and jumped up at Pippa, knocking her mug of coffee all over her and getting muddy paw prints on her jumper. What on earth had possessed her to wear cream?
‘Thanks, Hilda.’ Pippa rolled her eyes but petted the big Old English sheepdog, who was boisterous but adorable. Harriet and her partner, Connor, a vet, had adopted her from the animal sanctuary a couple of years back and she was part of the family.
‘Sorry, Pip. I tried to contain her but you know what she’s like,’ Harriet sighed as she walked in behind Hilda with her new baby, Toby, strapped to her chest.
They were in the Meadowbrook kitchen, the hub of the house. It had been the scene of many a family meal growing up when they’d shunned the formal dining room for the warmth of the kitchen, with its Aga and Gwen, their housekeeper, baking, which kept the kitchen smelling inviting. Now, it was more of a commercial kitchen, but they managed to retain some of its history, not least with the huge, old kitchen table that sat in the room, etched with their childhoods on it.
‘Can I have my nephew?’ Pippa asked, itching to get her hands on four-month-old Toby.
‘If you can figure out how to get into this bloody thing. It almost needed an engineering degree to get it on; you should have heard my language. If Toby’s first words are all swearwords then you’ll know why.’
Harriet, the oldest at forty, sounded harassed, which was unlike the normally cool-headed woman, but then Pippa guessed being a new mother could do that to you. Harriet was taller than Pippa, with dark hair cut into an efficient bob, and she looked a little like their father, whereas Pippa took after their mother. Harriet was attractive and slim, with translucent skin and brown eyes, while Pippa was more delicate with her blonde hair, pale skin and bright blue eyes. They did share some similar traits, but initially to look at them you wouldn’t guess they were sisters.
Pippa managed to unhook Toby and engulfed him in her arms, where he wriggled before nuzzling into her. She sniffed his head, something she couldn’t resist doing. He looked like Harry, she thought, but his eyes were similar to his father, Connor. He was the most beautiful baby she’d ever seen. Although she was, of course, biased.
‘Right, I need coffee, and loads of it,’ Harriet announced as she left Pippa cooing and moved to the coffee machine, Hilda wagging her tail at her heels.
Pippa opened her mouth and then promptly closed it. Harriet appeared to have her jumper on inside out but Pippa wasn’t sure she dared point it out.
‘Are you all right?’ Pippa asked instead.
Harriet was so strong she rarely showed weakness, or rather vulnerability; she didn’t believe in it. As sisters, Pippa and Harriet were polar opposites. Harriet took being the oldest seriously and Pippa did the same with being the youngest, even milking it, some might say. They bickered, all four of them did, but they were closer than they ever had been – closer than their father even imagined they’d be, Pippa often thought.
‘Yes, I’m absolutely great,’ Harriet said, taking a large gulp of coffee. ‘Even better now.’
‘Good.’ Pippa frowned. She knew she worried about her siblings, but Harriet wasn’t someone who took kindly to being worried about.
‘Anyway, what needs doing for this party?’ Harriet asked.
‘I think it’s all under control. But you’re all staying here, aren’t you?’
‘Yup. I’ve got a baby monitor for Toby, so I can put him to sleep and enjoy the party,’ Harriet grinned.
‘You’re going to drink actual alcohol?’ Pippa asked.
Harriet had barely taken a sip of wine since Toby’s birth. Personally, Pippa thought maybe it would do her good.
‘Yes, I’ve pumped milk for his feeds for tomorrow, and then I can pump and dump in the morning,’ Harriet explained.
‘What?’ Pippa grimaced.
‘There might be alcohol in the breast milk if I drink, so I have to pump it out and get rid. It’s called pump and dump according to the baby book.’
‘Yuk. Anyway, can we stop talking about your breasts?’
Just then, Toby gave out a wail.
‘Well we can, but I’m going to have to whip them out now as my baby’s hungry.’
Harriet reached out and took her son, settling herself down at the kitchen table to feed him.
‘Why is my timing so bad?’ Freddie said as he walked into the kitchen with a grimace on his face.
‘For God’s sake, Fred, you can’t even see anything,’ Harriet snapped.
She had a muslin cloth covering both her and most of Toby. Freddie was the youngest of the male siblings. Only two years older than Pippa, they looked the most alike. Freddie was tall and slim, with the same colouring as Pippa. His messy blond hair crowned his head, but he had the same strong nose as their father and their other brother, Gus.
‘You know what he’s like. Hello, guys,’ Gemma said, appearing from behind him.
Gemma was originally Meadowbrook’s hotel consultant and although there was a huge amount of drama before they opened the hotel, she’d done an amazing job. Gemma was thirty and she was shorter than Pippa, with dark blonde, highlighted hair, but was far prettier than she ever thought she was. When she’d worked for the hotel, Gemma and Pippa had become firm friends. But then just as the hotel opened, she and Freddie fell in love – a case of opposites attract, obviously. Freddie was her loud, party-loving brother and Gemma was shy, quiet, anxious and, especially when she first arrived at Meadowbrook, a bundle of nerves. But she was also bright, sensible and with a fun side, and Freddie seemed to have unearthed those qualities in her. In fact, they brought out the best in each other. When the hotel opened, Gemma had resigned. She wanted to do something outside the family now she was dating Freddie. But Meadowbrook Hotel still felt as if it were a part of Gemma; it was important to all of them and of course Gemma was roped in to help when they needed her. She’d gone to college to study business as a mature student, which she loved.
‘Right, well, back to this party. What do you need us to do?’ Gemma asked.
‘I need you guys to stay here and help set up, if that’s OK?’
‘Sure, but I need to go and get my cocktail bar ready,’ Freddie said.
The bar was his domain, which given his predilection for alcohol could have been a bad thing, but Freddie took the bar seriously and hadn’t – yet – drunk it dry. He was becoming known for mixing fantastic cocktails and actually, having the responsibility had done him good. That and Gemma, of course.
‘Can’t wait to try them; although seeing’s as I’ve hardly touched a drink for the best part of a year, you need to go easy on me,’ Harriet grinned, the old spark seemingly back in her eyes.
‘Harry, have you got your jumper on inside out?’ Freddie asked.
Pippa carried two mugs of steaming coffee out through the back door of the kitchen and into the garden. She wasn’t surprised to have seen Gus pottering out there earlier. Gus, her eldest brother, loved the gardens and he could often be found out there when he wasn’t painting or with his family.
‘Hey,’ she called, waving at him as he was trimming one of the garden’s many bushes.
He stopped, squinted and then beamed.
‘Pippa, just what I need,’ he said as he bounded over to her.
Gus was thirty-nine and looked like a male version of Harriet, apart from his nose. He was tall, with thinning dark hair and a stocky build. Despite his looks, he was sensitive, quiet and creative. Definitely the most creative of the Singers.
She handed him the mug and they stood side by side in silence, looking at the winter sun glinting in the greenery.
‘It looks beautiful,’ she said, which was true.