right reasons. I sort of understand that, but today is about you and your nan. And I’m here to support you. As your friend.’
‘Thank you.’ Gemma felt herself shaking. Relief, sadness, fear, guilt and a sparkle of hope.
‘And we miss you, and we need you at Meadowbrook. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you, but I’m stubborn, and I hate admitting I was wrong, but I was wrong, and I’m ashamed of how I behaved. Oh, Gem, can you forgive me?’
‘No, I was wrong,’ Gemma said. ‘I’ve never had a friend like you before.’
‘Well you still have a best friend if you want her, although that does make us sound about six years old!’ Pippa laughed, but Gemma saw the tears in her eyes.
Gemma nodded, too full of emotion to speak.
‘There’s so much I want to know, but anyway, that can come later. The main thing is will you come back?’
‘Yes, please.’ Gemma laughed through the tears.
‘Fantastic, and also, as your friend, would you like me to walk with you? Behind the coffin. You know, just in case you keel over or something?’ Her lips curled in a smile.
‘I really would like that very much,’ she replied.
She got through the funeral with Pippa by her side and the Singers all around her. The songs Gemma had chosen were all sung loudly, especially by John. She decided that she would speak, and of course after the village meeting at Meadowbrook, it didn’t feel so daunting – the only thing she was worried about was whether or not she would do justice to her nan.
‘Thank you all so much for coming,’ she said, clearing her voice and wiping away a stray tear.
‘Speak up!’ Samuel shouted.
Gemma almost laughed.
‘Nan, Sue, would have been touched to see you all here. She was a special woman with an unusual life. She lost her husband young, to cancer, and I hope she’s with him now. And then my mother left, so she had to bring me up on her own, probably at a time in her life when she was ready to enjoy more freedom. But never once did she ever complain, or at least not to me.’
Gemma paused, and she heard the audience laugh. She looked at Freddie who was giving her a thumbs-up.
‘And she was the best mother/nan I could have asked for. She was sensible, practical even, and she loved me very much. She did everything to make me feel secure, and if I didn’t, which I often didn’t, it wasn’t her, it was me. She tried so hard to get me to believe in myself, and I realise now that it was only fear that stopped me from doing so.
‘She really was a special, wonderful woman, taken by a cruel illness, long before now, and I hope that she is now at peace. I want to say that she goes with love, and gratitude,
and she will never, ever be forgotten.’
As Gemma almost collapsed in tears, Pippa rushed up.
‘She’ll always be in your heart,’ she said as she led her back to the seat.
When the coffin disappeared behind the curtain to the furnace, Gemma thought that her heart would explode. It was the worst thing she had ever seen, but she breathed and she clutched Pippa’s hand so tight she was sure she bruised her. But Pippa didn’t complain – she sat there next to her, holding her up.
When she had to walk back outside, Freddie stood on the other side of her, and he and Pippa supported her. Somehow, she made it and somehow, she managed to stop the tears, which felt as if they had been flowing forever.
The mourners who knew her nan gave her their best wishes and left. She had explained, in the funeral notice and on her numerous phone calls, that there would be no wake because the bungalow was empty, and she felt bad, but she didn’t know what else to do. She had nowhere to host it for anyone, and she just hoped that her nan wouldn’t feel let down by that. Although she was never one for a party, so she probably wouldn’t.
‘I’d better get back to the hotel,’ she said after bidding Peter Brown and the rest of the funeral guys a goodbye.
‘Ah, about that …’ Harriet said.
‘You can’t,’ Gus added.
‘Why not?’
‘Well, we kind of checked you out,’ Amanda said with a smile.
‘Which is why we were late; I did know where my shoes were really,’ Freddie replied, looking pleased with himself.
‘But how, you aren’t me?’
‘Oh, Fred kept the keycard from the other day. We rushed in, packed up your stuff, paid the bill, you know – no one argues with Fred, anyway,’ Pippa explained.
‘But why?’ Gemma asked, genuinely flummoxed but ridiculously relieved.
‘Because we want you to come home with us,’ Pippa said.
‘I know you said there wasn’t a wake, but was that true?’ Edie asked. ‘I really could murder a glass of wine, and a funeral isn’t a funeral without a paste sandwich, I always say.’
Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor Page 30