Faith Bleasdale - Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor

A beeping interrupted her dreams and as she woke, Gemma wondered briefly where she was. She fully opened her eyes, feeling momentarily content as she looked around marvelling at her surroundings. She stretched and felt as if her whole body had been rested. It was definitely the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in, and there was no denying that the bedding was of the highest quality, nicer than that of the last hotel she worked in. She had learnt all about thread counts and Egyptian cotton bedding, and her guess was that this was pretty damn expensive. Meadowbrook was pure luxury already, so to turn it into a lovely boutique hotel didn’t seem like much of a stretch. Although she had a long, long road ahead of her.

Last night she had eaten dinner with Pippa and Freddie in the kitchen. The others all had plans, but Gwen had prepared a meal – apparently she normally did – which they warmed up in the Aga. Gemma, having been too nervous to eat much in the days leading up to her arrival at Meadowbrook, devoured every delicious mouthful. Freddie had chatted about his ideas for a specialist cocktail bar as he kept the wine flowing.

Gemma had sipped the expensive-tasting wine cautiously.

‘Don’t you like wine?’ Freddie asked, refilling his and Pippa’s glasses but noting hers was still almost full.

‘Yes, but I’m just not much of a drinker,’ Gemma replied, taking a sip.

Freddie gaped at her in horror. Thankfully, Pippa had saved her by gushing about how much of a success the hotel was going to be now she was on board. The upside was that they didn’t expect much from her; the downside was that filtering all the information being thrown at her was quite exhausting.

After they’d eaten, Gemma had pleaded exhaustion and had headed off to bed early. There she washed, changed into her pyjamas, set her alarm and then settled down with her text books, reading as much as she could before she must have fallen asleep.

There was so much going on, and she needed to process it, but she was feeling very overwhelmed. She told herself it was only day one, and she had, if she survived her probation, six months to get plans for Meadowbrook together, so there was no need to panic just yet. But Gemma was good at panicking.

She sat up in bed and wondered what they would need to do to the room she was in. It was pretty perfect. Expensive wallpaper on some walls, Farrow & Ball paint on the others, along with furniture of the highest quality. There was a pale pink chaise longue and a pale grey velvet armchair, a dressing table with a stool that matched the chaise and a walk-in wardrobe, bigger than Gemma had ever seen. It looked shamefully understocked with Gemma’s clothes.

The en suite bathroom was also ridiculously luxurious, putting the beige suite in her nan’s house to shame. When Gemma thought about her daily routine there – the shower above the small bath that trickled rather than gushed and was never quite the right temperature – she couldn’t compare it. This was a million miles from what she was used to. The huge bath was brass coloured and was almost big enough for a family of four. The shower had its own compartment with a glass wall along one side and the largest showerhead she’d ever seen. The basin and loo matched the bath; basically, the whole room looked as if it had stepped out of an interiors magazine – which she was pretty sure it had.

Gemma thought, briefly, how she wished people could see her now. Sat up in the huge bed, about to start the job of a lifetime. Firstly her nan, who would be so proud to see her doing so well. Then those who hadn’t been quite so supportive. There was a long list, but at the top would be her ex-boyfriend, Chris, who had done his best to destroy what little self-esteem she had before dumping her when her nan took priority over his needs. And then her ex-boss, Clarissa, who took the tiny bit of self-esteem that she had escaped Chris with and tried to stamp all over that. They had nearly succeeded, but not quite, because she was here. She couldn’t believe it. Boring, ordinary Gemma Matthews was at Meadowbrook Manor.

She told herself off for getting carried away. She wasn’t here to gloat and of course, she needed to be vigilant; she had a huge task ahead of her. Being the sort of person who rarely got noticed throughout her life, Gemma noticed everything. That was one of her best skills, and she was sure that the key to the Meadowbrook Hotel was to find out what the house and the Singer siblings were really like, to unearth their personalities, to understand both the house and them fully. The hotel business was competitive and to stand out from the crowd wasn’t going to be easy. But she believed the answers lay somewhere within Meadowbrook’s walls.

Reluctantly getting out of bed, she opted for a quick shower – which didn’t disappoint – before dressing. Her heart sunk as she realised that she really hadn’t thought that latter part of it through. Not just because her clothes didn’t in any way reflect the glamorous surroundings, but also because next to the stylish Singer sisters, she felt dowdy. She had brought work suits – all grey, navy and brown – and very few casual clothes. And compared to Pippa and Harriet in their expensive jeans and soft cashmere jumpers, her clothes were cheap and outdated. Looking at the few bits she’d brought, she realised she’d stand out, for the wrong reasons. God, even Gwen was more fashionable than she was. She tried to breathe and told herself that she wasn’t going to cry or fall apart over her clothes. She would explain to Pippa that she hadn’t been sure what to bring and she would ask advice. After all, she could always go shopping at the weekend, although she would have to watch what she spent.

Previously, Gemma hadn’t the time, the money nor the energy to worry about what she looked like outside work. She had never been much of a girly girl. She didn’t make friends easily and the few friends she had tended to be as uninterested in fashion as she was. At her last job the women she worked with had all been bitchy and seemed to look down on her, mainly because of Clarissa, who had taken an instant dislike to Gemma and ensured everyone who wanted to keep their jobs followed suit. Pushing her dark thoughts away again, she turned her attention to getting ready.

She opted for a pair of dark blue jeans and a red jumper, which had seen better days but weren’t too bad, she supposed. But she still didn’t look like the Gemma she was trying to be and therefore she didn’t feel like her. Confident, capable and attractive, that was who she needed to be. That was who she wanted to be, and she would strive to get there. She needed to take pride in herself, not just for shallow reasons, but also it was time she began to believe what her nan had been trying to tell her all her life – that she was good enough.

Feeling like a visitor – which of course she was – she tentatively made her way downstairs, taking her time, drinking in her surroundings. She studied each piece of art, wondering what the origins were. She took her phone out and took photos – they would inspire her when she was working in her room, hopefully. She made her way to the kitchen, to find Pippa already there looking both groomed and beautiful. She was making a pot of coffee and munching a piece of toast at the same time.

‘Good morning, Gemma. I was going to bring you a drink, but then I realised I don’t know if you prefer tea or coffee, or how you take it,’ Pippa said, smiling warmly in greeting.

‘Coffee please, just white please, no sugar.’

Gemma went to stand by the Aga, enjoying the warmth. She watched how Pippa glided about the kitchen, making everything look effortless. Gemma sighed inwardly – would she ever be able do that? She took a seat at the kitchen table and when Pippa handed her her coffee, she decided to try to claw back some control.