Faith Bleasdale - Secrets at Meadowbrook Manor

Published by AVON

A Division of HarperCollins Publishers 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 © Diane Meacham 2018

Cover image © Shutterstock

Faith Bleasdale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © August 2018 ISBN: 9780008306953

Version: 2018-07-24

For Jo and Keith, thanks for all your support and inspiration.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright Published by AVON A Division of HarperCollins Publishers 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 © Diane Meacham 2018 Cover image © Shutterstock Faith Bleasdale asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Ebook Edition © August 2018 ISBN: 9780008306953 Version: 2018-07-24

Dedication For Jo and Keith, thanks for all your support and inspiration.

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

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

By the Same Author

About the Publisher

Gemma Matthews rang the buzzer, rubbing her gloved hands together and stomping her feet to try to ward off the cold. She had taken the bus, but still had a twenty-minute walk to get to the residential home. Despite the fact that she did the journey frequently, it was still a difficult one, in more ways than one.

The door was opened by Sarah, one of the carers at the home.

‘Gemma, come in, come in,’ she said, kindly, grimacing as a blast of cold air shot through the door. ‘Blimey, it’s freezing.’

‘Hi,’ Gemma said, still able to see her own breath. ‘How is she today?’ Gemma’s voice wobbled, as it always did when she asked after her nan.

‘Not too bad, love,’ Sarah replied.

Gemma nodded and made her way in.

The warmth of the nursing home hit her as soon as she closed the door behind her. She wrinkled her nose at the familiar smell; the aroma she now associated with old age. Kenworth House was a residential home specialising in taking care of dementia sufferers. Unfortunately Gemma’s nan was one of them, and she’d been here almost a year, ever since Gemma became unable to care for her at home. She signed in at the big marble reception desk, her signature like a spidery mess across the page. If it wasn’t for the smell, Gemma would think she had walked into a five-star hotel – the home was grand and expensive, which was reflected in its interior. Although Gemma knew they were struggling to afford to keep her nan here, she was determined. She had never been so determined about anything in her life, and now it seemed that determination had paid off.

She took the stairs up to her nan’s room on the first floor. Out of habit, she knocked on the door before opening it straight away. She took a breath; every time she walked through this door, she had no idea what would greet her. Would her nan recognise her? Would she welcome her even? One thing she had learnt about dementia was that it was riddled with inconsistency.

‘Hi, Nan,’ she said as breezily as she could, going straight over to where her nan was sitting. She bent down to kiss her cheek, breathing in the familiar lavender scent that characterised Gemma’s childhood, her family.

Her nan was staring out of the window, something Gemma often found her doing. She had a lovely view over the grounds of the home, which were vast with beautifully kept sweeping lawns, and flower beds ready to spring into colour. Her nan had always loved gardens, and Gemma was glad that she had this view.

‘Gemma?’ her nan asked uncertainly as she turned to her. Relief flooded through Gemma; it was a good day.

‘Yes, Nan, and I’ve brought you some flowers.’

She took a bunch of wild flowers out of her bag, and put them under her nan’s nose. Her nan smiled as she smelt them. One of her passions in life was gardening – her nan’s not Gemma’s. Gemma remembered how weekends would be spent with her nan digging, planting or weeding while Gemma would read a book outside if the weather was good, watching her, being close to her.

‘And of course your favourite wine gums.’

She handed them to her. Gemma liked bringing wine gums; when she was a kid, her nan would bring home packets from the post office on a Friday, and it would be a treat that Gemma looked forward to. After a fish and chip supper, they would share the wine gums. It was nostalgic but the only way Gemma felt she could cling to her past.

‘Thank you, love,’ her nan said with a slight smile.

‘Let me put the flowers in water,’ Gemma said quickly.

Her nan’s room was large, with a plush beige carpet, a bed, with an old-fashioned eiderdown covering it, and two chairs arranged around a small table. When her nan first moved in, Gemma had brought her favourite pictures to put up, including her wedding photo and a photo of her and Gemma when they were on holiday. The rest of the room housed a few of her books, which sat on a small shelf, although they were largely unread.