The Ticket to Happiness. Faith Bleasdale

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bestseller and all of a sudden, he was being taken seriously both as a person and a writer. He’d dedicated his first book to the Singers and Meadowbrook.

      ‘I know,’ he’d said in response, ‘but I’m at the airport in New York and I couldn’t remember the time difference. Oh, and Happy New Year. I’m so sorry I missed the party, but having to promote my book here meant I really couldn’t get away.’

      Hector had spent Christmas in America because of an extensive book tour.

      ‘I know, you told us and it’s fine. We missed you but there’ll always be another party.’

      Pippa thought about how much everyone loved Hector, especially the gardening club ladies. She surprised herself by thinking that even she missed him.

      ‘Right, well, that’s why I’m calling. I’m getting on a flight in a minute and I’m on deadline, so I wondered if I could book into the hotel.’

      ‘Hector, you have a perfectly good flat in London and although of course we’d love to see you …’

      Pippa wasn’t sure if Hector was lonely. Now he had his success and was in demand, he seemed to want to be around them more than ever. Freddie said it was because he was in love with Pippa, but she brushed that off. He flirted with her terribly, but then he could flirt with a candlestick, he was that kind of guy. Lovely, fun, clever, not to mention gorgeous, but too young and too frivolous for Pippa. He was only twenty-nine and although he claimed his playboy days were behind him, she wasn’t convinced.

      ‘But you know I write best at Meadowbrook. I need to get my next book finished. There’s so much pressure on me, Pippa, and I was thinking three months would do it.’

      ‘You want to stay here for three months? You do know we’ve put our prices up?’ Pippa teased as Toby wriggled contently in her arms.

      When Hector stayed he’d had opening prices, plus a huge discount. Actually, they didn’t want to charge him at all, but he’d insisted. The thing was that the publicity that Hector brought the hotel had been amazing. Not least because of the groups of women booked in hoping to meet him. They should have been paying him, in fact.

      ‘Pip, I’m going to talk to Harriet about the rate, because she’ll charge me properly.’

      ‘You’re family and you can stay with us anytime, but I still don’t see why you’d want to be holed up here for three months.’

      ‘And you call yourself a businesswoman? What would Harriet say if I told her you were turning down paying customers?’

      ‘She’d kill me.’

      ‘I’ll call you when I’m in London to let you know when to expect me. Oh, bugger, last call for my flight.’ He hung up.

      ‘Hector’s coming, Toby. You’ll like him. He’s fun.’

      Hector hadn’t met Toby yet. He’d been so busy with his book tours that he hadn’t managed to come over since his birth. Pippa had to decide where he’d stay. Probably in one of the attic rooms; for some reason, Hector loved being at the top of the house. She had a few bookings coming up, but they had plenty of space for the quiet season. Meadowbrook only had ten bedrooms, all doubles, and she always knew who was staying. One magazine had said Meadowbrook was the very definition of a boutique hotel. And that was exactly their intention when they’d opened it. Pippa loved that it was small and it ensured they knew what their guests liked and didn’t like. They made sure they had food that suited their preferences. Catering to their individual needs, as a small, luxury hotel they were more than able to do so. It meant that guests felt they were having an experience suited to them, rather than just a generic five-star hotel stay.

      Pippa was actually pleased that Hector was coming. It would be nice to have him around. She grinned – Harriet would be really pleased. One three-month booking to take them through the slow season wouldn’t hurt at all, even if they did heavily discount. Although they weren’t empty, they weren’t full either for the next few months. They had some short mid-week corporate bookings coming up, a couple of groups embarking on Gus’s painting workshop and some more on Gwen’s baking course, which had proved so popular. And because of the baking show on TV – Hector had even taken part in the celebrity version of that – people clamoured. Baking was the new knitting, apparently. Pippa knew they might have some last-minute bookings, too, but she’d been prepared for it being quieter after Christmas, probably until Easter at least.

      Soon after the hotel opened, they realised that the Meadowbrook hotel kitchen wasn’t going to be able to accommodate the baking experiences that they were getting requests for. Especially as it was needed to cater for the guests at the same time. However, next to Freddie’s house, one of the barns they’d converted, was another barn that they’d been able to turn into a kitchen – a little like the actual Great British Bake Off layout; although not a tent, of course. There were a number of ovens and fridges, and Gwen ran her baking courses there. They were so well-known that she’d had to rope others in to help her now she was working less, or at least trying to. Hilary, John, the vicar’s wife, helped out regularly, as she was a keen baker, too.

      The good news was that the hotel wasn’t running at a huge loss. To Harriet’s dismay, it hadn’t made a profit yet, either, but then as Gemma pointed out, hotels never made money in the first year, which had almost satisfied her. The fact that the hotel was doing OK was enough. For now.

      Pippa sat at her desk in the office going through the bookings. Everyone had left, the housekeeping staff were turning the rooms around and Pippa was nursing her persistent hangover with a much-needed cup of tea while making notes to ensure that during the coming week she was on top of things.

      Growing up, with her three siblings and their father, not to mention Gwen and Connor, who were there most of the time, Meadowbrook had felt alive. But when one by one her siblings left – first to boarding school, then university, before going off to jobs in various places – it was just Pippa, the baby of the family, her father and Gwen. They’d filled the house with people: her father’s friends, the village community and Pippa’s school friends, who’d practically lived there when they were teenagers. When Pippa left Meadowbrook to marry Mark, she’d felt a stab of guilt – no, more than a stab of guilt – about leaving the house with just her father and Gwen. But she’d visited often and her dad never complained about being lonely. He kept busy and that was when he’d started the animal sanctuary.

      Pippa felt tears surface. She still missed him and she wished he was with them; although she felt his presence in the house every day and that was why she’d always take care of Meadowbrook. It was the one place she could feel her father and she never wanted to lose that feeling.

      Pippa wiped the tears off her face furiously as there was a knock on the office door. Gus appeared with a big smile. Mainly calm – apart from when it came to his teenage daughter – and level-headed, he was the most sensible of the siblings. He was also creative; although he’d been an insurance salesman before he managed to find his true passion: painting and gardening.

      ‘Why the tears, Pip?’ he asked, chewing his bottom lip anxiously.

      ‘I was thinking of Daddy. I’m not sure how I got there but with the party, it was emotional. You know, we’ve kept this place open for almost a year and it’s all going well, but I miss him. I wish I knew what he thought of it.’

      ‘I know.’ Gus came over to where Pippa was sat and bent down to hug her. ‘He’d be so proud of you, you know. All of us, but especially you.’

      ‘Thanks,

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