‘Was your dad vegetarian?’
‘No, that was the irony of Andrew Singer: he rescued animals but he did eat them, well none from the sanctuary, of course, but from the local farm, and well, he justified it by not justifying it, really,’ Gwen explained. ‘Andrew made up his rules as he went along.’
‘Fred’s inherited that from him,’ Gus said.
Freddie scowled but didn’t argue.
‘When I got involved with the animals, I just couldn’t eat meat anymore. I have to admit, I do eat fish sometimes,’ Harriet added. ‘So I have put a ban on rescuing fish in the sanctuary.’ She laughed again.
‘I’m the same,’ Pippa said. ‘Actually, I’m trying to be vegan, but it’s not easy because I really like cheese.’
‘I’ve learnt how to cook more vegetarian food,’ Gwen said. ‘And I’m starting to look into vegan baking – we need to get ahead of the times, I always think. It’s becoming ever so fashionable, after all.’
‘You’re right, it is,’ Gemma said. Her nan wouldn’t have coped well with her being vegetarian. Especially as when she was a kid, they ate a lot of meat from tins, which thinking about it might not have actually been meat. ‘It could be a great angle for the hotel too.’ Her mind started whirring. ‘You know, a vegan hotel. I’ll do some research, but I’m sure they’re not very common.’
‘We don’t want to scare guests off, though,’ Harriet pointed out. ‘I think perhaps we should offer a fabulous vegan and vegetarian menu, but we should cater for the carnivores too.’
‘And it will create goodwill locally if we buy meat, like Dad did from the farmers,’ Gus pointed out. ‘My daughter Fleur’s a vegetarian and she called me a murderer the other day.’ Gus shook his head. ‘But then sometimes any excuse to attack me …’ He focused on his plate.
‘And I’m largely vegetarian, although I am partial to the occasional steak,’ Freddie offered.
‘So not really veggie at all, mate.’ Connor grinned. ‘More like a flexitarian.’
Connor was so lovely, Gemma thought, very different to Harriet, mainly because he wasn’t at all frightening. He was incredibly good-looking in a non-groomed, natural way, but he clearly only had eyes for Harriet, which actually made him even more appealing. He wasn’t quite Freddie-gorgeous, though, but then Gemma didn’t think anyone was.
‘OK, but we can definitely say we specialise in good, local, home-grown vegan food, it’ll be a good angle. I’ll put it down on my notes and do some research.’ Gemma continued to sound professional.
‘More wine, anyone?’ Freddie said, reaching for a new bottle and pouring it.
Gemma had barely touched hers, and she noticed him glare at her before moving on past her glass.
‘The wine is lovely,’ she said, trying to placate him.
‘How would you know, you’ve barely touched it?’ he pointed out.
‘I’ve had some and it’s delicious.’ She felt herself colour.
‘Never trust a woman who doesn’t drink – that’s my motto,’ Freddie said.
‘Don’t we know it,’ Harriet joked. ‘Although after your last girlfriend, you shouldn’t trust a woman who does drink, either.’
They all laughed, including Freddie.
‘Oi,’ Freddie objected. ‘But yes, you do have a point. Loretta drank like a bloody fish and was as untrustworthy as they come. Maybe I shall trust you after all, Gemma,’ he conceded.
She shook her head. This family was mad.
‘Well, I’d like to propose a toast,’ Pippa said, raising her glass. ‘Welcome to Gemma, and here’s to the Meadowbrook Hotel.’
Chapter 6 (#u79d4e4dc-7419-51b3-b8bb-ddc2604e61f9)
‘My God! It’s spectacular,’ Gemma breathed.
She was wearing a pair of Pippa’s skinny jeans, which she felt and looked good in, an oversized black jumper, wellington boots that were in the boot room and were Gemma’s size, and a stylish Barbour jacket. Gemma had been transformed into “country”. Even Freddie had done a double take as he passed her in the kitchen.
‘Thank you.’ Gus looked delighted. He had the family nose, like Freddie, and his hair, greying slightly, was the same colour as Harriet’s. Increasingly she saw similarities between the Singers – looks-wise. Personalities were an entirely different matter.
It was still intriguing how four children could be born into the same house, brought up largely the same way and yet be so different. As an only child, she would never have that experience. She often fantasised when she was younger about having a brother or sister. She would have loved to have someone, especially now, with her nan in such a bad way, but she didn’t, and she was cross with herself for dwelling on something that had never happened and never could.
Gus was taking her on a walk in Meadowbrook Manor’s “back garden”. Which, unlike any back garden she had ever seen, seemed to stretch for miles and was surrounded by perfectly trimmed hedges, all the same height.
‘Do you measure the hedges?’ she asked with a smile.
‘No, Gemma, but they are all pretty much the same height – our hedge guy is a perfectionist.’ He smiled.
The garden was dotted with beds full of different flowers and plants, leading to the award-winning rose garden, which was not in full bloom now but she couldn’t wait to see it when it was. There were a number of water features, which commanded attention, and a large fountain in the centre of the garden. At the very top, separated, were the vegetable gardens, fruit cages and a huge greenhouse. Gemma thought all it was missing was a maze. She wrote that down. But then, where would they put a maze and would they spend their time rescuing a drunk Freddie? She crossed it out.
Gus showed her the benches next, which were recently added so that visitors could sit and enjoy the gardens from every vantage point. He also explained why they had chosen various flowers. It was obviously a lot of work, but it was so worth it.
‘But wow, I mean I have never seen gardens this beautiful in real life. Only on TV,’ Gemma gushed.
She was struck, suddenly, by how much her nan would love to be here. This was the first part of her life that her nan wasn’t part of, that she couldn’t be part of, and whatever happened from here on in, it was just Gemma now. Oh, how she would have loved these gardens though.
‘What’s wrong?’ Gus asked, his voice full of concern.
‘Nothing, sorry.’ She tried to brush a tear off her cheek. What the hell was she doing? This was beyond unprofessional.
‘Gemma, are you crying?’ His voice, so full of warmth, set her off and before she could help it, she was properly crying.
‘No,’ she sobbed.
Gus led her to a bench, where he guided her to sit down.
‘Sorry,’ she said again.
‘Hey, I might be flattered that the gardens reduced you to tears, if they’re the right kind of tears, of course.’ He laughed.
‘Oh, but it is just the most beautiful garden I’ve ever seen. You see, my nan loved gardening. We had a good-sized garden, of course nothing like this …’ She gestured with her arm. She had told herself to hold back personally at Meadowbrook, but she had to explain her behaviour. ‘As I told Pippa, my nan is in a home, she’s got dementia, and I miss her.’
Gus gave her a brief but warm hug. ‘Hey, I miss my dad, you know. Especially out here, as he loved gardening too. I talk to him while I work. I know your nan’s not dead but, well, it must be terribly difficult.’
‘It is, but you know, life goes on as they say.’ Gemma tried a feeble attempt at a laugh, which sounded more like a gurgle.
‘Yes, but you’re human and that’s what Meadowbrook needs, so if you ever need to talk, I’m quite a good listener, as are the roses I always find.’ Gus grinned.
‘That’s kind of you to say.’ He was possibly the kindest man she’d ever met, although that perhaps wasn’t difficult.
‘I mean it, and you live here as well as work here, so I hope we will all be friends.’