A Year at Meadowbrook Manor: Escape to the countryside this year with this perfect feel-good romance read in 2018
‘A lovely heart-warming hug of a book about family and following your heart.’ Zara StoneleyOne divided family, one life-changing year…Harriet Singer hasn’t been home in ten years. When her beloved dad dies suddenly, she races to be there for her estranged siblings, despite the memories it brings back.Then Harriet learns that all four Singer siblings must live together for one year, caring for their dad’s Animal Sanctuary, or forfeit their inheritance.Living under the same roof could make or break the family, but it’s time Harriet stopped running and faced her past. Especially when her first love turns up…A heart-warming story about love, hope and family, perfect for fans of Cathy Bramley, Jules Wake and Heidi Swain.
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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.
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Source ISBN: 9780008287276
Ebook Edition © January 2018 ISBN: 9780008259808
Version: 2017-12-20
Table of Contents
For my mum who has spent so much of her life rescuing animals
‘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.
