‘But why here?’ Amanda asked. ‘I mean, I love it here, but it’s nothing like LA, or Orange Country, it’s a tiny village.’
It was a good point.
‘I don’t know exactly,’ Brooke started uncertainly. ‘I found out that we had ancestors; my father’s family were from Somerset. I started looking at the area and I knew about the cities … I was going to go to Bath, actually, but then I came across Meadowbrook and thought, why not? It was impulsive, my mom’s still mad at me for coming here, but now I’m here, I’m finding that I have very little reason to leave.’ She had a wistful look on her face, as if she were elsewhere.
‘And what about your mother?’ Harriet pushed.
‘That’s complicated.’ Brooke folded her arms across her chest as if to say that the conversation was definitely over.
‘While it’s great that you like it here, surely you can’t stay at the hotel forever?’ Gemma asked.
‘I guess not…’ Now she looked confused, as if this hadn’t occurred to her.
As Pippa refilled glasses and pushed bowls of nibbles towards them, she thought that Brooke might retreat again.
‘I can help you,’ Harriet announced.
‘What with?’ Brooke sounded terrified.
If Harriet offered to help you that was often the reaction, Pippa thought. Brooke didn’t stand a chance.
‘Your business. I can help you with that, if you like. What is it you want to do?’
‘I want to look at setting up a fitness business, using the latest trends from LA. There’s a lot going on in the industry. I trained in a new class, a cross between yoga and HIT; it’s really popular. I’ve made a list of local gyms that I need to visit and I’ve been researching popular classes in the UK. I think my way of training is different.’
‘Sounds horrific,’ Amanda shuddered. ‘Sorry, it’s just I only exercise by gardening,’ she apologised.
‘I need to do more research first,’ Brooke stated, sounding more enthusiastic than she did at the beginning of the conversation.
‘I think going to see some local gyms is a great idea,’ Harriet said. ‘And as I said, I’m happy to help with business plans and suchlike.’
‘Thank you, Harriet. But enough about me. Amanda, so, how did you and Gus get together?’
‘We met here, at Meadowbrook. I used to work for Andrew, their father, and I’d seen Gus a couple of times but not much. When Andrew died, Gus took over his role of overseeing the work in the gardens. He was so passionate, just like his dad in some ways.’
‘What ways?’ Brooke inched forwards.
‘The way he loved nature and saw the beauty in the gardens. Andrew liked everything in order, but he also had a great respect for nature. Gus is like that, only a bit more creative. A little bolder in his ideas, I guess. We both felt that what we did with Meadowbrook gardens, and of course that included the gardening club, had to respect Andrew’s wishes.’
‘Wow,’ Brooke said, her eyes intense as she stared at Amanda as if drinking in every word.
Pippa saw how gripped Brooke seemed by everyone’s story, how interested she was, and Pippa felt herself warming to her more. Pippa was a people-pleaser, which is why she was so good at her job running the hotel. If the guests weren’t happy then Pippa wasn’t happy and she felt as if now Brooke was practically her only guest, maybe she was focusing on her a bit much. Wanting her to be happy when she might not be after losing her father, wanting her to be settled before she was ready, perhaps. As Pippa relaxed into the evening, she told herself to chill out a bit. Brooke was fine, she was doing well, they were all getting on well so she needed to stop worrying.
At the end of the evening, when Brooke had said goodnight and gone to bed, Pippa called Harriet.
‘I knew you’d call me,’ Harriet laughed.
‘I just wanted a debrief. It was fun in the end, wasn’t it?’
Once Harriet’s interrogation was over, they’d drunk more, ignored the food and laughed a lot. Brooke was actually very funny.
‘Yes, and I like Brooke. I think she’s just young and perhaps a bit lost. That’s my professional opinion, so if we support and help her, I’m pretty sure she’ll be OK. I’m not convinced she’s not just having some kind of spoilt-kid tantrum with her mum, you know, and she’ll go back to LA anyway.’
‘Really? I still think there might be more to her than meets the eye,’ Pippa reiterated.
She was thinking maybe Brooke came here for a man, maybe there was someone or something that drew her here and she wasn’t ready to share it. That made more sense.
‘No, Pip. You’re way off the mark, and I’m normally the suspicious one. Her dad died, she finds she had ancestors from this area and she’s lost, but she’s probably taking her time because she’s scared. You know, Pippa, she’s the type that most women want to hate – you know, beautiful, confident, funny and intelligent – but you can’t hate her because she’s so nice.’
‘She is nice, Harry, and I know what you mean, but I think there’s something else going on. I just can’t put my finger on it.’
‘Bloody hell, Pip, you’re beginning to sound like me. And I think you’re wrong.’
‘Maybe. I probably am overthinking it, but I guess time will tell, won’t it?’
Pippa was still unsure if Brooke had told them the full story, but then as Harriet and everyone kept pointing out, she’d paid up front, so whatever she was doing here was her business and hers alone. Pippa really should be focusing on herself and not Brooke. Perhaps it was time for her to do just that …
Chapter Thirteen
‘Hector! What on earth are you doing?’ Pippa gasped.
She’d just entered the drawing room and Hector seemed to have his head in the fireplace.
He turned around, still on his knees, soot in his hair and a smudge on his face, which Pippa resisted the urge to rub off. Even so, he looked impossibly handsome.
‘I was trying to figure out how to light the fire.’ He stood up slowly.
‘Here, I’ll light it. Honestly, Hector, you don’t light it by putting your face right in.’ She shook her head as she gathered logs and firelighters and started arranging them in the hearth.
‘I do know that. Not that I’m good at lighting fires. Or I might be but I haven’t really lit any so far. Then I started looking up the chimney and thinking about how they used to send kids up to clean them; I sort of got sidetracked.’
‘Horrific thought.’
‘Yes, it is rather, and then I wondered if it would make a good hiding place.’
‘A hiding place for what?’
‘A letter – you know, a love letter. But then how would it ever be discovered? Or would it be discovered years and years later, long after the writer of the letter had died?’
Pippa wasn’t sure she was exactly following this conversation but then many of her chats with Hector could be baffling.
‘You mean perhaps it’s windy outside, dislodging it, and then someone comes into the room and finds it lying on the fireplace? A miracle it’s untouched, but perhaps it’s wrapped in something charred and when they open it, the letter is perfectly intact?’
Pippa watched as the flames began to take hold as she sat on her knees, mesmerised by the way they danced. They’d grown up with open fires at Meadowbrook and she’d missed them when she lived with Mark, who insisted on those fake gas ones – only the most expensive. There was something about a real fire – the smell, the way the warmth crept around you like a blanket. It was so romantic, as well.
‘Pippa, you’re my saviour!’ Hector interrupted her thoughts.
‘I am?’
‘Yes, you really are. I’ve been trying to find a hiding place for this letter in my next book. It’s set in an old house, but it’s Victorian not Georgian. I thought if it was in the fireplace, then surely it would never survive the twenty years I need it to, but with your way of explaining it, it might actually work, after all.’ He was still sooty but at least animated, now.<
br />
‘I’m so glad I was able to help you. Although, as you know, I have no idea really what you’re talking about.’ She patted his arm kindly.
‘This book is becoming a bit of a struggle, if I’m honest. The first bit flowed, but now it feels a bit like wading through mud. I’ve been chained to my desk for too long, I guess.’
‘You should take a day off,’ Pippa suggested, putting the fireguard up.
‘What a great idea. I need a change of scene. Where shall we go?’
‘We?’ Pippa asked.
‘Yes, I can’t possibly go on my own, not in the state I’m in, what with my suffering.’
‘What suffering?’
‘Writer’s block. Call Freddie and tell him it’s an emergency and you must take me out of this place immediately for both my own good and that of my book – my future depends on it.’
‘Bloody hell, Hector, stop being so dramatic.’
As she thought about it, she decided a day off might actually do her some good. Getting out of the hotel would probably be just the tonic she needed.
They’d welcomed a family group of eight to Meadowbrook the previous day. Half of them were baking, the other half were painting with Gus. The hotel was fully staffed and, of course, there was always Freddie, who was probably going to be in the bar anyway, so he could keep an eye on it. She glanced over at Hector, who was watching her intently.
‘You’re on, but where are we going?’
‘Let’s go to Glastonbury and find some spiritual stuff.’
‘Really?’ She didn’t have him down as the spiritual type.
‘We can walk up Glastonbury Tor; it’s quite inspiring. I don’t really do all that hippie stuff, but it’s a really beautiful walk. You never know, it might even inspire me and cure my writer’s block.’
‘Right, well let me change into something suitable for walking in and I’ll drive us.’
‘This is going to be the best day ever,’ Hector said.
Pippa really didn’t think it would be, but she found herself smiling at the idea.
She called Freddie and after he moaned a bit, he said he’d be right there. She had a look for Brooke, thinking maybe they could invite her along, but she was nowhere to be seen. She’d been a little vague at breakfast when Pippa asked her what her plans were. She’d seen her go off somewhere in her gym clothes, but Pippa wasn’t her keeper, so she really had to stop her obsession with the poor girl and let her carry on doing her thing. Goodness, it wasn’t as if she was hurting anyone and actually, she was proving a valuable addition to Meadowbrook in just the way Pippa hoped she would before she arrived.
‘It’s exhausting,’ Hector declared as they neared the top. ‘But so worth the view.’
Pippa felt a smile creeping across her face. The day was cold, crisp and bright, and Pippa felt as if she could see the world.
‘I feel as if I’m tiny, you know,’ Pippa said. ‘Standing up here, being able to see for miles, and I’m a tiny dot. But I didn’t have you down for a hiker,’ she smiled.
‘Shall we sit?’
He pulled his jacket off and lay it down. Pippa sat next to him, took two bottles of water out of her bag and handed one to him.
‘You know, I don’t exactly hike but in London, I often walk up Primrose Hill. There’s something about being on top of a hill, looking down at the world. It makes me feel … I don’t know, powerful or something. Maybe it’s the space around me – it’s just so liberating.’
Pippa glanced over her right shoulder at Hector. He was staring straight ahead, his cheeks pink, his hair slightly wavy in the breeze, but he had such intensity in his eyes – passion. She could see, at that moment, how he was such a good writer. She could physically see it in him.
‘It’s wonderful,’ she replied, unable to find the words. ‘I need to do this more often. I love Meadowbrook and the hotel, but I don’t do anything for me anymore. Does that make sense?’
‘Yes, it does. You need to live a bit. I know you love your work and your family, but you sometimes need to have that escape. All your siblings do. I mean, they don’t live at Meadowbrook but you actually live there, you breathe it, and that’s great, but you need to remember to take care of yourself as well.’
He sounded so sincere and concerned that for a moment Pippa felt emotional.
‘You’re right.’ She pulled herself together. ‘It’s just that when opening the hotel I wanted to prove I could do it, that I was capable, and I think I’ve just forgotten to stop. Perhaps now I’ll look at taking a whole day off every week and actually leaving the premises.’
‘You’ve done a fantastic job with the hotel, Pippa, but you also need your own life.’
‘That’s what Harry says, and the others. Do you think I’ve got a bit of an obsession with it?’
‘It’s natural, it’s your baby, the hotel, but it’s up and running and doing well, so you can take a bit of a step back now.’
‘I know, you’re right. So, I’ll try to remember to take some time off from now on. Deal?’
‘That sounds like a great idea and I’ll always be available to keep you company, you know.’ He nudged her with his shoulder and they sat side by side, admiring the view in silence for a while.
Pippa felt alive for the first time in a long while and she knew Hector was right. He and her family had been nagging her for a while to take more time for herself. The hotel was doing well and they were building the business, but she had support, she had good staff, so there was no harm in taking time out. The others certainly did. She needed something to get her out of the rut that she was finally able to admit she’d been in. It was a lovely rut, a comfortable rut, but a rut nonetheless, and as she sat with Hector next to her she realised it was time to get out of said rut.
Brooke was sitting in the bar with a man who Pippa didn’t recognise when she got back. Hector, who was newly inspired, rushed straight up to his room to get some writing done before dinner. Pippa had checked with Vicky in the kitchen, but everything was going well. You see, she chastised herself, leaving the hotel didn’t make it fall apart. It was almost as if they hadn’t even noticed she’d gone.
‘Fred,’ she said, approaching her brother, who was behind the bar moving things around and restocking the spirits
Pippa thought it must be his favourite thing to do, his baby, organising the already immaculate bar on a weekly basis. Freddie used to run a party company in London with friends of his, and he partied hard. After their father’s death, they realised that he’d lost pretty much everything and he was on a slippery slope. But he’d turned his life around and although he drank a lot, by most people’s standards – a hell of a lot – he’d calmed down. He’d done so before he got together with Gemma, but she’d been an additional good influence on him. She saw that he was committed to Meadowbrook now and although he ran the bar and made up drinks, he also was in charge of their events, their social media and the marketing. Pippa knew he worked almost as hard as she did for the hotel, not that she’d tell him that. Freddie still had a big ego, something he hadn’t managed to ditch and probably never would.
‘Who’s the man with Brooke?’ Pippa whispered, glancing over at him but trying not to be obvious.
He looked tall, even though he was sitting down, and was wearing all black. Brooke was across from him, making notes.
‘He’s a local fitness guru, apparently,’ Freddie hissed into her ear. ‘They’re having a “business meeting”. I’ve served them soft drinks and snacks and they’ve been here for quite a while.’
The man, whose short dark hair seemed to glisten, had his head fairly close to Brooke. They seemed engrossed in whatever they were talking about and Pippa was intrigued.
‘Well, hello,’ Pippa said, interrupting them.
‘Pippa.’ Brooke looked up at her, her eyes betraying nothing.
‘I just wanted to see if you needed anything?’ she asked.
‘No, thanks, we’re fine,’ Brooke replied, a slight blush to h
er cheeks.
Pippa raised an eyebrow as the man stood up. She was right – he was tall, and slim. His black uniform comprised tight jeans, a hoodie and black trainers. He was conventionally good-looking, but his jeans were exceptionally tight, she thought as she tried to keep her eyes on his face.
‘Hi, I’m Chris PT,’ he said, holding out a hand.
‘Pippa Singer. So, how are you spelling PT?’ It seemed an odd kind of surname.
Brooke seemed to have lost a little of her customary confidence, as she plastered a smile on her face.
‘Oh no, it stands for personal trainer, ha,’ he laughed. ‘My actual name’s Chris Reeves but everyone calls me Chris PT. I’m here to speak with Brooke about her business, or what could be our business, should I say?’
‘Oh, that sounds exciting.’
‘Yes.’ Brooke found her voice. ‘I hope you don’t mind us working in here, though?’
‘Of course not, Brooke, you’re a guest here and you have the run of the place, which includes any guests of yours, who are just as welcome. Sorry, I shouldn’t interrupt your business meeting, but if you do want anything, just shout.’
‘Thank you so much, Pippa,’ Brooke said before Pippa left them to it.
‘Glass of wine?’ Freddie asked as he poured himself a drink.
‘I was going to wait until after dinner,’ Pippa protested.
‘It’s your day off. The staff have dinner covered and anyway, it’s rude to make your brother drink alone.’
‘Where’s Gemma?’
‘She’s out with her college friends, which’ll probably do her good. I wanted to talk to you. You know, as you’re her best friend, you must know she’s feeling insecure at the moment and I don’t know what to do. The other night after your girls’ night she came home a bit worse for wear and accused me of fancying Brooke.’
‘And do you?’
‘No! God, no. Look,’ his voice dropped, ‘I know she’s attractive, I’m not blind, but perhaps because I’ve matured and I’m in love, I don’t look at Brooke in any way but as a friend. I adore Gem, you know that, but, Pip, I’m not ready for marriage or children. The idea fills me with dread, if I’m honest, and she’s pushing a bit. I know that’s the natural next progression, but I’m still getting my head around being a proper grown up.’
The Ticket to Happiness Page 12