‘Is it done?’ Jo asked, not turning as Hattie approached.
‘Yes.’ It was all Hattie could say without her voice cracking.
Jo gave a solemn nod but said no more on it.
Hattie stood at her side and reached to scrub behind Blue’s ear. He barely reacted and it was obvious he wasn’t himself. They were silent while Hattie composed herself.
‘Will Blue be alright?’ she asked finally.
‘He’s lost without his mate,’ Jo said. She looked at Hattie now. ‘I don’t know. Donkeys get attached… they don’t do well when they’re separated. Might be as well to take Blue down and let him have a sniff at Norbert so he understands what’s happened.’
Hattie stared at her. ‘You mean, let him see Norbert… well… as he is now?’
‘I’ll see what Seth says,’ Jo replied quietly. ‘See whether he thinks it’s a good idea or not.’
Hattie looked back at Blue, silent and sad. It seemed a strange thing to do, but she was sure that Jo and Seth knew better than her. She just hoped Blue would be OK. Jo was putting a brave face on things, but Hattie knew that Norbert’s loss had been hard – to lose another donkey would be utterly devastating and Jo had already told her about how vulnerable a distressed donkey could be.
Jo went to talk to Seth the next morning. Hattie agreed to stay at the farm until she got back but decided she’d then go and visit her parents, whose support and counsel she desperately needed.
It might have been healthy and sensible for Hattie to talk to Seth at some point too. But as the days went by, she was unable to bring herself to contact him or mention it, and it seemed from his silence on the matter that neither could he. Not that she’d been given much of an opportunity to talk to him because Jo’s obsession with the donkeys had gone into overdrive since they’d lost Norbert. Determined that they weren’t going to lose another one, she monitored them more closely and rigorously than ever. When Hattie went to feed them Jo had to check every morsel before it hit the trough; when they came down at night, she looked each one carefully over, and she did the same in the mornings before they went up to the field. She rang Seth for advice almost every day about some imagined sign or symptom she thought she’d seen.
She’d finally got her way over the visitors too, and Hattie’s dreams of opening Sweet Briar up to the public had been shelved. Jo had decided that nobody could be trusted around her precious donkeys and there was no telling what danger random members of the public wandering across the farm might put them in. Hattie had begged for the donation page at least to stay live, though with little pay-off for anyone giving money, she expected the income from that to dry up soon enough anyway.
Blue suffered – as they’d expected without his best friend to keep him company – but he improved steadily as time went on. As for the others, they were as well as ever and probably the best cared for donkeys in Dorset. Hattie imagined there were millionaires with lower relative living standards.
The extra attention on the donkeys had provided Jo with even more of an excuse to ignore any other conversation with Hattie too. They worked more closely than they had ever done and yet, Hattie had never felt more distant from her. And at the end of the day when Hattie finally fell into bed, if Jo was still having her nightmares, Hattie was too exhausted to let them wake her.
It was Friday of the week after Norbert had been put to sleep. Jo had gone out but hadn’t told Hattie where, so Hattie had taken her lunchtime sandwiches out into the orchard where she could watch the hens cluck and fuss and wonder how much easier life might be if she were a chicken and the only thing she had to worry about was getting to the feed before everyone else did. Jo had plated up the leftovers of a beef joint the night before and Hattie was currently enjoying a slice on a hunk of home-baked bread along with a tub of salad. It was the most peaceful she’d felt all week and she was hopeful that the weeks to come would calm down a little so she could feel like this more often.
She’d called Owen briefly on the Sunday after they’d lost Norbert and told him all about it, and while he’d made sympathetic noises, Hattie could tell that he didn’t really understand why she was upset. He hadn’t used the phrase: It’s only a donkey, but Hattie could tell that it was running through his mind. She supposed that if you didn’t live with them and see them every day then perhaps it was hard to understand how close you became to them.
He’d told her that he still didn’t know when he’d next be free and that his editor had given him a stack of leads a mile high to follow up on, but as soon as he could see a free day in his schedule she’d be the first to know. Hattie couldn’t deny that it had left her feeling a little more than second best, and she wondered if this was the life anyone who chose a journalist had to endure. Long term, though she really liked Owen, she could see a day when never knowing when she might see him next would get a little wearing. It hadn’t helped that Seth was still on her mind too, and the guilt she’d felt as she talked to Owen made her squirm. In a way, she also had to admit that perhaps it was her own guilt that was making her judge him so harshly. If ever she needed to see him to remind herself that he was the one she wanted and that she shouldn’t be having the thoughts she was having about another man, it was now.
They hadn’t spoken since, though he had sent her a text every night to see how she was. Her answers were polite and not very meaningful, because how could she encapsulate all that she felt and all that she wanted to say in a text?
Hattie had phoned Melinda too, and although they hadn’t been able to meet up, Melinda had been her patient and supportive best. But Hattie, as much as she loved Melinda and trusted the advice that came from her friend’s heart, couldn’t even bring herself to tell her what had happened with Seth in the quadrangle that day. She didn’t know how she was supposed to talk to anyone about it, though she desperately wanted to.
She’d just finished her salad and set the tub to one side when she heard voices in the courtyard. Quickly gathering up the rest of her lunch, she headed out to see who it was.
Jo had returned, and she was cradling a polished wooden box. She was talking to Seth. Either they’d come to the farm together for some reason, or else Jo had arrived by coincidence at the same time as he had arrived. Hattie wondered if Jo had called him yet again about some fictional symptom in one of the donkeys, but this time the complaint must have had enough of a ring of truth to bring him out. If she had, she hadn’t told Hattie, but then, she rarely told her anything these days. Their relationship felt like a marriage that had broken down but the couple had been forced to continue sharing the house; only Hattie and Jo didn’t even have the wedding day to recall with fondness.
As Seth and Jo became aware of her presence they both turned to her.
‘Norbert,’ Jo said, nodding at the box. ‘I’ve brought him home.’
‘Oh,’ Hattie said, unable to think of any other response. Once again, the sight of Seth brought so many emotions, and the sight of Norbert’s remains a thousand others to confuse them even further.
‘Hi, Seth…’ Hattie said, feeling the need to somehow acknowledge him, although the sudden tension in the air was doing a very good job of that. Was he feeling as confused as she was? Did he long to reach out and touch her as she did him? Had he even thought of her at all after their kiss? Jo looked from one to the other, suddenly astute. Had she guessed, or was that in Hattie’s imagination? If she had, what must she think of Hattie when she’d watched Owen come and go?
‘Tea?’ Jo said, looking at Seth.
‘That would be wonderful,’ Seth said.
Jo glanced at Hattie. ‘There’ll be plenty in the pot for you too if you’ve got nothing better to do.’
Hattie followed them both into the kitchen, warm sunlight swapped for cool shade. While Jo busied herself making the tea, Hattie sat across the table from Seth and reflected on how hard it was to see him sitting there and to know that she mustn’t even breathe a word of what she really wanted to do. It wasn’t fair, and she ha
d to put it out of her mind – it wasn’t fair to Seth, it wasn’t fair to Owen and it wasn’t fair to Hattie herself. She liked Owen and he liked her, and he’d got there first and that was that.
‘Want me to do anything?’ Hattie asked.
‘Not especially,’ Jo replied as she poured hot water into the teapot. ‘Unless you want to get some fruit cake out of the pantry.’ She turned to look at Seth. ‘You’ll eat some fruit cake, won’t you?’
Seth seemed to jump at her voice, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, and as he replied that, yes, he’d love some cake, Hattie could have sworn she saw him look her way with guilt in his expression. Puzzled, unreasonably hopeful for things that couldn’t and perhaps shouldn’t be, she went to the pantry to find the tin full of homemade cake.
When she came back, Jo was already at the table talking to Seth with the teapot surreally sitting next to Norbert in front of them.
‘Cake,’ Hattie said, hovering with the tin and not quite sure where to put it down. Somehow, the idea of placing fruit cake next to Norbert on the table didn’t seem right. But Jo took it from her and prised it unceremoniously open before dropping it down in front of Seth.
‘Thank you,’ Seth said, peering into the tin. ‘This looks good.’
Hattie got the impression that he couldn’t have cared less about the cake. She couldn’t say why, but it just felt as if he was going through the motions when it came to the pleasantries.
‘It is,’ Jo said, and in any other situation Hattie would have laughed at her reply. ‘So, what can we do for you, Seth?’ she continued. ‘Is it about the bill because Hattie’s got that in hand…’ Jo glanced at her. ‘At least she’s told me she has.’
‘I have,’ Hattie said. ‘The money’s being processed and it will be in our bank account in a few days.’
‘As soon as it clears I’ll send you a cheque, Seth,’ Jo said.
‘Although,’ Hattie added, ‘it won’t be enough to pay everything we owe, as you know. It’ll only clear the balance we had before Norbert…’
Hattie stopped as she saw Jo stare at her. What had she…?
Shit! She’d given away that she’d known how much Seth’s debt was. Would Jo put two and two together? Was that why her features were even darker than usual?
‘Oh, I’m quite sure it will clear the bill,’ Seth said, helping himself to tea from the pot. ‘And if it doesn’t, as I’ve always said, I can wait.’
Hattie stared at him. Why would he have said that? Surely there would be more to pay now that they had Norbert’s extra treatment to add on. ‘Hopefully more donations will come in over time and we’ll be able to pay whatever we owe whenever we owe it,’ she said, trying to collect herself.
‘Bearing in mind that we’re always going to need veterinary care, we’re never going to be clear,’ Jo reminded her.
‘But if we continue to get steady donations…’ Hattie insisted.
Jo pursed her lips, her gaze going to Norbert’s box.
‘Would you like me to put that somewhere safe?’ Hattie asked.
‘I’ll do it later,’ Jo said. She turned back to Seth. ‘So if it’s not about the bill, what is it?’
‘I was passing. I thought I’d look in and see how Blue’s bearing up.’
Jo gave him as close to a smile as Hattie had ever seen. ‘That’s good of you,’ she said. ‘I could take you up there after we’ve had our tea.’
‘Or I could do it,’ Hattie put in, but then blushed uncontrollably as Jo gave her another flinty stare worthy of her surname. ‘I mean,’ she added, ‘if you were busy, because I know you have a lot to do.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Seth said to Hattie.
‘I could even take you right now,’ she added.
Jo dragged a spare mug across the table and filled it up from the pot. ‘Let him drink his tea and then I’ll take him.’
Hattie fell silent. She looked at the cake tin on the table and wished she could ram it onto Jo’s stupid miserable head. This was the first real opportunity she’d had to talk to Seth and Jo was taking that away. They might not even discuss what happened between them – maybe Seth wouldn’t want to – but they certainly would never discuss it left in Jo’s hands. It might have been an arrogant thought, but Hattie half wondered whether Seth’s ‘just passing’ visit might not have been an excuse to come and talk to her about it. Perhaps he felt the need to clear the air as much as she did. She could only hope that it mattered that much to him.
Later, just after Seth had drained his cup and proclaimed himself full of cake, Jo led him outside. Hattie wasn’t going to be beaten, though. If they were going up to the top field, then she was going with them. She wasn’t sure how it was going to help her cause, but sitting in the kitchen waiting for them to come back was even more useless. Jo marched off, not waiting to see who was keeping up with her, as was her way, so she didn’t even notice Hattie following behind. In a second Hattie had caught up with Seth and they walked together in Jo’s wake. He didn’t waste any time taking advantage of the situation, and Hattie’s suspicions were confirmed.
‘I wanted to talk to you about…’ His voice was almost a whisper.
‘What happened?’ Hattie whispered back.
‘It was very unprofessional of me—’
‘God, it was completely my fault – you did nothing wrong.’
‘Well, I’m glad to hear that you think so, but I’m afraid I did. The thing is… I can’t stop thinking about it, and as you sort of began proceedings I thought… maybe you might feel the same way…’
Hattie’s heart began to race.
‘I’ve been thinking about it too,’ she said. ‘I just feel so bad for what I did.’
‘You feel bad?’
‘I shouldn’t have done it.’
‘But…’
‘And your girlfriend?’ Hattie asked.
‘Eugenie? You know about her?’
‘Seth, we live in Gillypuddle. Everyone knows about her.’
‘Oh,’ Seth said, looking deflated. If he’d been clinging to any hope that he might have some semblance of a private life now that he lived in Dorset’s nosiest village, it looked as if it had just been well and truly prised from his grasp. ‘That’s over now.’
‘It’s just… I heard… So it’s over?’
‘Have people been gossiping about me?’ he asked incredulously.
‘Like I said, this is Gillypuddle…’
‘Right. It doesn’t matter. Eugenie and I are definitely over and she’s gone to Washington. There are no hard feelings and I don’t still love her if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘That’s good,’ Hattie replied, uncertain what else she was expected to say.
‘So what do you think?’ he asked. ‘About us? I know I’m a little older than you, but that doesn’t mean anything, right? At least, it doesn’t to me if it doesn’t to you.’
Hattie shook her head. ‘We shouldn’t have done it. I mean, I shouldn’t have done it. I don’t know why I did but it was wrong.’
‘So… what did it mean for you, then?’ Seth asked. ‘Why did you do it?’
‘It was just… like I said at the time…’ she said miserably, realising now that she couldn’t take this any further without being completely honest about Owen, and not even knowing how she felt about Owen or Seth. Who did she want? Was this worth jeopardising what she might have with Owen one day? If Owen could see her here now, how would that make him feel? It wasn’t fair and he didn’t deserve it. ‘It was the moment. I needed something and you…’
She looked away. His step quickened and he no longer seemed as if he wanted to walk with her.
‘I’m seeing someone,’ she blurted out. ‘I’m not proud of it and you must think I have no morals whatsoever, but when it comes to it, no matter how I feel about you, that’s the facts about it.’
‘Well,’ he said coldly. ‘Thank you for putting me straight.’
Jo turned to look and for
the first time noticed Hattie.
‘It doesn’t need all three of us,’ she called, and Hattie knew exactly which of the three was the expendable one. She turned around and walked back the way she’d come. She’d waited almost a week to talk to Seth and, in the end, he’d reached out, and this, apparently, was the best she could do once the opportunity had come. Must try harder, Hattie, she thought, and gave herself a D minus.
Hattie watched Seth’s car pull away from the farm. He hadn’t sought her out to say goodbye, but she supposed she couldn’t expect him to. She’d led him on – at least that was how it must have looked – and though she could never have foreseen these consequences, she could imagine why he might be angry and hurt. Truly, though, even as she’d kissed him and afterwards longed for him, she’d never imagined that he might feel the same even if she’d wished it. She had to let it go now, though, and she had to remember that Owen was the one she wanted and needed. Owen was closer to her age, they had great chemistry, and, most importantly, had been there first. Maybe if she could talk to him it would remind her of why she’d made that choice, why that choice was the right and proper one, and she’d feel better about it all.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Jo’s voice behind her.
‘Who told you about my account with the vet?’
Hattie spun to face her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Has he been discussing it with you?’
‘Of course not!’
‘Then how do you know so much?’
‘I don’t!’
‘It didn’t sound that way in the kitchen.’
Hattie hesitated. ‘I suppose you must have told me at some point. I don’t remember now.’
‘I’d know if I’d done that and I haven’t. You’ve been snooping around.’
‘Of course I haven’t—’
‘Don’t lie to me! I don’t know who’s told you but keep your nose out of my affairs!’
‘But they’re our affairs; that’s the thing. I live here too!’
‘As a guest at my pleasure.’
Hattie's Home for Broken Hearts: A heartwarming laugh out loud romantic comedy Page 22