Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor. Faith Bleasdale

work, but she kept telling herself that it was early days and she didn’t need all the answers right now. As long as she got them at some point …

      ‘Oh! Thank goodness. I knew you were the right person. It’s just, well, Meadowbrook is Meadowbrook and you’ll soon see that, so the hotel has to reflect that. We have to keep our father’s vision alive with whatever we do, you see. But of course you already understand that.’

      ‘I do?’ She did?

      ‘The covering letter you sent in with your CV, about the soul of Meadowbrook.’ Pippa tilted her head.

      ‘Of course, Pippa, of course,’ she reassured her. After all, that she did understand. The animal sanctuary, annual events and coachload of gardening enthusiasts she wasn’t quite as sure about.

      ‘Freddie, are you sure I’m not going to die?’ Gemma’s voice was carried into the wind, and if he heard her, Freddie didn’t answer.

      Gemma was holding on to the side of the buggy for dear life and trying to decide whether or not it was less scary with her eyes shut. On reflection, it was slightly less nauseating with them open. She snuck a glance at him – he was driving very intently and too fast across a bumpy field, up towards the lake. However, she couldn’t help but think, again, that he was the best-looking man she had ever been this close to, or met. Even if he was also the worst driver.

      Her ex-boyfriend, Chris, was nothing to rave about, although to be fair, neither was she. He was a couple of inches taller than Gemma who was five foot five, he had mousy brown hair, eyes that her nan always said were a bit too small and unremarkable features. She knew her nan didn’t think much of him – in her pre-dementia days – but it was only now she could see that it was because he was constantly putting her down. At the time, she felt they were perfectly matched – two people who would pretty much go unnoticed through life. But Chris still thought he was too good for her, and he never tired of reminding her, until he left her, as most people in her life seemed to do.

      Gemma’s nan always told her that feeling sorry for yourself was unattractive and Gemma tried, tried really hard, to remember that, but sometimes she failed. It was as if she couldn’t shake the expectation that everyone would leave her. And now, in many ways her nan had too, although she also knew that that wasn’t her choice.

      So, the new Gemma was trying even harder. Although she didn’t have Pippa’s ethereal beauty, or Harriet’s striking looks, she wasn’t unattractive. Since her makeover she was beginning to think she wasn’t too bad at all. But a lifetime of feeling unremarkable wasn’t just going to go away overnight. It was more inside than out. She was still a work-in-progress, especially at Meadowbrook where she was surrounded by beautiful, confident people, who reflected the house perfectly. Perhaps some of that would rub off on her if she were lucky. Or if she survived this buggy ride.

      ‘You probably won’t die. But at least you’ll feel alive when we reach our destination in one piece,’ he finally replied, screeching to a halt. ‘Voilà, the lake.’

      They both climbed out of the buggy, and although her legs were still a bit jelly-like, she surveyed the horizon. It was a cold, crisp day, and the light bouncing off the lake reflected that. It was so peaceful, the winter sun shimmering on the surface as the water lay flat, and apart from the odd birdcall, it was blissfully silent.

      ‘Do people fish?’ she asked, finally.

      ‘No, we swam in it as kids though, and I think Harriet still does sometimes. Not me – I prefer the indoor heated pool. There are public footpaths through the land, so we do get walkers, which is fine. Why, do you fish?’ Freddie grinned.

      ‘No.’ Gemma wondered why he made her feel so awkward. ‘I was just asking – you know, for the hotel.’ She went closer to the lake, stumbling as she caught her foot on a large unseen stone.

      ‘Bloody hell, don’t fall in,’ Freddie said, moving to help her as she righted herself. ‘It’ll be freezing. No, I wouldn’t think we’d want to attract men in waders and suchlike anyway. No, my vision for the hotel is more Bright Young Things.’

      ‘You want to attract bright young people?’

      He turned to her, his lips curling up. ‘No, well yes, but I mean like the film. Glamorous young people, having good old-fashioned fun and drinking cocktails made by moi – you know, I’ve done a cocktail-making course. Via the Internet, but still, they sent me a certificate.’

      Gemma wondered if Freddie was joking, but for once he looked serious.

      ‘You can learn via the Internet?’ Gemma asked, trying not to sound as astounded as she felt.

      ‘Yes, of course. They put loads of videos up, so I not only learnt recipes, but also technique. Even the whole throwing of the cocktail shaker, although I wasn’t very good at that. But I perfected the mixing. I am officially a mixologist now. Well, I think I am. And tonight I will show you, and you can sample some of my signature drinks. I intend to be in charge of the bar at the hotel, and I’m going to design the drinks menu. It’s my area of expertise after all.’

      ‘Well, I’m not much of a drinker, remember.’ Gemma was terrified. He was so sure of himself, although he didn’t seem arrogant. She could only dream of a fraction of his confidence. She wondered if he would spare her any.

      ‘Bloody shame.’ He shook his head in disgust, and Gemma realised she might have to start drinking cocktails to keep the job.

      ‘But I’ll look forward to sampling some of your concoctions, of course.’ She attempted a laugh.

      ‘Oh brilliant, and if I were you I’d get good and hammered tonight.’

      ‘Why’s that?’

      ‘You’ve got a meeting with Harriet tomorrow morning. She’s much easier to deal with with a hangover, believe me. Right, come on, I’ll show you where we host our main events and then take you to the animal sanctuary. Back in the buggy.’

      ‘If I have to,’ Gemma mumbled under her breath.

      Just as she thought she was getting the hang of all this, she felt the ground being swept from under her again. Literally this time, as the buggy seemed to take off into the air.

      She was so pleased to have her feet on the ground again, she almost threw herself down to kiss it. They had parked up at the animal sanctuary, and as Harriet had gone somewhere for supplies and Connor was working at the vets’ practice, Freddie – with the help of Amy, one of the full-time workers – gave Gemma the tour. Amy clearly had a crush on Freddie, as she hung on his every word and practically ignored Gemma. Freddie was flirting with her masterfully, but then Amy was young and pretty, so why wouldn’t he?

      ‘So, how many animals do you have?’ Gemma asked as they started by visiting the dogs.

      ‘Loads,’ Freddie replied. ‘Would you say, Amy?’

      ‘Oh yes,’ Amy breathed. ‘Loads.’

      Gemma was sure it wasn’t going to be the most informative tour ever.

      She rubbed her temples. The dogs, who were incredibly excited and loud, had given her a headache, although she felt so sorry for them, all abandoned when they should have been in loving homes. She tried not to think that she could identify with them. They moved on to the cats, who were much more calming. The chickens were a surprise, as Freddie seemed very fond of them, and then she had been introduced to – yes, really – two alpacas, four pigs, three mini ponies, a donkey, a blind sheep, her “guide” lamb and three goats.

      ‘So the alpacas, Sebastian and Samantha, are a bit stuck-up,’ Freddie explained.

      ‘Really?’ Gemma noticed they seemed to be doing their best to ignore her.

      ‘I think they think they’re better than us, but anyway, come on, there’s more to see.’

      Gemma shook her head.

      She tried to remember all the animal names, but there were