Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor. Faith Bleasdale

to work with the pigs, and he explained how fond he was of them as he introduced her to them. They had five pigs now: Napoleon, Cleopatra, Geoffrey and Bubble and Squeak. They were enormous and Gemma found them quite intimidating; four were from homes where they were supposed to be domestic micropigs who turned out to be fully grown. How could so many people be duped like that? Probably served them right for trying to be fashionable with their pets; although, of course, it was the animals who suffered in the long run.

      Not that the Meadowbrook pigs exactly suffered. They had lots of room, a lovely shelter, plenty to eat – as Gus explained, it was all organic, which meant they probably ate better than she did. They were very content and well looked after, so at least they had happy endings, even if they were anything but micro. The final pig, Gus had told her, was his favourite – although out of earshot of the others; apparently, pigs were sensitive. This was Geoffrey, a pig who was used for breeding and had been retired to Meadowbrook. According to Gus, Geoffrey was the warmest, most loving pig he had ever met. Gemma didn’t get too close; she just took his word for it. But Geoffrey did seem to be enjoying his new retirement home.

      She was getting used to being with the cats, and was happy to feed them, pet them, talk to them and get to know them. Connor had introduced her to each of them, showing how caring he really was, as they patiently went to each one, making sure they spent time petting them all.

      There were fifteen cats at the moment, and an old man called Albert was her favourite. He wasn’t the friendliest – in fact, he hissed at her quite a bit – but he was a big tabby who looked as if he had a permanent scowl. For some reason, Gemma was spending her time trying to win him over. She felt as if he needed a friend, even if he didn’t know it. She also had a ridiculous notion that if she could win him over, she might be able to do the same with Harriet.

      She realised that at Meadowbrook they were all a little potty about the animals – they all had names, personalities and were talked about as if they were people – but she also found that she was quickly doing the same. Albert, her grumpy old man, was now one of her favourite things about the place.

      Harriet was perfectly polite to her, but she definitely hadn’t thawed totally, and still treated her with suspicion. Harriet asked a lot of questions and although Pippa did the same, Gemma always felt Harriet wanted to trip her up. She knew she might be paranoid, but it was just how she felt.

      And Freddie clearly thought she was an idiot. It didn’t help that she turned into a klutz around him, always banging into things, or stammering, unable to get her words out. It wasn’t the image she wanted to project, but she found him so intimidating, in a different way to Harriet. She was getting used to drinking more now, although it still wasn’t enough to impress Freddie. The problem was that she wished she could be more like him, and deep down she knew she also wished that he liked her a bit more.

      The house was eerily quiet as she made her way into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She did so and then went to take it upstairs. She wondered if anyone was home. Meadowbrook felt wrong when it was empty – too big, too quiet – and she could see that the house needed filling with people. She understood more why they thought a boutique hotel would be perfect.

      She heard voices coming from the study and although she knew she shouldn’t, she paused. Hoping that whoever was in there wouldn’t suddenly come out, she put her ear to the door.

      She heard Freddie’s voice. ‘Look, Harry, she might come home anytime, so perhaps we shouldn’t be talking about her here.’

      ‘We’re not doing anything wrong,’ Harriet countered. ‘I’m just saying that she’s been here for a few weeks, and I’m not sure what she’s done in that time.’

      Gemma felt her heart sink into her thick woollen socks.

      ‘Well I think she’s done loads,’ Pippa said loyally. ‘She’s getting a real feel for the place, and she’s great with the cats.’

      ‘That’s all well and good, Pip, but she’s meant to be helping us come up with a model for the hotel, and as far as I can see she barely even mentions it,’ Harriet continued.

      ‘I’m not sure that’s fair, Harry. I think she’s getting a feel for the place,’ Gus mumbled. ‘She is interested in the gardens, and as Pippa said, the sanctuary. I think you’re being a little harsh, Harry.’

      ‘And she hasn’t even tried to talk to me about the cocktail bar,’ Freddie huffed.

      ‘But—’ Pippa started.

      ‘No, Pip, I know you think she’s your friend, but she is here to do a job. Right, my proposal is that her month’s trial is up end of next week, so we ask her to present her ideas to us in a professional way. We need something concrete, so if they’ve got substance, if she’s got substance, we’ll know then.’

      ‘But that’s so not fair,’ Pippa argued.

      ‘Why not?’ Freddie asked.

      ‘Because I really like her,’ Pippa said weakly.

      ‘You really liked your husband and look where that got you,’ Freddie pointed out.

      ‘Fred, that’s unnecessary,’ Gus said.

      ‘Sorry,’ Freddie mumbled.

      ‘Anyway, I didn’t like him that much.’

      Everyone laughed.

      Once again, Gemma marvelled at their relationship. They bickered, yes, but they were so close, and they loved each other. They were all so different but they supported each other. And Gemma was reminded, starkly, that she was an outsider. Literally, as she couldn’t pull herself away from the door.

      ‘So we’re agreed then,’ Harriet said.

      ‘Not exactly,’ Pippa huffed.

      ‘Look, Pip, I hope she works out, I really do, and I’m glad you two get on so well, I’m just saying that perhaps if we get her to do a presentation for us, then we’ll have a clearer idea about her proposals for Meadowbrook and if she even has any. I’m not doing this to be horrible, but it is business at the end of the day.’ Harriet sounded kinder.

      ‘We are paying her a decent salary, after all,’ Gus concurred.

      Gemma liked him a little bit less.

      ‘Yes, and if we’re ever going to open this hotel, we need to get plans underway,’ Freddie stated. ‘Sooner rather than later.’

      Gemma balked – it wasn’t as if he seemed to do any work, after all.

      ‘Well, I suppose asking her to present her ideas isn’t too bad. After all, I am confident she has loads of them,’ Pippa conceded. ‘But let me tell her. You guys – well not you, Gus – but you two will probably scare her off if you do it.’

      Gemma scurried away before she got caught.

      Her heart pounded as she shut the door. She had known she wouldn’t be able to pull it off. But then she had to – she had no choice. They were going to ask her to present her ideas. She didn’t have any, well she did, but she didn’t have anything like a clear plan yet. She’d have to get one done and quickly.

      She propped herself up on the bed, the bed that might not be hers for much longer, and sipped her cold tea. Then she pulled her books out from under the bed and opened one entitled A Practical Guide to Opening a Hotel, and began to read.

       Chapter 9

      ‘Ow, Fred, you kicked me,’ Pippa shouted.

      Freddie glared from across the table. Gemma let herself glance, briefly, at him. She had a good idea of what was coming but, of course, she kept quiet. They were having breakfast, and Gemma couldn’t shake the conversations she’d overheard yesterday. This always happened to her, didn’t it? No one thought she was ever good enough. Gemma tried to breathe