The Ticket to Happiness

  THE TICKET TO HAPPINESS

  FAITH BLEASDALE

  Published by AVON

  A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

  Copyright © Faith Bleasdale 2019

  Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

  Cover illustrations © 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 © March 2019; ISBN: 9780008306977

  Version: 2019-03-22

  To Sally, wishing you love and happiness in your new adventure!

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  The Singer Family Tree

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Keep Reading …

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  Prologue

  The Californian sun streamed through the window, highlighting the house she was looking at on the computer screen. Meadowbrook Manor, a boutique hotel in Somerset, the UK. The house drew her in as she peered at the big windows, the impressive front door, the inviting interior as shown in the photos that had been taken of the inside. She could almost see, almost feel herself there.

  She noticed a tear sliding down her cheek, which surprised her, as she hadn’t realised she’d been crying. She angrily brushed it away. There had been so much, too much that had brought her to this point, and as she stared at the hotel she begged it to give her the answer she needed. Although it felt hopeless, she was desperate to understand. After a while, she felt her heart start to warm. She knew it was crazy, but it really felt as if Meadowbrook was talking to her, calling her.

  Before she had time to change her mind she pulled up another website, this time for flights, and with a few clicks she’d booked herself a ticket. She hoped, no she knew, in her heart that it was the right thing to do. That ticket was going to take her to just where she needed to be.

  Chapter One

  Pippa could feel a smile inching its way across her face before she opened her eyes. Today was going to be a good day. She sprang out of bed with childlike enthusiasm, opening the curtains in her small bedroom that overlooked Meadowbrook’s magnificent gardens. Meadowbrook Manor, a grand Georgian house, had been home to her and her three siblings for their entire childhood. They’d lived with just their father, Andrew Singer, throughout most of this time, as their mother had passed away when Pippa was only four years old.

  And since Andrew’s death, Meadowbrook had become much more than just a family home to the Singer siblings. They’d turned it into a boutique five-star hotel.

  Pippa looked out at the sweeping gardens. Even in winter, they were perfectly maintained and deserving of the reputation that made them an attraction. They had been her father’s pride and joy, so they remained important to Pippa and her three siblings, as did the animal sanctuary that lay just beyond – another great love of their father’s before he passed away.

  She took a moment to enjoy the view that stretched out over the Mendip countryside. It was a rare interlude, as Pippa was now busier than ever. Opening and running the hotel was pretty much the only job she’d ever had, but she was lucky that she loved doing it. She was a people person, so managing a hotel, charming the guests, making sure their every whim was catered for, played to her strengths. Although her sister and two brothers were involved in the hotel in their own way, it was still largely her baby. The only baby she had.

  She brushed this negative thought away. She often thought about how just a few short years ago she’d been married to Mark, a controlling man who’d turned out to be ruthless and uncaring. But she didn’t see it until it was almost too late, as one often did in such relationships, and since then she’d been largely single.

  Before her divorce, Pippa had always thought she’d have children and become a mum, rather than run a hotel, but she had learnt the hard way that life didn’t always work out the way you thought it would. And she was better off now. Surrounded by her siblings and their partners, she did sometimes feel a little sad about being single, but she was only thirty-two, after all – it wasn’t as if she was an old maid just yet … although she felt like it at times. Pippa once again pushed those negative thoughts away. Lately, she’d been letting negativity creep into her head, but not today.

  She hopped around the room with an energy that seemed on endless supply since the hotel opened. Though the first few months had been anxious ones, Pippa had barely come up for air, but now the hotel had found its rhythm. In fact, Pippa was preparing a party to celebrate its one-year anniversary.

  Like with many things at Meadowbrook, the anniversary was slightly unconventional in that they were celebrating over a month early. The official opening of the hotel had been held on Valentine’s Day last year, and her brother Gus’s wedding to Meadowbrook garden designer, Amanda, had marked that occasion. But as they had bookings this year for those in search of romance, they were holding the party early during the first week of January. Not only was it quiet, but everyone involved with Meadowbrook would also welcome a party to fend off the post-Christmas and New Year blues. No one she knew did dry January, after all. Her brother Freddie said if you were going to pick a month to give up drinking, why pick the coldest, longest and most depressing? She had to admit he had a point.

  Although they all had different strengths and often bickered, the Singer siblings all agreed that Pippa should take the lead on the hotel as manager and they supported her in different ways. She often wondered what her father would think of her now. Andrew Singer was driven, complicated, successful
and loving, and she missed him every single day.

  Harriet Singer was the business brain behind Meadowbrook, the hotel and the animal sanctuary, as well as their father’s various investments and complicated estate. Gus, the second oldest, took care of the gardens; Amanda and he ran a gardening company that was hugely in demand. He also painted and ran increasingly popular painting workshops at the hotel. Freddie, her third sibling, was sort of her co-manager but he ran the bar, his particular area of interest, and took care of all the marketing and social media. Somehow, they’d figured out how to do this together, without too much fighting. They’d almost made it to a year with no casualties at the very least, and Meadowbrook was open for business.

  After showering, Pippa dried herself and pulled on a pair of jeans and a new cream jumper. Having kept this weekend free of guests for the anniversary party, the hotel felt eerily quiet, and Pippa wasn’t used to being here on her own. But this morning, for a little while at least, it was just her. She smiled as she made her way to the kitchen and poured a large mug of coffee. She leant against the counter, thankful for a moment’s peace and quiet. Yes, today was going to be a good day …

  Chapter Two

  Hilda, Harriet’s dog, bounded through the door 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.

  ‘All the hard work’s definitely paid off. Amanda’s flat out today, but she’s going to finish early so she can come up to the house. I know you probably need me to help with the party, but I just fancied being out here alone for a bit.’

  ‘I understand, Gus.’ Pippa gave his arm a squeeze. ‘But, yes, when you’re ready, it’s all hands on deck. Where’s Fleur, by the way?’

  Amanda, who was in charge of the Meadowbrook gardens and had worked for their father, was Gus’s second wife. Fleur, her niece, was his sixteen-year-old daughter from his first marriage.

  ‘She’ll be up later with the rest of the family; although I’m sure she’ll be wearing something inappropriate and trying to sneak alcohol,’ he complained.