Read the book: «A Year at Meadowbrook Manor»
Copyright
Published by AVON
A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2018
Copyright © Faith Bleasdale 2018
Cover design © Debbie Clement 2018
Cover illustrations © 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 e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, 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.
Source ISBN: 9780008287276
Ebook Edition © January 2018 ISBN: 9780008259808
Version: 2019-02-26
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Keep Reading…
About the Publisher
Dedication
For my mum who has spent so much of her life rescuing animals
Chapter 1
‘Wow, Meadowbrook,’ Harriet Singer breathed, as she smoothed her black Prada jacket and stepped out of the car onto the driveway of Meadowbrook Manor, her childhood home. She watched the driver take her cases out of the boot and she paid him, tipping him heavily. He’d met her at Heathrow and driven her all the way to Somerset. Thankfully, he had sensed her mood and hadn’t tried to make polite conversation, so she’d been able to spend the journey with her own tortured thoughts.
As he drove off, she turned her attention back to the house. Even at thirty-seven years old, the sight of it made her feel like a little girl again. The late May sun served as a spotlight for the house – an imposing Georgian manor which looked like a giant doll’s house. She breathed in the sweet air as she stared at it; impressive, grand, full of memories of her childhood. She hadn’t been here in years but Meadowbrook still felt like a family member. Silently, she greeted it and told it she had missed it. She was almost surprised to find just how much she had.
Her father had passed away a week ago. It was a shock to her and to her three siblings, but as she recently discovered, not so much to him. He had heart problems, and for some reason had chosen not to share this information with his children. Harriet was the oldest of the Singers living in New York, working for a big investment bank, so coming home had taken a few days to organise. Dumbfounded, she had booked a flight, delegated any outstanding work and, still unsure of how she was feeling, boarded a plane. Just in time for his funeral.
Confusion wrapped itself around her like a shawl. She had been away for so long, her life had changed, she was more city slicker nowadays, not a country girl anymore. But seeing Meadowbrook made her think of that child she used to be and she wondered, how on earth it had come to this? Why had she stayed away for so long? And why had only a death, the death of her only remaining parent, brought her back?
She shivered and pulled her jacket tighter around her. She was cold, despite the fact the weather was mild, she felt her bones chill with what she could only identify as fear.
As she prepared to greet her family again, she tried to calm herself. Her three siblings were almost like strangers to her. It had been five years since she had seen them – at her youngest sister, Pippa’s wedding – and they only kept in touch by email sporadically. Her father was her only link, she Skyped him weekly from her New York apartment, and they chatted for ages. God, it hit her, that would never happen again. But the worst thing was that the Singer siblings, once so close, were now fractured; she didn’t know them anymore, not like when they were children. Not only that but they didn’t know her anymore either.
She shuddered again as she made her way to the imposing black front door. Meadowbrook was waiting for her, and now Harriet was going to set foot inside for the first time in five years, to quickly shower, change and then attend her father’s funeral.
Harriet found herself once again standing in front of the house. They had returned from the local church where Andrew Singer’s – her father’s – funeral had been attended by most of the village of Parker’s Hollow. It had been organised by the elder of her brothers, Gus, and Gwen, the family’s housekeeper, to her father’s precise wishes. Had he organised the sunny day too? she wondered with a wry smile. Although thinking about it, he probably would have wanted rain, hail, thunder; for the sky to be as upset as the mourners were.
Andrew Singer was a successful businessman, he’d built a tax consultancy from nothing and sold it for a ridiculous amount – floating it on the stock exchange and making millions. He was a man who always knew what he wanted. He had also been a single parent for most of their lives; their mother had been killed in a car accident when Harriet was only nine, so he had brought up his four children alone, with the help of Gwen, a series of nannies and, for most of the Singer siblings, boarding school. His exacting standards, his success, his ambition was something each of his children had been indoctrinated with to some extent. But he was also a loving father, refusing to marry again because he loved their mother too much, and he was always there for his children, even when they were adults, right until now when they had to bury him.
Her father had specified a big service – the church was standing room only – where his children all shared memories of him and the congregation sang his favourite hymns. It was followed by a burial where he was laid to rest next to their mother. Naturally, instructions had been left for an elaborate headstone to be erected in due course. Her parents would dominate the graveyard, just as her father wanted; the lord and lady of Meadowbrook Manor. Not that he was a lord of course, but a self-made man, who had come from nothing to own one of the most beautiful houses in the Mendips. And not only that, but he was devoted to Meadowbrook and Parker’s Hollow, so it was somehow extreme but fitting.
Harriet was sure that he would have enjoyed the service, although he would possibly be disappointed that no one had tried to throw themselves onto his coffin as it was lowered into the ground. Harriet smiled, which soon turned into a grimace; burying her father next to her mother had been a stark, savage reminder that the Singer siblings were now orphans. And she would miss her father dreadfully, just as soon as she was able to accept that he was gone.
Although she had been there, seen the coffin, watched it going into the ground, it still didn’t feel real. Although usually logic-driven, she felt as if the surrounding air was filled with disbelief, clinging to her. Yes, her father was gone, but when would it feel so?
Watching the others in church and at the graveside, she felt she came up short. Yes she looked the part, the grieving oldest daughter, black designer dress, Louboutin heels, Armani jacket, but although she was carrying a Chanel clutch full of tissues, she had needed none of them. Others – friends, neighbours, the postman – had shed tears, she – his daughter – had not. Her eyes remained resolutely dry and she resented them for it. Thankfully her oversized sunglasses hid the fact. It was as if her heart felt everything but that didn’t translate to her eyes.
She felt herself stumble slightly in her heels and instinctively she reached out and grabbed the nearest arm; her brother Gus’s. Surprise flickered in his eyes, before she regained her balance and they walked across the drive to the front door. She glanced behind her to see her other brother, Freddie, and her youngest sister, Pippa, just inches behind them. The front door loomed in front of her, and for a moment she felt something akin to panic.
‘Right,’ she turned to Gus, Freddie and Pippa, ‘shall we go in?’
Harriet was the oldest; Gus – Angus – was thirty-five, Freddie was thirty-two and Pippa was the baby, about to turn thirty. Being the older sibling was a role she had taken seriously, especially after her mother died. But in adulthood, she had neglected that role; instead throwing herself into her career in London and then New York, opening up a distance between them that contained more than just miles. She told herself her siblings didn’t need her as much, and vice versa, although now, being with them, she felt guilt prodding her like a hot poker.
Harriet turned the large brass handle and pushed the door open. Of course it wasn’t locked, the house was expecting them. Meadowbrook had always been a house that seemed to own the family rather than vice versa. Her father’s dream home, it had been the only house Harriet had lived in before she left for university. But for ten years she had been living and working in New York and they had become estranged, along with the rest of her family.
When her father bought Meadowbrook it was as a wedding present for him and their mother, Victoria. Before they stepped inside it had been renovated. Money being no object, he had poured it into the house, using interior designers, the best materials; it had always been an amazing house both inside and out. Her father had updated rooms throughout their childhood as well, and Meadowbrook was such a part of him, Harriet could barely think of the house and her father as not being together. She was unsure how she would feel staying here without him. Wrong didn’t begin to cover it.
As she heard her heels echo on the chequered tiled floor, gazing as she always had as a child at the huge chandelier that commanded the impressive entrance hall, she turned and looked at her brothers and sister.
‘So, we made it. Now, shall we fortify with a drink before the hordes arrive?’ Harriet tried a smile but she feared it would be more like a scowl. She also hated how formal she sounded to her own ears. She was with her family yet it felt as if she was with strangers.
‘Good idea,’ Freddie said, breaking away and heading for their father’s study. Or what was his study, Harriet thought, wondering if she would get used to thinking of him in the past tense anytime soon.
‘Um, OK, Mark’s driving some of the villagers who didn’t have a car.’ Pippa’s eyes clouded; as the baby of the family she was probably feeling their father’s loss more keenly than the others. Pippa had always worn her heart on her sleeve, not like her older sister. For Harriet, emotions were something she tried to avoid like cheap shoes. Harriet knew she should give her a hug, but she could only manage a slightly weak pat on the arm.
‘Where’s Fleur?’ Harriet asked, having only just noticed her twelve-year-old niece’s absence.
‘Her mother felt it better to take her home. She felt going to the funeral was enough.’ Gus’s eyes strayed to his shiny black shoes. ‘She was so upset …’ His voice broke.
She knew she should offer some comfort, but she was at a loss where to start with each of them.
Freddie headed to their father’s old-fashioned drinks trolley as soon as they entered the study. It was definitely her father’s room. His personality stamped on every inch, from the huge imposing mahogany desk that had dominated the room forever – Harriet vaguely remembered when she couldn’t even see over the top – to the large wooden backed chair that she used to love spinning in until she was dizzy. The art on the wall, all landscapes – her father believed paintings should be only of landscapes, people or fruit – were achingly familiar. As were the antiques that he had carefully chosen, an old floor-to-ceiling map, a ship, a globe. Strange objects that had captivated her as a child; her father rarely travelled and he hated the sea. She glanced across at Gus, who was transfixed by the wall, and she wondered if he was thinking the same. Perhaps reliving their childhood, even just in their heads, would help them find their relationship with each other again.
‘Right, well, I think we should drink the very good stuff,’ Freddie announced in his usual dramatic way, selecting a bottle of expensive whisky.
‘I suppose I better go and see if Gwen is OK,’ Harriet said. The housekeeper kept a low profile, Harriet had barely seen her after the service.
‘Can you get ice as well, please, Harry?’ Freddie thrust an ice bucket at her.
‘I’ll get the ice, Harry can chat to Gwen,’ Gus said, sensibly, taking the bucket from her.
They walked across the large hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house. The aroma of food hit them as soon as they entered. People, strangers, wearing black and white uniforms whirled around the large kitchen, unwrapping food, plating it up, polishing glasses.
‘Harriet.’ Gwen emerged from behind the crowd. ‘Are you OK, love?’ The closest thing Harriet had had to a mother figure growing up, she let Gwen hug her and Harriet was surprised by the warmth of the embrace. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been hugged like that.
Gwen had been the family housekeeper for years. She’d arrived at Meadowbrook as a young single mother, shortly after their own mother had been killed, and she had never left. She was part of the family; her father’s companion in a way, although nothing romantic had ever happened between them. Just as her father maintained their mother was the only woman he would ever love, Gwen was the same about her son Connor’s father, Thomas, who had been taken far too young by cancer.
‘I was checking you were all right, actually.’ Harriet even at nine had liked to think she didn’t need anyone to take care of her. That was the character of her childhood, the oldest of four motherless children, she took her responsibilities seriously and along the way she had somehow forgotten to let anyone take care of her.
‘And I’m on ice duty. Freddie wants to drink all Father’s expensive whisky before the guests arrive,’ Gus laughed dryly, as he shuffled from foot to foot. He was wearing a smart black suit but Harriet couldn’t help but see him as the distraught nine-year-old who begged her not to go to boarding school. To her he would always be that boy. It had broken her heart to leave them when she was eleven, but her father insisted. Boarding school would be the making of her, he said, and wouldn’t listen to her pleas to let her stay at home with her siblings. Gus had followed two years later – a different school. Her father held old-fashioned ideas about education and was unmovable on the topic.
‘Here, I’ll get the ice.’ Connor, Gwen’s son, appeared, took the ice bucket and went to fill it. Although she had spoken to Connor at the church, seeing him, properly seeing him, now gave her a jolt. She immediately felt jittery and uncomfortable in his presence. Again, they used to be so close, he was her best friend growing up, but she hadn’t seen him for so long that familiarity had definitely faded. It was as if standing in front of her was a man she knew so well, but also a stranger. One that she wanted to reach out to but who made her feel unsure of herself.
‘Thanks, Connor,’ Gus said, taking the filled ice bucket from him.
‘Connor!’ Harriet breezed, collecting herself, a smile plastered to her face. ‘It’s been so long,’ she said, hoping her voice wasn’t as squeaky as she suspected.
‘Harry, you look exactly the same as you did ten years ago,’ he teased, wrapping his eyes around her. She disentangled herself from him as rapidly as she could without being offensive.
‘You git, I’ve aged horribly,’ she giggled. Goodness, that was the first time she had giggled in a long time. Connor had always had that effect on her. He was two years older than her, and she had adored him as a child, followed him around like a shadow. Well, the less said about that …
‘It’s really lovely to see you, Harry,’ he enthused.
‘So, you came back to Meadowbrook?’ Harriet said. She felt shy, awkward. Like the time she first got braces and refused to smile, lest Connor see them. That hadn’t turned out well of course.
‘You are the only one of the Singers I haven’t seen, and I’ve been back for three years, Harry.’ He shook his head reproachfully. ‘Living in one of the cottages, but anyway, I’ll fill you in later.’
Harriet opened and closed her mouth, goldfish-like, at Gus, who shrugged, and with his newly filled ice bucket headed out. And as she turned to follow him, she felt such a gulf between her life and her life. How had this happened? All her siblings had been part of Meadowbrook and only she had not. How and why had she let that happen?
‘Connor, Gwen, come join us,’ Harriet said, recovering, determined to resume control, of herself mainly.
‘Yes, it’ll be nice to toast your father, just the family,’ Gwen said, her voice catching as if on a rusty nail. Harriet felt her grief. It was all around her. In her siblings, in Gwen and Connor. She knew it was there, but even though she hurt inside, she was angry that she couldn’t see it in herself.
‘Goodness, how long does it take to get ice,’ Freddie cried, grabbing the ice bucket from Gus, as they returned to the study, and organising drinks for everyone. Finally, everyone had a very large, expensive whisky in their hands.
‘I propose a toast, to the old man,’ Freddie said, with a grin. They all drank.
‘And to his children,’ Gwen added. ‘He’d be very proud of you all today.’
Would he though? Harriet was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be proud of her in the slightest.
Chapter 2
‘Thank you for coming,’ Freddie said for the millionth time as people began to leave the wake. Pippa pinched him. ‘Ow. What?’ he asked, glaring at her.
‘It’s Mark, Pippa’s husband,’ Mark pointed out, shaking his head.
‘Oh goodness I didn’t recognise you.’ Freddie was slurring his words and Harriet knew he had put away enough whisky to render him almost blind. Freddie had always liked a drink, he was almost expelled from school for trying to brew his own vodka from potatoes when he was thirteen, but he excused it as part of his job as a party organiser in some of the hottest clubs.
Mark smiled, patiently. ‘I was in the pew with you in the church,’ he pointed out. He had his arm around Pippa, Harriet noticed with a pang of something akin to envy; he had been by her side for the whole of the wake. Although Harriet hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to Mark, she was grateful for him being there for her sister. Sad that she didn’t have anyone but happy Pippa did.
‘Oh, I’m sure you were, dear brother-in-law,’ Freddie said, pleasantly. ‘But unfortunately you have one of those forgettable faces.’
Harriet gaped at Mark, who looked a little red-faced, but then, to everyone’s relief, he laughed. Harriet let herself relax, and Pippa giggled. Freddie was a terror, but so lovable. She’d almost forgotten.
Her relationship with Gus over the years was distant, and Freddie was well, Freddie. Pippa had kept in touch via email but those emails didn’t tell the story of what was really going on, nor did Harriet’s replies. Harriet felt as if her siblings were out of her reach in many ways. Being back at home with them, having to say goodbye to her father, it hit her how much she actually missed them. How she should have tried harder to keep them together. How much she wished her father was still here to tell her how.
Thank goodness the wake was winding down – if Harriet had to smile any more, she felt her face would split in two. Her feet were killing her, she hadn’t anticipated how much standing she would have to do, but it had definitely been an event. The Singers didn’t have any other family; her father had been an only child, her mother’s family was pretty much an unknown quantity, but the villagers had shown up in full. It seemed as if most of Parker’s Hollow had come to her father’s send-off and it was clear, touchingly clear, that her father was a very popular man.
Either that or the village had heard about his wine collection.
Impulsively Harriet grabbed Pippa’s hand.
‘Come with me,’ she said, dragging her away as Mark was being cornered by one of the village’s older ladies.
Harriet ushered Pippa into the study, where she sat down and started spinning in her father’s chair. She felt dizzy and a little nauseous, so it possibly wasn’t her best idea. Pippa sat on the desk, cross-legged, taking up most of the available space. It was a scene from their childhood. But Pippa was no longer a child, she was a woman, a married grown-up. A stunning grown-up woman.
Harriet didn’t think she was beautiful like her younger sister. Pippa looked like their late mother with her white-blonde hair, blue eyes and slender figure. Harriet took after their father more. She had dark hair, was taller than Pip and her features were even, some would say striking, but not ethereal like Pippa’s.
‘I miss him,’ Harriet said, simply.
Pippa’s eyes filled with tears, but Harriet remained dry-eyed. She wanted to cry for her father, but it was as if the tap of tears had been turned firmly off. Not that Harriet was much of a crier. She had cried a lot when she was a child, well she probably had; she assumed she did. But after her mother died, she realised that she was the oldest and that meant she had to behave as such. She had to look out for her brothers and sister and suddenly tears didn’t seem to have much of a place in her life. Harriet had become so good at shutting off her feelings, she wasn’t sure how to conjure them up anymore.
‘Me too. I still think he’s going to walk in any minute. It’s funny isn’t it, how long it’s been since we’ve all been together.’ Pippa sighed. ‘I mean, it’s been years since I’ve spent any proper time with you.’
‘I know, it’s my fault. I mean, being in New York. I didn’t even come home for Christmas. I hadn’t seen Dad since your wedding. I Skyped him every week, but I didn’t come and visit. And now he’s gone.’ Harriet swung the chair violently. The guilt was strangling her.
‘We didn’t know he was going to die,’ Pippa said quietly.
Harriet nodded. No, they had no idea that he was dying, and she knew if she had she would have rushed back to see him. But what sort of daughter did that make her? One who would only fly across the ocean to say goodbye? It didn’t make her feel any better about herself.
‘Pip, shall we go to the summer house?’ Harriet asked. She had no other ideas of how to reconnect with her siblings, but the summer house was somewhere they all spent time together when they were children. She wanted to find some of the closeness they used to have, which at the moment felt as if it was out of reach.
‘Yes please,’ Pippa replied, wiping tears from her cheeks.
‘What do you think Dad would make of this?’ Freddie asked later as the sky darkened and the four of them sat on comfy floral sofas in the summer house, their childhood den, drinking champagne straight from the bottle.
‘That we are a bunch of delinquents but at least the champagne is vintage,’ Harriet laughed.
‘He certainly thought I was a delinquent,’ Freddie said, laughing sadly. No one argued. Freddie was tall, over six foot, with blond hair and blue eyes, like Pippa he took after their mother. He was so good-looking that often women – and sometimes men – threw themselves at him.
‘But would he think we were OK?’ Gus asked. ‘I mean, would he, like Gwen said, be proud of us?’ Gus sounded so downcast, Harriet wished she knew how to reach out to him. Gus looked more like her than the others. Dark hair, as tall as Freddie, but with features which as he got older more resembled their father. He was good-looking but his face so full of sorrow that it was hard to see how attractive he used to be.
‘He loved us all, I know that,’ Pippa said fiercely. ‘I know he was hard on you guys, but he did love us all.’ It was clear that Pippa felt guilty that she had had an easier time of it than her siblings. It was as if their father used up all his expectations on the older ones and let Pippa do pretty much what she wanted, including not going to boarding school.
‘He did. I know he did. He might have been a bit unorthodox as a parent sometimes,’ Harriet said, swigging from the bottle again, ‘but I agree with Pip, he loved us.’
‘I will miss the old bugger,’ Freddie said, and she saw his eyes fill with watery tears. She wanted to reach across and hug him but she still didn’t know how.
‘Me too.’ Gus looked forlorn.
‘Let’s drink to that,’ Harriet said, needing to lift everyone’s spirits, including her own. ‘Our wonderful father, the old bugger, may he rest in peace.’
‘Either that or haunt us all for eternity,’ Freddie finished.
Chapter 3
Harriet felt her hangover taunting her before she was ready to wake up. Her head was pounding, her mouth dry and, as she tried to process the events of the previous day, she wanted to vomit. Bury father, be polite to strangers at his wake, attempt to bond with siblings. Cry? No, her eyes were still resolutely dry.
It had been bittersweet spending time with her brothers and sister yesterday. They had got drunk, yes, and they had also talked, or at least tried to. It was still slightly awkward between them, they were all lost in their own thoughts about their father, but it was progress of sorts. There had been no terrible row, but they had all drifted and it felt as if she was in the company of three polite strangers – or two polite strangers and Freddie. Harriet knew that she had to ensure her siblings didn’t drift apart again, and she had to find a way for them all to reconnect. Keeping the family together would be her priority even when she was back in New York. After all, now that her father was gone, she was head of the family.
The summer house party had ended when Mark and Gwen arrived, asking if they wanted anything to eat. Pippa had got up, stumbled, so Mark had said he would take her back to the house for a lie-down. He practically had to carry her as they all went back up to the house where leftover food from the wake served as supper.
She woke up in her childhood bedroom, although at first it seemed alien. When each child turned twenty-one, the rooms had been redecorated one by one, starting of course with Harriet’s. Her father said it would always be her room but a grown-up version, suitable for her becoming an adult. It had been transformed, a beautiful king-size bed with a fabric headboard, the bed linen matched the curtains and the room was painted a pale blue. She had kept her dressing table, which once belonged to her mother, but that was the only thing left from her childhood. It was a gorgeous room, with an en suite bathroom, but she had barely spent time in it. As she stretched out in bed, she was hit with another bolt of regret. She wished she had visited more, she knew she would feel remorse for not seeing her father – in person rather than on a computer screen – before he died, for the rest of her life. She wished the house hadn’t become a stranger to her and she wished she hadn’t let her relationship with her siblings drift the way it had. But she also knew that all these thoughts weren’t going to do her any good. Self-pity wasn’t something that Harriet usually entertained; she wasn’t going to start now.
As she slowly sat up, she noticed she was only half undressed. Which meant she had committed the cardinal sin of not taking her make-up off. But then it wasn’t every day you buried your last remaining parent, so surely she was allowed this one sinful night? She wondered what time it was in New York. She wondered what the markets were doing, what her trading floor was up to? But then she realised it would be shut, quiet, sleeping right now. As she should be.
She assumed she was suffering from jet lag, as it was only five in the morning, either that or too much alcohol. Harriet liked a drink; her lifestyle allowed for the odd bottle of wine, or a few cocktails at the weekend, but she rarely got drunk. It was one of her many control issues. She had always been charged with being a control freak; she had only a flimsy argument against that accusation.
She reached into her still unpacked suitcase – another unusual thing, normally when she went anywhere the first thing she did was unpack and hang up her clothes – and rummaged for her gym clothes. She pulled them on and made her way downstairs.
The house was quiet as she went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and then made her way to the basement which her father had converted into a gym and swimming pool. She smiled at the memory of him doing it. It was an ambitious move, turning a dusty basement into a state-of-the-art fitness centre, and they’d all been over the moon at the idea of having a swimming pool. Gosh, she never fully realised quite how spoilt they were. They had had parties there as teenagers; weekends at Meadowbrook Manor were very popular among her friends. Her father liked having the house full, he said it gave the place life, and kept him young.
Andrew also said it was his way of taking good care of himself. He swam every day, and she replayed the pride in his voice when he told her: ‘Fifty lengths at least every day, Harry. I’m in tip-top condition.’ She felt her heart hurt as she heard his words. Because he was only seventy and for a man who ruled the world as he ruled his world, it was far too young to die.
Feeling angry, suddenly – angry, tired, and fed up – she made her way to the treadmill and started pounding as hard as she could. She wanted to outrun the hangover, she wanted to outrun the grief that was beginning to chase her and she wanted to outrun the feelings that were creeping into her. But she knew she would never really outrun any of it. She put her music on as loudly as she could bear and kept running.
It was nine by the time she had taken a long shower and made it downstairs to the dining room where a full breakfast was laid out waiting for them. Her father had probably studied Upstairs, Downstairs, when he first became rich, because breakfast was always laid out, buffet-style, in heated silver dishes on the sideboard in the dining room. According to Gwen, she did it even when it was just him. Harriet felt a pang at the vision of her father sat on his own at the huge dining table, eating a breakfast fit for a king. Not to mention poor Gwen who would have probably been happier serving Coco Pops and toast, but no, there was a full English – fried bread, toast, eggs, even kippers. He was a big fan of kippers.
Gus was sitting at the table, with a newspaper, Pippa was sitting opposite, Mark next to her. Harriet smiled at each of them.
‘No sign of Freddie?’ she asked, trying to sound breezy as she went to fill her plate. She was glad of the full English, goodness knows her hangover needed it. The treadmill had dulled it a bit but it was still there.
‘Probably still in bed,’ Gus replied.
‘Can I pour you some coffee?’ Pippa asked, picking up a silver coffee pot. No sign of a hangover on her face.
‘I’ll do it,’ Mark cut in before Harriet had a chance to reply. ‘So … does anyone know what the plan is?’ Mark asked as he leant across the table to pour Harriet’s coffee.
She tried to weigh him up, as she had no idea what he was like. He was older – ten years older than Pippa – but handsome and well dressed. Conservative. Pippa, who had always been quite bohemian growing up, hair flying wildly behind her, barefoot if she could, had definitely changed. She was wearing slacks and a blouse, something the old Pippa would never have owned, and her hair was perfectly done up in a chignon. She sported a full face of make-up and expensive pearls at her neck. But then what did Harriet expect? They had all morphed into adulthood, and she was different now, of course they all were.
‘What plan?’ Harriet asked, stirring her coffee and hoping it might make her feel better.
‘Well, unfortunately I need to get back to Cheltenham, to work …’ Mark started. He was incredibly attentive to his wife.
‘The will’s being read today,’ Gus said, without looking up from the paper. ‘Pip needs to be here for that.’
‘Darling, you can go home and I’ll get someone to drive me after,’ Pippa offered, touching her husband on the arm.
‘No, darling, you need my support. I’ll stay here. I’ll juggle a few things.’ He kissed his wife on the cheek.
‘But I don’t want to put you out?’
‘Pippa, I’m staying, that’s that. You need me.’
‘Oh there you are!’ Freddie, looking utterly dishevelled, appeared at the door, interrupting any further debate.
‘Fred, are you all right?’ Harriet asked.
‘I think so, although I need to throw up.’
Harriet wasn’t sure who was the most surprised as he did just that, all over the dining room floor.
‘I’m going for a walk around the garden if anyone fancies it. Goodness knows, I need some fresh air,’ Harriet announced after breakfast was finished. Gwen had not only cleaned up after Freddie but she’d also brushed away any offers of help to clear up after breakfast. Harriet had learnt from an early age that it was best not to argue with Gwen. She was very much in charge of the house, and although that meant clearing up after everyone, she liked it that way. If Harriet so much as tried to move a plate, Gwen seemed to appear from nowhere and snatch it away.
Gwen used to live in a cottage on the estate, which was still hers as far as Harriet was aware, but she had moved into the house after Pippa left home. It always gladdened Harriet to think of her father having Gwen there to take care of him. She wondered what she would do now.
‘I’ll come,’ Pippa said. ‘I’m sure Mark will welcome some peace.’ She smiled.
‘Well I could come—’ Mark started.
‘Really, no need, you do some work, I want to catch up with the others anyway,’ Pippa said.
‘I’m in. Shall I try to get Freddie or leave him?’ Gus asked.
‘No, get him, if he’s cleaned himself up.’
As Gus went to see if Freddie was going to join them, Harriet felt her spirits lift a little. They were all together and she was slowly remembering how much she loved her siblings. She wondered if their father was watching them now. Of course she didn’t believe in all that life after death stuff, but she liked the idea that he was.
The four of them stood by the back door – Mark had gone off to do some work. Harriet was wearing her gym trainers, the only flat shoes she owned, jeans and a light sweater. Pippa pulled on a pair of wellingtons that she kept at the house, Gus was wearing trainers and Freddie, a pair of ratty Converse.
‘Shall we go survey the land?’ Freddie asked, looking a bit the worse for wear but sounding like someone from Downton Abbey.
‘Sure, let’s do it,’ Harriet laughed. ‘Or at least the top gardens, Pip said that Dad had done a great job with them lately.’
‘He has, they’re really beautiful.’
‘All we’re missing is a gun and a dog,’ Gus said, cracking a rare – for him – joke.
Harriet had forgotten how beautiful Meadowbrook Manor was, as they set off. They headed towards the sprawling gardens, out of the back door, which were even more spectacular than she remembered; perfect lawns, lush greenery and the most beautiful flower beds. As she looked to the horizon, the garden, which seemed to stretch for miles, was awash with colour. Meadowbrook Manor spanned acres and acres in total, but the garden was separated by a tall hedge, where her father had secret doors installed so they could get through to the fields, meadows, and woods beyond. As there were public footpaths running across the land in places, he wanted the gardens defined so he didn’t find people wandering around them. He was quite welcoming, but he didn’t like the idea of people he hadn’t invited in his private space.
‘Wow the air here is so different from New York, I’d forgotten,’ she said, breathing deeply. The warm air, the slight breeze rippling through, was helping her head settle a bit.
‘I wish you were nearer,’ Pippa said, linking arms with her sister. ‘I miss you.’ Pippa found affection so easy, Harriet envied that too.
‘I’m sorry I’m not better at keeping in touch, just so busy. I should have come home more.’ She felt the inadequacy of her words.
‘It must be hard being such a success,’ Gus said.
‘Hey, Gus, I hear your business isn’t so shabby,’ Harriet replied, light-heartedly. Gus had always suffered from an inferiority complex. It was unfounded, of course. She often thought it must be hard to be the child in between her, always competitive and desperate to achieve, and Freddie who just charmed his way through life. She looked at Gus and, not for the first time, wondered who he actually was, or what he wanted in life. He seemed so, well, just so disappointed.
‘It’s hardly cutting edge. A successful, yes, but plainly dull insurance company in Bristol. Insurance, I mean who ever thought they wanted to work in insurance?’ He laughed, but it sounded hollow.
‘I certainly never did,’ Freddie unhelpfully replied.
‘Everyone needs insurance,’ Harriet pointed out.
‘Pah. Look at me, I’m divorced, with a job I hate, a daughter who I barely know how to communicate with. It’s not what Dad planned for my life that’s for sure,’ Gus added.
She wanted to tell him that her life wasn’t perfect either, far from it in fact. Yes, she was successful, money not an object, but her personal life … well that was a mess. But she couldn’t find the words.
Gosh, she felt so responsible for them all again. Although she knew she would have to go back to New York she suddenly didn’t feel like rushing back. She had taken immediate compassionate leave, but there had been no duration specified. She knew she would need to speak to him; her boss and also her lover. The shameful secret she hadn’t shared with any of her family, that she was sleeping with Zach, boss and married man. She didn’t like to think too much about the wrongs and rights. It was what it was, after all.
They all stood, instead, and admired the rose garden which was filled with beautiful buds, looking as if they were desperate to explode into colour. ‘Who does the garden here anyway?’ Gus asked suddenly. ‘It looks so gorgeous, like those gardens you see at the Chelsea Flower Show.’
‘Didn’t old Jed die years ago?’ Harriet said, bringing herself back to the conversation. Jed had been their gardener and lived in one of the three cottages on the estate, alongside Gwen’s and what was now Connor’s. He’d been part of Meadowbrook, and insisted on working well into his old age, and when he died, their father was devastated. He loved the old gardener, they all did. Gus, she suddenly remembered, used to trail around after him helping in the garden when he was a kid.
‘There’s a lady now,’ Pippa said. ‘She’s a fancy garden designer and has a team who work on it, but also the village gets involved.’ Pippa gestured to the gorgeous space they were all looking at.
‘Right, come on, let’s go and walk, that should blow the hangover away before we have to hear the will.’ Harriet strode off, feeling purposeful.
‘What do you think he’s done? I mean, I know there’s a lot of money but—’ Gus looked uncomfortable, probably because their father used to say that talking about money was common and Gus hated anyone thinking he was greedy.
‘Oh, knowing Dad, he’s left it all to some home for wayward hamsters,’ Freddie laughed. Their father had an animal sanctuary on part of Meadowbrook land, Connor and he had opened it three years ago when Connor first came back. Harriet had heard plenty about it from her father, but she didn’t pay too much attention. But it wasn’t unlikely that the money would go to it, she laughed, to herself. Freddie pulled out a hip flask and took a slug.
‘Freddie, didn’t you have enough last night?’ Harriet chastised, shaking her head.
‘Hair of the dog.’
‘Fred, you don’t want to be pissed when the will’s being read,’ Gus said.
‘I probably do, especially if he’s left everything to the hamsters.’ Freddie drained his hip flask. Harriet couldn’t help but giggle. Yes, her brother was a bit wild, which made Gus’s sensible, slightly dull manner seem even more pronounced, but he was funny with it.
Chalk and cheese, yet thick as thieves. Harriet heard her father’s voice. She looked around, of course it was madness, to think he was there, but their dad had always said that about her brothers and she felt warm as she replayed the phrase in her head.
‘Right, well perhaps we ought to walk a bit quicker, David will be here soon.’ Harriet changed the subject and hustled her siblings on.
‘Harriet, I’m so pleased that you are still as bossy as I remember,’ Freddie quipped.
‘I’m not bossy, Fred, I’m just trying to get you organised.’ Harriet tried not to feel offended but she remembered how she used to be called bossy, bossyboots, or ‘yes boss’ as a child, often preceded by a swear word as they got older. Apparently, she always told them what to do and they were too scared to argue with her.
‘Gosh, you used to boss us about something rotten,’ Pippa said.
‘I’m afraid you did, Harry,’ Gus finished.
‘Right, well then let’s finish this walk and then get your arses back to the house.’ A smile curled at Harriet’s lips.
‘Yes, boss,’ Gus replied and he grinned back at her.
Chapter 4
The family solicitor was almost as familiar to Harriet as Gwen. David Castle had been in and out of Meadowbrook for as long as she could remember. He was a few years younger than their father, still practising law, showing no signs of wanting to retire as he wore his customary pinstripe suit and silk tie. He had been at the funeral, of course, where they had greeted him like an uncle, but now he was there in an official capacity and suddenly everything felt serious. It wasn’t the money. None of them, as far as she knew, was desperate for money, or the house. Goodness knows, she had already been agonising about what they would do with Meadowbrook now. After all, it was their childhood home, the last place they had to remind them of both parents and it was her father’s pride and joy. If they had to sell it, it would be another step in saying goodbye. First was the death, then the funeral and now this. It was all taking their father further and further away from them. She couldn’t imagine not having Meadowbrook or another family living here, but then what choice did she have?
They all sat awkwardly waiting for David to speak. Mark had wanted to join them, arguing that Pippa needed his support, but David told him that the strict instructions were that it was only the four of them with him in the room.
‘You all know that your father wasn’t always orthodox,’ David said, as he cleared his throat, tugged at his tie as he stood behind their father’s desk. They all nodded. ‘And although I told him it was probably a terrible idea, he wanted to make a video recording for you.’
Harriet startled. She wasn’t sure how she felt about seeing her father’s face on a screen, or hearing his voice again.
‘You’re bloody kidding?’ Freddie asked.
‘No,’ David continued. ‘I’m afraid not. He wouldn’t be dissuaded. He said, and I quote, “I want to say goodbye to my children this way and I saw it in a film once.” And I also want to warn you that its contents aren’t exactly normal either. So, I shall play it for you. Are you ready?’
The four siblings looked at each other. Harriet thought they most definitely weren’t ready. But they all stared at the TV screen on the wall of the study as David pressed a button on the remote control.
After a while an ear appeared on screen.
‘Can you see me? Well can you?’ their father’s voice boomed. Harriet jumped. It was as if he was in the room with them.
‘Um, only your ear,’ Gwen’s voice replied.
‘Well move the bloody camera, Gwen,’ Andrew said and, after a few more swear words, his face appeared.
‘Oh my.’ Harriet took a sharp intake of breath. She saw his face every week on their Skype calls but seeing him on screen like this, knowing he was buried in the ground, threatened to derail her. For the first time since her father died, she felt tears burning behind her eyes. Pippa was already sobbing; Freddie had his arms around her. Gus was staring at the screen as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing and Harriet, who was sat next to Gus, finally felt as if she might be able to cry.
‘Right, you all listen carefully now,’ Andrew continued in his loud, clear voice. ‘I’m sorry that I’m dead. I might be a lot older than I am in this video, but I’ve a feeling that I’m not. The doctor said my heart wasn’t the most stable and I knew that it might give out at any time. I could have maybe had some surgery but I didn’t want to do anything which didn’t come with a guarantee, and surgery didn’t. But living does, because living comes with the guarantee of death. So I chose that.’ He paused, turning his head. ‘Gwen, are you getting all this?’
‘Yes, Andrew, clear as a bell,’ Gwen’s voice replied. Goodness, it didn’t surprise Harriet that Gwen was her father’s partner in crime on this.
So, her father shunned surgery, without even discussing it with them. That made her angry but also, it made sense. Her father hated illness, didn’t believe it in. As children, they had to be practically hospitalised to get a day off school.
‘Right, so I’m dead, and you’ve buried me now, so all that remains is for you to hear about my last will and testament. And I know, you’re not greedy children, but anyway I have money, and I’m dead, so I don’t need it and it has to go somewhere.’ He took another pause.
‘He looks as if he’s enjoying this,’ Freddie pointed out.
‘He certainly likes saying that he’s dead a lot,’ Harriet concurred.
‘It’s so strange,’ Gus said.
‘Daddy could be eccentric,’ Pippa pointed out.
He started talking again and they all fell quiet.
‘So where was I? Ah yes, my last wishes. Well my dear friend David will have a copy for each of you, and as I don’t know what date it is – I mean, I know what date it is today, but I don’t know what date it is when you are watching this, then I cannot say for sure. Gwen, does this make sense?’
‘Not really, Andrew,’ again Gwen’s voice rang out.
‘OK, so this isn’t exactly my will, I’m not sure how legal a video recording would be, but the thing is that David will read you my final will and testament a year from the day when you are hearing this. To reiterate, this isn’t my will, it’s kind of a pre-will, and in a year’s time you’ll hear the final thing.’
‘What the hell?’ Gus said. The four siblings looked at each other aghast.
‘What the hell I hear you ask?’ Andrew continued. Harriet shivered, this was beyond bizarre. Seeing, hearing, her father like this, it was both comforting and uncomfortable. ‘Well, you see, my dear children, it’s like this. I might not have been the best father to you all. I tried, but after your mother died, as your only parent, I feel I was lacking. I tried to give you all you needed, or all I thought you needed, education, money, ambition and strength, but I’m not sure I was able to show you how important happiness was, because after I lost your mum I forgot how to be happy a lot of the time. I missed her, I missed her dreadfully, and when she died a part of me died with her, but I couldn’t fall apart, not properly, because I had you four.
‘I know I pushed you all to do well, I wanted you to be carbon copies of me, but only because that was all I knew how to do. And I think I made a mistake. I think your mother would have taught you to be who you wanted to be and I fear that I always tried to drive you to be who I wanted you to be. And at the same time I spoilt you all materially.’
Harriet felt thick with emotion. Yes, her father had been a hard taskmaster but she loved him and it killed her – bad choice of words – that he felt he had failed them. Why hadn’t she ever told him that he hadn’t failed them? Now it was too late.
‘Now I am proud of each of you, I know you didn’t always think I was, and I know I didn’t say it enough, but I am. My only regret is that I didn’t try harder to keep us closer as a family. I let you go too easily.
‘Harriet, my darling firstborn, you are such a high-flyer and I couldn’t be prouder, but I wish I had tried to get you to visit me more. I would so have loved to see you in person and not just on the computer. Although it’s too late for regrets now I know that.’ He seemed to look right at her and Harriet felt sick.
‘And, Gus,’ he continued, ‘I didn’t support you enough with the divorce. I sometimes think that I only saw you because of Fleur and I adore my only granddaughter but I love my son too and I’m not sure I ever told or showed you that enough.’
Harriet couldn’t look at Gus; she couldn’t bear to see the hurt on his face.
‘And also, Gus,’ their father continued, ‘I never let you be who you wanted to be. That is my biggest failing. One I wish to rectify now, but more of that later.
‘Right, Freddie, well you are the most infuriating of my children, all that party, club stuff, but I wish I had reached out to you and made sure that you were all right and not doing drugs or having sex with women in nightclub toilets all the time.’ Harriet glanced at Freddie, she was pretty sure that was exactly what his job entailed. ‘Freddie, you might be a party boy, and the only of my children who asked for money on more than one occasion …’ Now they all looked at Freddie who blushed. ‘But I should have tried to get you to settle down, and I feel that I might have failed you in that. If so, I am sorry. You have such potential and if you want to do your parties then that’s fine, but you need to grow up I’m afraid, we all do at some point, and perhaps I should have helped you more with that.’ Freddie wiped a tear away.
‘Finally, my little Pipsqueak, well I saw more of you than the others, but still I worry about you. I don’t feel that you are as happy as you deserve to be. I’m not sure if it’s Mark – I think it is him – but you didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask. I think I should have asked more about all of you and I feel if I had been there for you all, then you all would have been closer to each other.’ He looked and sounded as if he was choking up. Harriet had never seen her father cry but this was close. ‘I love you all, so so very much.’ There was another pause where they saw their father pick up a glass of whisky and take a drink.
‘This is surreal,’ Freddie said. ‘I mean, wow, really? Are you sure we can’t have a drink?’
‘Shush,’ Gus told him as their father began to speak again. Harriet felt the familiar voice stirring her emotions. It hurt her, slicing through her. Grief. Finally this was the pain that she wanted to feel, to prove that she was alive and that she loved her father. He was like a god to her. That wasn’t in dispute. But now, apart from on the screen where he was slightly left of centre, she would never see him again.
‘I will miss each and every one of you, please believe that. And I want to put things right for all of you, so that is why the following might come as a shock to you. My actual will will be read a year from today. David will take care of that. Have I already said that, Gwen?’
‘Yes, Andrew, I told you you should have written a script.’
‘No, it’s all here, I don’t need a script.’ He tapped his head. ‘And until then, I need you to fulfil my last, dying wish. Or dead wish because I am dead of course. Ha!’ He paused and stared straight at the camera.
‘We are sure he’s dead?’ Gus asked. ‘Because this is madness, and I have the feeling he’s going to jump out at any time and say this has all been a ruse to get us home.’
‘He’s dead, Gus,’ Harriet almost whispered.
‘And I am dead, so this isn’t some kind of sick joke. You know I didn’t joke enough when you were young. I was so driven, so busy making money. I should have had more fun, but now is not the time for that. So, you will all be here a year from now to hear what happens to my considerable fortune and the house. But I will tell you this, Gwen is taken care of, as is Connor, and Fleur, but you guys will get the rest of my estate, the money and the house. All equally split of course. I know you always thought I had favourites, but I really didn’t.’
‘Well now we know that, why do we have to wait a year?’ Harriet asked. ‘This makes no sense.’
‘Why do you have to wait a year in that case?’ Andrew continued. ‘Well, you see there are conditions to the money. You four will equally divide the bulk of everything; the money, the house, art, et cetera, anything that isn’t specifically bequeathed to anyone else. But before you get anything, you have to agree to my conditions. Firstly, you must all live together in Meadowbrook Manor for a year.’
‘What?’ Freddie yelped, making Harriet jump.
‘Yes, I repeat, you will live here, all of you together. It’s time you were a family again and this is the only way I can make it happen. And I know you are all going to say that it’s impossible because of your jobs and, Pippa, of course you’re married to Mark, but actually you can all take a year off. I have looked into it and given it a great deal of thought. Here’s how I suggest it will work.
‘Harriet, you’ve been working since you graduated, you never take holidays, you don’t seem to have a personal life, or if you do it’s not one I would approve of, so for you to take a sabbatical wouldn’t be difficult, plenty of people do. You say you have to sort out your father’s estate, which is true. But I think the break from the city, from the rat race and New York, will do you good and give you a chance to reconnect with your siblings.’
Harriet sank back into the sofa. Her father was clearly mad and this was impossible, she couldn’t even conceive such a ridiculous idea.
‘Gus, I know you hate your life. You don’t like your job, your wife left you for another man.’
‘I’d forgotten that,’ Freddie interrupted as David sighed and pressed pause. ‘I mean that your wife went off with another man.’
‘My squash partner,’ Gus said, sadly.
‘I didn’t know people played squash these days,’ Freddie replied, looking confused.
Harriet rolled her eyes. ‘David, can we get back to this?’ she asked.
David nodded and resumed the video.
‘So, I feel as if that is my failing too,’ their father scratched his head, ‘oh, not your wife leaving you, I’m not going to take responsibility for everything, but the job. You loved painting, do you remember, just like your mother, and you showed talent but I said painting was only for vagabonds who wanted to cut parts of their body off. In retrospect, that was possibly a bit harsh, but I’m not an art expert and I only really know the story of Van Gogh, so I kind of tarnished them all with the same paintbrush. Ha! Anyway, the truth was that your mother loved to paint and we built the summer house as her studio. After she died, I turned it into a den for you and I couldn’t bear to be reminded of her in the early days so I dissuaded you from painting.’
‘Dissuaded? He banned me from painting.’ Harriet squeezed Gus’s hand. Gosh, she’d forgotten that Gus had the artistic gene, inherited from their mother, but it had been knocked well and truly out of him. He looked about as much like an artist as any insurance salesman did.
‘Of course,’ Andrew continued, ‘if I knew that would send you to work in insurance I probably wouldn’t have stopped you. I mean, insurance! Come on, Gus! You got married young, and wanted to be the man you thought I wanted you to be, and that was my mistake. I want you now to be the man you want to be. So take a year off work, I know your company is in good hands. Take time off and paint for God’s sake.’ They all jumped as he slammed his hand down on the desk. ‘Ow. Sorry, but, Gus, if you go to the attic you’ll find all your mother’s paints still there. Take them. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, son.’
Both her father’s eyes and Gus’s were full of tears now.
‘I don’t know if I can bear this?’ Pippa said.
‘Freddie, oh my boy. You could always charm the birds out of the trees. But you like the finer things in life and you seem to have a misguided way of getting them. This party, or clubbing business, well it’s not fulfilling you, I can tell. It’s time for you to settle down, grow up and do something which satisfies you, but not just in a hedonistic, superficial way.’
‘How well he thinks he knows me,’ Freddie quipped, but he looked downcast.
‘And finally, my Pippa. You are so like your mother in many ways, not with the art, you were always totally rubbish at that, but in other ways. Not least your looks. And I want you to be happy. I didn’t care that you didn’t have the ambition of your siblings, I didn’t care that you didn’t want to work, but I did care that when I gave Mark permission to marry you that I may have made a huge mistake. In the last year I’ve seen a change in you and I don’t know what’s caused it. So, anyway, I know if you live here with your siblings for a while you’ll have some distance from him at least. I’m not saying leave him, but I am saying if you do as I ask, you’ll have options and maybe some space to think.’
‘God, Pip, I had no idea your marriage wasn’t great,’ Harriet said.
‘It is great. Dad’s wrong, our marriage is good, and I really don’t know what he’s talking about,’ Pippa shot back.
‘And if you want to stay with him then that’s your decision and I will respect that from my grave. Although if I can figure out how to haunt people he’ll definitely be on my list.’ Andrew laughed so hard he had a coughing fit.
David Castle pressed pause. He looked slightly uncomfortable. ‘Are we all all right up to now?’ he asked.
‘I’m a little confused.’ Harriet took charge as she always did. ‘I mean, he really expects us to live here for a year, and only then will the proper will be read? Is that correct?’
‘It’s bloody insane,’ Gus blustered.
‘What about Mark?’ Pippa added.
‘Are you sure I can’t have a drink?’ Freddie pleaded.
‘Right, well, of course, as his solicitor I am privy to the exact terms, and I’ll hand them out to each of you when the video is over. But now I’ll try to make it clear thus far. Your father indeed expects you all to live in the house together for a year. It’s the first condition. It’s not the only one.’
‘And if we refuse?’ Harriet asked. Her life was in New York. She owned her apartment, she had a job, a highly paid, important job. She had a group of friends that she went for cocktails with at least once a week. She had a personal trainer. How could she leave all that? She couldn’t. It was impossible.
‘Then the estate will be disposed of as per your father’s instructions. He was serious about this – if you don’t live here, then you don’t get a penny.’
‘Well how about if one of us agrees or two of us and the others don’t?’ Freddie asked.
‘That won’t work. Either all four of you live here or none of you. There are no variables.’
‘And what are the other conditions?’ Harriet asked. This was ridiculous. She loved Meadowbrook, but she didn’t need the money, so she could walk away. But, on the other hand, what about the others? And what about the fact her father wanted them to do this. She’d be defying him, letting her family down. Her head started aching, it was all so confusing.
‘You’re about to find out.’ David pressed play and their father’s voice rang out in the room once more.
‘I hope you all living here in Meadowbrook Manor for a year will redefine your relationship with each other. As children you were all so close, but well, I know when I sent Harry to boarding school it started to change. I do take responsibility for that but I can’t turn the clock back. I am sorry. I want you all to find your way back to being a family and this is the only way I could think of to do that. Now, you guys know about my animals.’ David pressed pause again.
Harriet had never seen the sanctuary, but she’d heard plenty about it from her dad. Harriet had to admit she had only shown a very cursory polite interest in it. She had sort of put it down to him going slightly mad with loneliness, if she was honest. Rescuing animals in order to rescue himself. But she never said that.
‘I visited Daddy’s animals all the time,’ Pippa said. Pippa probably encouraged him to get more as well, she was so soft.
‘Fleur loved going with Dad to see them too,’ Gus added sadly. ‘She helped out at the sanctuary quite a lot.’
‘Not you, Gus?’ Freddie asked.
‘No, unfortunately I seem to be allergic to most animals,’ he replied.
‘But when we were young we had dogs and cats and you were OK,’ Freddie pointed out.
‘I obviously developed the allergies as an adult.’ Gus was determinedly not meeting anyone’s eyes.
‘More likely that you just didn’t want to get your hands dirty,’ Freddie quipped.
‘Shut up, Fred.’ Harriet was reminded of how much the two boys bickered when they were young.
‘Can we please get on with it,’ David interrupted gently, looking at his watch. ‘I know it’s a lot to take in but, unfortunately, I have other appointments.’ He looked guilty as he pressed play again.
‘Right, so probably all of you know how important that sanctuary has become to me.’ Andrew shifted in his chair. ‘But it’s also important to Connor, and the village and – most of all – to the animals we help. Year on year we have grown in size, had so many different animals, and as well as my children, and the house, it really is my pride and joy. So the second condition is that you run the animal sanctuary with Connor, to ensure it stays open, thrives, which also involves raising money for it; an amount that you will find specified in the exact terms.’
‘Oh God, no.’ Freddie put his head in his hands.
‘Oh yes.’ It was scary how their father seemed to hear them. Or maybe, Harriet thought, he actually knew them much better than they gave him credit for. ‘I expect you to help Connor, I expect you all to get your hands dirty – you’ve become too soft the lot of you – but more than that, you will also take over my role, which was the finances among other things. We raise money by holding village fêtes, open days and all sorts of events. It not only brings in money but it helps to involve the community of Parker’s Hollow and keeps the sanctuary profile raised. If it thrives under your management, that will also ensure you all get to share the bulk of my estate. But, of course, if you don’t raise the funds specified, then you forfeit any right to the money or the house.’ He took another drink out of his tumbler. ‘And it will all go elsewhere.’ He sat back looking triumphant.
Harriet didn’t know how to describe the emotions that she was feeling. Just what was her father thinking? They had barely been able to keep a goldfish alive between them as children. How on earth were the four of them supposed to run an animal sanctuary? As well as live together at Meadowbrook? It was utter madness.
‘Can I just summarise?’ Pippa asked. ‘Not only do we have to live here for a year, without my husband, but we also have to run an animal sanctuary, raising money to keep it open?’
‘Yes, that’s about right,’ David replied, his face expressionless.
‘I supported Dad’s rescue centre, I really did, but I didn’t expect to have to work for it!’ Pippa looked terrified. ‘And how on earth am I supposed to explain all this to Mark? I mean it’s not as if we need the money.’
When they were younger, it was clear that although the loveliest, Pippa wasn’t the most academic of the siblings. Harriet was academically gifted, everyone said from the minute she started school really. Gus, not quite so, but he worked hard and got very good grades. Freddie was also cleverer than he liked to make out, though he was lazy, but Pippa, well, she was terrible at school. She just got by, but because she tried hard she was never in trouble, but you could see the teachers scratching their heads. How could the Singer siblings have a Pippa among them? Of course, when it was discovered she had dyslexia that explained why she found some things so difficult and it did become easier with the right help; Harriet had spent hours trying to help her with homework back before she went away to boarding school. But Pippa was beautiful, she was sweet, she was kind, and she wasn’t interested in school. Harriet remembered being jealous when Pippa begged her father not to send her to boarding school and he agreed. But she felt guilty when she confronted Pippa about this and her little sister admitted that she could cope with being near the bottom of the class at home, but only just. She didn’t want to go to Harriet’s school and be in the shadow of her clever sister.
When Pippa left school, she embarked on a number of courses. Cooking, flower arranging, she took a childcare course, typing, just about everything available, but she told Harriet nothing felt right. And, of course, being the only child still at home, Andrew was happy to let her carry on doing what she wanted. Soon after, Pippa told Harriet she had met someone and was in love. And that someone was Mark and they had a fairytale wedding. So why did her father seem to think he was bad for her? From what Harriet had seen, admittedly in a very short time, he seemed to take care of her, protect her, which was what their father would have wanted. Surely?
‘Right, kids, I am sure I have given you more than enough food for thought,’ her father’s voice interrupted her. She still couldn’t get used to seeing him, hearing him, yet knowing he was gone for good. She wanted to reach out and touch the screen, just to be able to one last time, but she knew it was him but not him at the same time. The voice, the confident, loud, slightly booming Somerset lilt that was so familiar, would soon be gone. She almost couldn’t bear it. ‘But to conclude. If you agree the terms, the final will will be read in a year’s time and you’ll all be rich. As for other provisions, Gwen gets her cottage, a sum of money, and she has a job for as long as she wants one, and that certainly includes this year. Yes, she is your housekeeper, but she’s there to check on you all, make sure you are all right, take care of you all. And Connor, he gets his cottage, some money, and I expect you to support his work. I’ve set up a trust fund for Fleur. But I can’t stress enough, the animal sanctuary must flourish, it’s so important to me and I hope it will become important to all of you too. How you divide the labour is up to you.’ There was another pause but no one dared speak.
‘In conclusion, my children, I love you. I miss you, but I hope that by doing this I will have given you the best gift that a father can give. You might not think so now, but mark my words, the animal sanctuary helped me, maybe even saved me when I was lost, and as you, my children, are all lost in your own ways, I fully believe it will do the same for you. And at the same time you are getting your family back. And trust me, it might be too late for me, but it’s not for you. You will see what’s important, I truly believe that, and I will never stop loving you.’
There was a pause as their dad stared straight ahead of him. Harriet looked across at her siblings who all had shocked expressions, which hers probably mirrored.
‘Was he of sound mind?’ Gus asked.
‘Clearly not,’ Freddie said.
‘He was. I think your father has made his intentions clear,’ David stated, gently. ‘He was unorthodox, you know that, but he was your father and those are his wishes.’
‘And if we want to contest this?’ Harriet said.
‘There would be no point. Your father was sane, he was very certain of this plan, which I hope you will all respect.’
‘But if we do, respect it, as you say, we have to all live here together and run an animal sanctuary?’ Pippa looked distraught.
‘Yes. I know it sounds unusual, but, well, that was what your father wanted. I’ve got it all typed up here, a document for each of you with the exact terms.’
‘Right, I don’t care what you say, I bloody well need a drink now,’ Freddie stated, getting up and pouring himself a large whisky.
Pippa rubbed her temples as everyone began speaking at once.
‘SHUT UP,’ she heard her father’s voice say from the screen. As it had gone quiet, they forgot the video was still running. They all obeyed once more, perhaps for the last time. ‘You can do this, you will do this; I have every faith in you. I didn’t do this for my own enjoyment, if that’s what you’re thinking. But if you can undertake my wishes, then you will make me very proud. More importantly you will make yourselves very proud, and that is what I want more than anything.’
The four of them stared, open-mouthed, at the screen.
‘Gwen, did you get all that?’ Andrew Singer asked, standing up. He was tall, like Gus and Freddie, his grey hair was neat and he was wearing a V-neck sweater and chinos, his favoured casual wear.
‘I did, Andrew,’ Gwen replied.
‘And how was I? Was I all right?’
‘Just as good as any Hollywood actor, Andrew,’ Gwen replied before the screen went black.
Chapter 5
‘What do we do now?’ Gus asked, waving a copy of the document that David had handed over to them before he scarpered. He promised a meeting as soon as they’d had a chance to digest things. But after what they had just experienced, Harriet wasn’t sure they would ever digest it. The feeling of unease that her father’s video had left her with sat heavily on her stomach, and she couldn’t seem to order her thoughts. Lost, she poured and handed out brandies for them all. After all, it was supposed to be good for shock and they were definitely in shock.
‘Go and muck out some pigs, I am guessing,’ Freddie joked, but he wasn’t smiling. ‘Do we even have any pigs?’ He stared into his glass.
‘Daddy did love that sanctuary,’ Pippa mused. ‘Oh God, Mark is going to be so upset about this.’ She chewed her bottom lip, a habit she’d had when she was anxious since childhood.
‘But, Pip, what Dad said about him?’ Freddie started.
‘I don’t know what he was talking about,’ Pippa replied. ‘Mark and I are very happy. I just don’t understand where that even came from.’
‘God, are we grasping what he’s asking? Run a rescue centre for animals, fundraise and live here, all together? For a whole year!’ Why did their father think that they would, or should, give up their lives? It made no sense. Even his explanation didn’t add up. And Harriet felt guilty, but she knew there was no way she could do it, no matter what the consequences were. Oh yes, she could take some time out to sort out her father’s estate, but if it was more than a week or two, some hungry younger person would be snapping at her heels to take her place at work. And she would never, ever give up her beloved job. Never.
‘It’s so much, so so much.’ Gus’s face was ashen.
‘Look, we need time to think. Pip, you need to talk to Mark, so I suggest that we all take some time and I’ll go and see Gwen and tell her we’ll have a family dinner tonight to talk about it.’
‘Still the same old bossy, Harry,’ Freddie said.
‘And thank goodness – someone needs to be,’ Harriet bit back before leaving the room.
She found Gwen in the kitchen, pulling a freshly baked cake out of the Aga and then she saw Connor, sitting at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea. The large kitchen was the only room which didn’t have her father’s stamp on it. It had, as long as Harriet could remember, been Gwen’s domain and she had made it her own. It felt like a proper country kitchen. Huge pine table, the largest Aga they could get; it was always warm and welcoming, filled with the aroma of delicious food. But the main difference was that Gwen had filled the two ancient dressers with her personal knick-knacks as well as the crockery and dinner services that they used. The array of china chickens, pigs and her extensive egg-cup collection had been growing ever since Gwen had moved into the kitchen. There was something so charming about it. Not least that her father found it horrific, but he quickly learnt not to interfere in her kitchen. Harriet remembered her chasing him out once with a wooden spatula when he tried to tell her what to do. No one messed with Gwen’s kitchen.
‘Hello, love,’ Gwen said. ‘Can I make you a cuppa?’
‘No I’m fine, thanks.’ Harriet smiled; Gwen was wearing her apron, Harriet could count the number of times on one hand when she had seen the housekeeper without an apron tied around her waist. There was Pippa’s wedding, and of course yesterday, at her father’s funeral.
Gwen was younger than her father at sixty. She had grey hair, worn in a sensible bob, and a fair few lines scattered on her face made her look her age, but she was fit and healthy. She had the energy of a much younger person. Her loyalty to the family had been one of the few constants in Harriet’s life. Harriet remembered coming home from school to freshly baked biscuits or cakes, but Gwen didn’t overstep the mark, she never interfered unless they asked her to. Harriet felt a pang of love for the woman who had always been there for them.
‘So, obviously you’ve seen the video,’ Gwen said, chewing her lip nervously.
Connor locked eyes with Harriet; God, his eyes were piercing as she was hit by a jolt. He always had those mesmerising eyes which made her feel he could see inside her. She felt like a foolish little girl again. The girl whose childhood consisted of mainly trying to impress him.
She and Connor had grown up together, along with her other siblings. But the two of them would often sneak off from them to go exploring. Connor was fascinated by wildlife and he always had some plan to find animals which usually involved either climbing trees, looking in hedges or jumping into the lake. Harriet usually got roped into carrying his equipment around, nets, ropes, binoculars, cameras. She was his packhorse. But back then Harriet had been happy to trail around in wellies with him. Having so much land around Meadowbrook meant that they had enjoyed an almost feral childhood. Although of course they also had the best of everything, they were encouraged to explore the outdoors, running through fields, paddling in the lake, climbing trees; it was incredible, but a different world to corporate Harriet. Almost as if it had happened to someone else. Although Connor was clearly still living that life. Whereas for her, in New York, jogging in Central Park was as outdoorsy as she got these days.
‘Yes, Gwen “Spielberg” White, we certainly did,’ she joked, hoping to cover up how unsettled she felt.
‘Oh, Mum, was your filming that bad?’ Connor asked, lips curled up in amusement.
‘It certainly was not. Well, not for my first time,’ Gwen replied, giving her son a swat on the head. ‘Although I don’t know if I’ve got a future in it, to be honest.’ She smiled.
‘I don’t think the quality of the filming is the debate we’ll be having later,’ Harriet said. Gwen looked a little embarrassed. ‘Gwen, we’re going to have dinner together to discuss it, is that all right?’
‘Of course, I’ve got a roast on for you all, I thought you might need fortifying. What time do you want to eat?’
‘About seven-thirty? I think tonight we need to chat about what we are going to do.’
‘Quite right,’ Gwen said. ‘You’ve got decisions to make.’
‘We do. Big decisions.’ Harriet’s eyes narrowed.
‘I know it’s none of my business,’ Connor said. ‘But it must seem quite ridiculous at the moment.’
‘Yes, and as it involves the animal sanctuary it is your business. But it’s surreal. I heard Dad talk about his animals but I didn’t really give it too much thought,’ she said, pointing an accusing finger at Connor. ‘I guess we also need to have a conversation about the sanctuary, I know it’s your baby.’
Connor’s eyes lit up. ‘Yes, it is my baby and Andrew’s too. It’s something I’d always wanted to do, and well, Andrew had the land, so when he got involved it was wonderful. He loved it, Harry, he really did, but I’m not going to give you the hard sell. It’s important, not just to your father’s memory, but you’ll see that for yourself. When you’re ready.’ His eyes were full of passion, which only fuelled her guilt.
‘Right, I might go for a bath before supper, I’ve got so much to think about,’ Harriet said, leaving the warmth of the kitchen. She needed to clear her head, after the brandy and the pre-will, or whatever it was called, and, fingers crossed, a relaxing bath would help.
Chapter 6
Harriet lay back, closed her eyes and relaxed in the hot bubble bath. She felt her muscles all easing as she let herself luxuriate in the hot water. This was another unusual step for her, taking a bath rather than a super quick shower. In New York her apartment didn’t have a bath, she was constantly rushing, she had forgotten how to go slowly, but Meadowbrook seemed to be gently reminding her. And as she thought about her father, and his will, her siblings and the decisions facing them all, she enjoyed the hot water and the feeling of being still.
Only when she was about to turn into a prune did she get out and change for dinner. She had only a limited wardrobe of clothes with her, after all she expected to only be home for a week or so, but she pulled on a pair of black trousers and a cashmere sweater. She was a little anxious for the evening ahead, it was going to be a difficult discussion, and she had a feeling that she would be terribly unpopular when she told them that she couldn’t possibly do as their father wanted. Of course she couldn’t. Her father was right in so many ways. Her work life was great, her personal one pretty dire, but he didn’t understand how much she had invested in New York. She couldn’t give that up, it just wasn’t possible.
Freddie was mixing drinks when she entered the drawing room. This was her father’s favourite room, it was huge, with three custom-made sofas, a smattering of upholstered armchairs, a huge open fire, and floor-to-ceiling windows which looked out onto the small lawn that edged the drive. It used to have a grand piano in it. She remembered how when they were young the siblings would sit on the piano stool and bash the keys. But it was her mother’s, and her father had got rid of it after she died. He couldn’t bear to have it in the house and none of them had ever been encouraged to take piano lessons. A bit like with Gus’s art, her father had obviously found it too hard.
‘Hey,’ she said to Freddie. He smiled. He was too thin, she decided. Fred had always been tall, slender, but his cheekbones jutted out just a bit too much now. Perhaps she would ask Gwen to feed him up. She’d love that.
‘Vodka Martini?’ he asked.
‘Bloody hell, Fred, that’s brutal,’ she said as she took a sip of the glass he handed her. As the alcohol slipped down, she felt calmer, despite the fact that on sip two she would possibly be drunk. ‘But you definitely know how to mix your drinks.’
‘It’s one of my limited skill set. Dad, when I visited, said I made the best Martini and we’d sit and drink two, only two, together before dinner. It was our way of bonding.’
‘Did you get home much?’ Harriet felt the swords of guilt stabbing her again. All her siblings were here in their own way, for their father.
‘Lately yes. I liked to get away from London.’ Freddie’s face darkened. ‘So I spent a bit of time here. You know, I think that’s part of the reason for the weird video-will thing. He worried about us, I know he worried about me.’
‘Did he need to worry about you?’ Harriet asked evenly. He shrugged. ‘I miss him,’ she said, feeling an urgent need to think about her dad, to talk about him.
‘I do too. God, remember growing up? He used to push us, sometimes I felt he was unreasonably hard, other times I felt we, or at least I, needed it. He told me that my job wasn’t a job but an extended party. He kept waiting for me to realise that and find something grown-up to do. His favourite thing to do was to be my career counsellor.’ Freddie gave a dry laugh.
‘Annoying.’
‘Yes, but I would give anything to be annoyed by him right now.’ Tears shone in Freddie’s eyes.
Gus walked in, downcast, which seemed to be his usual state these days. Harriet wished she could hug him, but they didn’t have that relationship, or not right now, but when they were younger, they had been so close that they were practically joined at the hip. Especially after losing their mother, when they both felt as if they needed to take care of the younger ones. But when Harriet was sent to school it changed. When she came home in the holidays there was a distance between her and Gus which they tried hard not to notice. A distance with all of them which had never fully recovered.
Gus had married his university girlfriend, Rachel, when she got pregnant with Fleur at twenty-two, a shotgun wedding hastily arranged, so the distance between brother and sister had increased. They worked hard to maintain some kind of relationship, but Harriet didn’t get on with Rachel, or actually vice versa. So they drifted more and when Harriet moved to New York, their contact was limited to emails. She sent gifts for Fleur of course, but Harriet had been about as bad a sister and aunt as she had a daughter.
But when had Gus got so dour? He was never quite as laid-back as Freddie – no one bar a recliner chair was – however, he didn’t used to be this uptight either.
‘I know, new resolution, whatever we decide about Dad’s crazy will, I want us to behave like a family again,’ Harriet said, feeling a sudden urgency for her family.
‘I’ll drink to that.’ Freddie handed Gus a Martini and replenished his and Harriet’s glasses.
‘Blimey, Fred, this will have me under the table in no time,’ Gus said, taking a sip.
‘Good, you need to loosen up,’ Freddie replied with a wink.
‘Yes, well you might regret saying that when I’m legless,’ Gus laughed. Harriet wished she felt as easy with them as they seemed to be with each other.
‘Am I late?’ Pippa asked as she entered the room.
‘Just in time for a drink,’ Freddie said, pouring her a Martini and hugging her warmly.
‘Fred, did you make a vat of that?’ Harriet asked.
‘No, just a jug.’
‘Has Mark gone?’ Gus asked.
‘Yes, he has to work tomorrow and, well, we need to make a decision, of course. I felt as if it would be impossible but Mark made me see that it’s not necessarily so—’
They were saved by Gwen appearing. ‘Dinner’s ready, loves,’ she said.
‘Gwen, you know we can clear up after dinner,’ Harriet said. ‘It’s been a tough few days and we’d rather you relaxed than waited on us.’
‘Are you sure, I don’t mind?’ Gwen replied.
‘Honestly, it’s not on. We are big enough to clear up after ourselves, and I know full well you’ll be in that kitchen first thing in the morning making another delicious breakfast. Please,’ Harriet begged. She knew Gwen felt the need to work, but not every minute of every day. ‘Either go and see Connor or watch your soap operas!’ They both laughed. Harriet remembered how her dad hated her watching EastEnders back when she was young so she would sneak to Gwen’s cottage and watch it with her; their secret. Another memory that she had buried. How many more would there be?
The air was thick with anxiety as they went through to the dining room and they took their seats. It felt formal, serious, and Harriet had a thousand thoughts whooshing round her mind. They all faced each other; their father’s chair at the end of the table conspicuously empty. Plates of food sat in front of them, along with empty wine glasses. Gwen, despite being told that they didn’t need such formality, said she liked doing things ‘properly’. As wine was poured, silence descended. They tucked into their food, Harriet was glad to eat, although she felt a little fuzzy from the Martinis. She barely tasted the food.
‘OK, I guess it’s time for us to discuss what we are all thinking,’ Harriet said, taking charge yet again. Yes she was bossy, but she was the oldest and being bossy hadn’t done her any harm. She had become the youngest female Vice President in her department at the investment bank. And she headed up a large team, mainly men, earning a salary that most people could only dream of. So, being bossy worked for her, why change it?
‘Well Gwen has surpassed herself again with this dinner. She’s such a treasure,’ Freddie quipped.
‘You know what I mean. Dad, his will, or pre-will. Meadowbrook Manor and the animal sanctuary. Am I the only one who’s never seen it?’
‘Yup. They’ve built it out past Gwen and Connor’s cottages. Paddocks have been cordoned off, there’s housing for all the animals as well as a specific cat home and dog home,’ Pippa said.
‘I’ll see Connor and get him to arrange for me to have a guided tour,’ Harriet replied, efficiently. Despite the Martinis and the wine she was currently drinking, her brain had gone into work mode. She knew full well she wouldn’t be able to do what her father wanted, but she needed to see what her siblings thought before she showed her hand.
‘And animal sanctuary aside, what about living here? I mean how random is that?’ Freddie quipped.
‘Let’s go round the table and discuss what each of us thinks about it,’ Harriet suggested. ‘I mean, is it even possible for us to put our lives on hold for a year?’ No, she wanted them all to say. The idea that she might be the only one to cost her siblings so dearly seemed unthinkable.
‘OK, boss,’ Freddie laughed. He downed some more wine and topped up his glass, spearing a potato with his fork at the same time. ‘Well, I am currently living with my girlfriend, the lovely Loretta.’
‘Hey, how come we haven’t heard of her?’ Harriet asked.
‘Well I have, actually,’ Pippa replied.
‘Me too,’ Gus added, leaving Harriet feeling an outsider yet again.
‘Why wasn’t she at the funeral?’ Harriet asked a little more aggressively than she intended. What the hell was wrong with her? She felt a burning jealousy that the three of them all had a part in each other’s lives, but she was the one who took herself away from them. It was her fault.
‘She’s overseas, working – she’s a model. So she wanted to come but couldn’t. She’s gone for about a month. Anyway, although I am not sure I can cope living with all of you, I personally think we should honour Dad’s wishes.’
‘What about Loretta?’ Harriet asked, surprised by Freddie’s easy compliance.
‘What about work?’ Pippa asked, echoing her thoughts.
‘Surely they can survive without me for a year. Loretta can stay at weekends and I can still be involved with work, remotely. Did the terms say we could do that?’
‘I haven’t read them yet,’ Harriet replied. She had scanned the document, but because of the impossibility of the whole thing, she had yet to properly read it, was there any point? ‘OK, so Fred’s in. Gus?’ Harriet felt her heart sink. Surely Gus would put a stop to this nonsense?
Gus exhaled. He looked as if he carried the world on his shoulders and he also looked exhausted. His face seemed to wear sorrow which Harriet knew couldn’t just be down to their father’s death. Yes they were all grieving, but with Gus there was definitely more.
‘Well, funnily enough, I was thinking of taking some time off work. And Fleur loves it here, so it might help with our relationship. She’s twelve, going on twenty, and I feel that I have no clue how to be with my own daughter.’
‘Gus, what’s going on?’ Harriet asked. First Freddie, now Gus?
‘Oh, you know, the usual, premature midlife crisis and all that. And, you know with Dad dying, it’s just been a bit tough, but the point is that despite the fact I’m not keen on running the animal sanctuary, I would be open to living here. You see the alternative, not having the house in the family, seems wrong.’
Harriet had thought about that. Yes it would be terrible not to have Meadowbrook in the family. God, almost unthinkable.
‘But say we do this, for a year, then what?’ she asked.
‘Who knows,’ Gus replied. ‘I guess we cross that bridge when we need to, at the moment we just need to focus on this year.’ Harriet glanced around, surely they didn’t think this was a good idea? What on earth was going on?
‘Mark and I talked, as I started to tell you when we were in the drawing room,’ Pippa explained. ‘He said it was my decision, although like you, Fred, he said that we should probably honour Dad’s last wishes. In fact, he was rather encouraging, quite disproving what Dad said. I know we’ll find it tough being apart all week, but he could come here at weekends. That’s all right in the terms actually, I checked with David.’
‘But you are prepared to live apart from your husband all week?’ Harriet didn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice.
‘I don’t agree with what Dad said on the video, so don’t think that. We’re happy, Mark and I love each other and he proved that by saying that he would let me decide what to do about this whole thing. So I think that our marriage is strong enough for this, for anything, and I really would like to do what Daddy wanted us to.’ A lone tear rolled down her pink cheek.
Harriet remembered Pippa’s wedding day, the last time they had all been together. She’d spent a week with her family at Meadowbrook. The wedding was held in the village church and the reception was in a huge marquee in the grounds of the Manor. Pippa was young, not quite twenty-five and so excited. She was so radiant, she glowed. And her dress, a beautiful designer gown, had been stunning. It had almost made Harriet cry, almost but not quite. Mark looked handsome, top hat and tails, and their father radiated pride as he gave his youngest daughter away. Harriet was her maid of honour and, at that time, not wanting to be married, had enjoyed her sister’s happiness.
‘So, Pip, you’re a yes?’ Harriet couldn’t believe it. ‘Not more than a few hours ago we were all saying Dad was mad.’
‘Well we still think that, but this doesn’t seem to be so much of a hardship,’ Freddie said. ‘In fact, perhaps Dad was right, it’s a gift. I mean, we all get to spend time together, re-evaluate everything, and as has already been said, we should do all we can to keep Meadowbrook in the family. So, Harry, that just leaves you …’
Harriet sighed, this wasn’t exactly how she thought it would go. ‘Look, guys, I get that it’s all or nothing and I don’t want to take it away from you, but I have quite a job, as you know. I’m not sure I can just take a year off, I’m not sure they’ll let me. It’s complicated.’ She hoped she didn’t sound too self-important.
‘But you will see if you can, will you try?’ Gus asked. ‘Look, I’ve never been after Dad’s money.’ Gus looked down at his nearly empty plate. ‘But you know, he wanted us to have it. And, of course, there are our families to think about. Not just Fleur, but your future kids, if you have any. I’m happy to give as much as needed to the animal sanctuary, I don’t need a lot to live on, but I don’t want to lose all the family memories and that means keeping Meadowbrook. And it also, to me, means honouring Dad’s memory and doing what he wanted us to do.’
‘It’s all we have left of Mum and Dad,’ Pippa said, another tear rolling down her cheek. ‘I don’t want to lose it but, more importantly, like Gus, I want to do what Daddy wanted us to do. Because he might not be here, but he’s still our father.’ Pippa’s voice was full of emotion and something Harriet had to respect; passion. As her three siblings all nodded in agreement, she felt guilty, wretched. She didn’t have such a straightforward decision. If she said yes, she would kiss goodbye to her job, oh and her relationship, or whatever it actually was. If she said no, then she would lose her siblings and Meadowbrook. It was a lose-lose.
‘I need to check in with work.’ Harriet stood up, she needed to get out of here, have some time to think. She had mixed feelings; panic, anxiety. She loved her siblings, she loved her job; she was sleeping with her married boss. They had had an on/off affair for about five years now; something she hadn’t planned but more fallen into. She wasn’t proud of that, but Zach, successful, powerful, was a difficult man to resist. And as much as she enjoyed being with him, she loved her job even more.
‘Gwen’s left an apple crumble in the Aga,’ she said, collecting herself, refilling her wine glass, as, heart thumping, she left the room.
She made her way upstairs to the first floor. There were five bedrooms here and five on the second floor. The first floor housed the family’s bedrooms, the top floor the guest rooms, but, as far as she knew, her father didn’t have many guests. As children they used to play upstairs, but then they pretty much ran around everywhere in the enormous house. They were fairly wild at times, various nannies tried to tame them, Gwen too, but they didn’t quite manage it.
Harriet opened her computer. She knew the drill; it would be easier to email Zach, who never took his eyes off his mailbox, and get him to call her urgently. She needed reassurance from him that this was a terrible idea and that there was no way she would be able to stay at Meadowbrook for even a month let alone a year.
Zachary Matthews, the man she had walked into the interview room ten years ago with a desperate need to impress. He was tall, with curly brown hair, dark eyes, and a presence so commanding she was drawn to him like a magnet. She was so focused on the job, nothing would stand in her way of the much-wanted move to New York. She and Zach worked closely together and at some point they ended up in bed together. It hadn’t happened overnight, it had taken almost five years before anything happened. A work trip to Washington, too much wine with dinner, and then up to his hotel room. He didn’t sugarcoat anything, romance it certainly wasn’t, but that was what Harriet wanted, needed, understood. No strings, nothing to detract from her job, no emotions. Harriet didn’t even know if she had emotions anymore. They were the same person; driven by making money, excited by the deal, obsessed by work, by succeeding.
She didn’t focus too much on the fact that she was sleeping with a married man. And every time her moral compass seemed to right itself and she decided to end things, Zach would smile at her and they’d end up in bed. Was she the only one? She doubted it. But there was something powerful about him. And something safe. Harriet certainly didn’t worry about him falling in love with her and she didn’t need to worry about falling in love with him. She had let that happen once and it didn’t end well.
But now her father had died. Which made her question what the hell she was doing.
She took a deep breath as she opened up her email and, scanning through the spam, she noticed an email from work. It was from the director of HR, with Zach copied in. As her thumping heart slowed to a dull thud, she felt bile rising in her stomach as she read it.
A knock on her bedroom door roused her back to the present.
‘Can I come in?’ Pippa asked, tentatively, as her head poked around the door.
‘Sure,’ Harriet replied, quietly.
Pippa made her way over to the king-size bed and sat down. Harriet was still at the dressing table, staring at the screen in front of her. Shock, fear, hatred all fighting to dominate her emotions.
‘So, did you call the office?’ Pippa asked. Harriet turned her head to look at Pippa. ‘Harry? Are you all right?’
‘I just checked my emails.’ She could barely believe what she’d just read. ‘And look.’ She picked up her laptop and took it over to the bed, sitting next to her, so Pippa could read the email. Harriet needed her to do so, because she still hoped she imagined it. It was as if she was in a nightmare.
‘It says that they’re making you redundant?’ Pippa said, eyes wide in shock.
‘Yes. Paying me off. Restructuring my department.’ Harriet shook her head. Zach hadn’t even sent a personal message. Her boss, the man she had been sleeping with on a semi-regular basis, had used her father’s death as an excuse to get rid of her.
‘But I don’t understand, they can’t do this, I mean you’ve come home for your father’s funeral.’
‘I think they must have been planning it, even they couldn’t come up with this in twenty-four hours.’ She paused to think. ‘Actually they could.’ Redundancy packages had been put together in a matter of hours. She should know, she had been behind some of them. Her stomach plummeted even more.
‘That’s terrible and surely not even legal.’ Pippa was outraged. ‘Surely you could threaten to sue them.’
‘I could, but I won’t.’ Harriet felt her body deflate.
‘Why not, Harry? That’s not like you. Why won’t you at least threaten them?’
‘Because, Pip,’ Harriet’s eyes swam with tears, ‘I’m not proud, but I’ve been sleeping with my my married boss.’
Pippa’s mouth gaped open. She shook her head and shut it. ‘But, I don’t understand, if you’ve been sleeping with him, why is he getting rid of you now?’
‘I don’t know.’ She really didn’t. But she did know that she would never walk onto that trading floor again. Feel that exhilaration of anticipation of the day ahead. Hear the buzz of the phones ringing, computers beeping – her favourite music. How on earth was she supposed to live without that?
‘What a bastard. To do it just after you buried your dad. And not even tell you himself. I mean, I can’t condone you sleeping with a married man, Harry, that was wrong. Oh goodness, what a mess.’ Pippa sounded distraught. Harriet looked at her. She was no longer the kid that Harriet felt so maternal towards.
‘Exactly, without my job I’m nothing.’ She felt tears threatening her, and she was almost ready to welcome them.
‘Oh, Harry, I am so sorry.’ Pippa hugged her.
‘It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have done it,’ Harriet stated, feeling self-loathing.
Pippa didn’t argue with her.
Harriet suddenly saw her life clearly. She worked long hours, mostly six days a week, she went to the gym to stay in shape, one of her closest friends was her personal trainer for goodness sake. She had a best friend, Mimi, who knew most things about her and a handful of social friends, all high-flying single career women who she drank cocktails, ate at the latest restaurants and bitched about work and men with – in that order. She had a beautiful but barely furnished apartment – who had time to decorate a place that she barely spent any time in? A wardrobe of fabulous clothes, ditto shoes, and a city life that she was in no way ready to leave behind. She was struck by the realisation that her life was lacking in real relationships, and maybe a bit lonely at times – was this what her father meant?
‘Ah. Well, listen, Harriet, I know now’s not the time to think about the future, because it’s so raw and such a shock, but we’ll sort it out. If you don’t want to fight them, then take the money, and at least you’ve got us and Meadowbrook,’ Pippa said.
‘Oh, Pip, I don’t know, I don’t even know how I feel. I mean, I had barely processed the fact that Dad’s gone and now I’ve lost my job, all in one fell swoop.’ She stopped for a minute and thought back to her father’s video. Was he right about her after all? She had worked tirelessly to succeed, to be the daughter that he wanted her to be, had she lost herself along the way? Surely not. She shook her head. He was just rambling because he wanted his children all together – still trying to control them from beyond the grave.
‘I guess that means that you can stay here for the year though,’ Pippa said, uncertainly. ‘Maybe it’s fresh starts all round, and maybe Dad knew more than we ever gave him credit for.’ Pippa sounded anxious but Harriet wondered if she could read her mind. ‘We’ll be together at least.’ Pippa squeezed her sister. ‘And get to run an animal sanctuary,’ she laughed. Harriet did not.
‘I’m used to running a trading floor, with millions of dollars at stake every day, so how hard can running an animal sanctuary be?’ Harriet asked, and then she finally burst into tears.
The free sample has ended.
