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Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor
Faith Bleasdale
Visit Meadowbrook this summer for sunshine, secrets and plenty of romance…When Gemma Matthews is hired to transform Meadowbrook Manor into a boutique hotel, she can’t believe her luck.She packs her bags and moves to Meadowbrook to start her dream job, but her life is quickly turned upside down. From dealing with the petty squabbles of the dramatic Singersiblings to cleaning up donkey poo, Gemma soon realises she has her work cut out for her. Neverthless, she’sdetermined to make the hotel a success, especially when she starts falling for the dangerously attractive Freddie Singer.But Gemma has a secret she’s desperate to protect, and she knows the truth could jeopardise everything…PRAISE FOR MEADOWBROOK MANOR‘Wish the animal sanctuary and Manor House were real as I would book a holiday there for real asap. It sounds and feels idyllic.’ Netgalley Reviewer‘A lovely heart-warming hug of a book about family and following your heart.’ Zara Stoneley‘A well written, light, warm hearted read.’ Netgalley Reviewer
Published by AVON
A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2018
Copyright © Faith Bleasdale 2018
Cover design © Diane Meacham 2018
Cover image © Shutterstock (http://www.Shutterstock.com)
Faith Bleasdale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © August 2018 ISBN: 9780008306953
Version: 2018-07-24
For Jo and Keith, thanks for all your support and inspiration.
Table of Contents
Cover (#ue2e622b3-eba1-5176-8cfd-f980650a9877)
Title Page (#u741d2ea8-db27-5697-b7ef-3b4bec4fa6a4)
Copyright (#u3b5e08e8-a5ca-5426-b1b2-4be336a5caa7)
Dedication (#ubbe08a4e-fac3-5779-b5c2-0680a9151a62)
Chapter 1 (#u795faed5-aa28-5aa6-a14d-37ea16e38d3e)
Chapter 2 (#u0b2b64e2-71d7-5f9f-b20a-0906e94dc859)
Chapter 3 (#u67b4293e-0740-5d26-b76c-2bff30c8caa2)
Chapter 4 (#ud3ef98dd-76c6-55b4-8812-c33c312d9bb1)
Chapter 5 (#u2b8b2707-e77e-559f-a252-3699ec8e8a2e)
Chapter 6 (#uec2274c1-7e11-52f9-b2d9-8e2a9107956a)
Chapter 7 (#u04beb1a0-cd5a-52ed-b913-900c066aadca)
Chapter 8 (#uaf0fe430-61ff-5c0f-8187-e53f1dc3db3b)
Chapter 9 (#u184babc9-542e-5998-9086-60cc7b5b6b3d)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 36 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 37 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)
Keep Reading … (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
By the Same Author (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#u79d4e4dc-7419-51b3-b8bb-ddc2604e61f9)
Gemma Matthews rang the buzzer, rubbing her gloved hands together and stomping her feet to try to ward off the cold. She had taken the bus, but still had a twenty-minute walk to get to the residential home. Despite the fact that she did the journey frequently, it was still a difficult one, in more ways than one.
The door was opened by Sarah, one of the carers at the home.
‘Gemma, come in, come in,’ she said, kindly, grimacing as a blast of cold air shot through the door. ‘Blimey, it’s freezing.’
‘Hi,’ Gemma said, still able to see her own breath. ‘How is she today?’ Gemma’s voice wobbled, as it always did when she asked after her nan.
‘Not too bad, love,’ Sarah replied.
Gemma nodded and made her way in.
The warmth of the nursing home hit her as soon as she closed the door behind her. She wrinkled her nose at the familiar smell; the aroma she now associated with old age. Kenworth House was a residential home specialising in taking care of dementia sufferers. Unfortunately Gemma’s nan was one of them, and she’d been here almost a year, ever since Gemma became unable to care for her at home. She signed in at the big marble reception desk, her signature like a spidery mess across the page. If it wasn’t for the smell, Gemma would think she had walked into a five-star hotel – the home was grand and expensive, which was reflected in its interior. Although Gemma knew they were struggling to afford to keep her nan here, she was determined. She had never been so determined about anything in her life, and now it seemed that determination had paid off.
She took the stairs up to her nan’s room on the first floor. Out of habit, she knocked on the door before opening it straight away. She took a breath; every time she walked through this door, she had no idea what would greet her. Would her nan recognise her? Would she welcome her even? One thing she had learnt about dementia was that it was riddled with inconsistency.
‘Hi, Nan,’ she said as breezily as she could, going straight over to where her nan was sitting. She bent down to kiss her cheek, breathing in the familiar lavender scent that characterised Gemma’s childhood, her family.
Her nan was staring out of the window, something Gemma often found her doing. She had a lovely view over the grounds of the home, which were vast with beautifully kept sweeping lawns, and flower beds ready to spring into colour. Her nan had always loved gardens, and Gemma was glad that she had this view.
‘Gemma?’ her nan asked uncertainly as she turned to her. Relief flooded through Gemma; it was a good day.
‘Yes, Nan, and I’ve brought you some flowers.’
She took a bunch of wild flowers out of her bag, and put them under her nan’s nose. Her nan smiled as she smelt them. One of her passions in life was gardening – her nan’s not Gemma’s. Gemma remembered how weekends would be spent with her nan digging, planting or weeding while Gemma would read a book outside if the weather was good, watching her, being close to her.
‘And of course your favourite wine gums.’
She handed them to her. Gemma liked bringing wine gums; when she was a kid, her nan would bring home packets from the post office on a Friday, and it would be a treat that Gemma looked forward to. After a fish and chip supper, they would share the wine gums. It was nostalgic but the only way Gemma felt she could cling to her past.
‘Thank you, love,’ her nan said with a slight smile.
‘Let me put the flowers in water,’ Gemma said quickly.
Her nan’s room was large, with a plush beige carpet, a bed, with an old-fashioned eiderdown covering it, and two chairs arranged around a small table. When her nan first moved in, Gemma had brought her favourite pictures to put up, including her wedding photo and a photo of her and Gemma when they were on holiday. The rest of the room housed a few of her books, which sat on a small shelf, although they were largely unread.
Gemma picked up the vase with the flowers from her last visit, which she deposited in the bin before going to the sink to rinse the vase and fill it with fresh water. She arranged the flowers, put them on the table and then sat in the chair next to her nan. She was bursting to tell her her news, but she had learnt that in order not to startle her nan, she needed patience.
‘So,’ she asked slowly, ‘how are you?’
‘Oh I’m just grand, love,’ her nan said with a smile. Her hands shook slightly as she gestured for Gemma to open the wine gums.
The door opened and Sarah came in.
‘Can I get you ladies a nice cuppa?’ she asked.
‘Yes please,’ Gemma replied. ‘Tea, Nan?’
‘That would be lovely, thank you,’ her nan said.
As Sarah disappeared, Gemma took a wine gum and smiled.
‘Nan, I have some news,’ she started.
‘Oh yes?’
Gemma saw the woman who had brought her up, the woman who was the rock in her life, until the cruel illness descended on their lives, ruining everything. Her face was the same, but her brain wasn’t. When, like today, her nan recognised Gemma, she felt as if she’d won the lottery.
‘You know I told you that I was going to apply for a new job?’ Her nan shook her head, and Gemma felt angry with herself. She should never ask her if she remembered anything. ‘Sorry. Anyway, I applied for a new job. As a hotel consultant to set up a new hotel in a gorgeous, gorgeous manor house.’ Her words wanted to rush out of her mouth, and Gemma told herself to calm down. But she had never felt this excited before.
‘Oh yes?’ Her nan seemed to be following this.
‘Meadowbrook Manor. It’s in a small village in the Mendips. Anyway, the family are turning the house into a small hotel, or that’s the intention, and they’ve offered me the job of helping them to open it.’
Technically, only one of the family had offered her the job, Pippa Singer; she hadn’t met the others yet, which was a little strange. Or even seen the house in person, which was stranger still, but Pippa had insisted that she was perfect for the job without her even visiting and after only one interview. Gemma had jumped for joy when she phoned to tell her. No one had ever called her perfect before – no one apart from her nan.
