He looked at Jo, his expression somewhere between expectation and sympathy. For the first time, Hattie thought she saw worry in Jo’s own. And then it came to her – Jo couldn’t afford expensive treatment for Speedy. But she nodded anyway.
‘Do what you need to. If Speedy needs treatment then he’ll have to have it. I’ll work something out.’
‘I’m sure I could work something out too,’ Seth said in a tone full of meaning. Hattie was lost as to what that meaning was but Jo seemed to understand.
‘Thank you,’ she said, and her tone was about as humble as Hattie had ever heard it. It wasn’t that Jo was arrogant; she just didn’t do please and thank you in the same way most people did. She seemed to view them as if they were a precious commodity not to be wasted on frivolous platitudes. When Jo said thank you, she really meant it.
Seth smiled and turned his attention back to the patient. Hattie watched as he began a gentle but more thorough examination. She wondered if love at first sight was a thing after all, because if it wasn’t, she didn’t know what was making her feel so giddy.
Speedy behaved himself, though it was obvious now that Hattie looked that when Seth handled a particular spot on his leg it caused some discomfort, which Speedy would show by trying to get out of his reach. When he did this, Jo settled him and held him steady. Seth was so gentle, his voice as he talked to the donkey so soft and full of concern, that Hattie thought his bedside manner was better than that of many doctors she’d seen treating humans.
After a few minutes, he stood back and scratched his head.
‘What do you think?’ Jo asked.
‘I don’t think it’s anything serious,’ he said, looking at Speedy. ‘I can’t feel anything too worrying anyway, though he’s clearly bothered by something.’ He turned to face Jo. ‘What do you want me to do? We can watch and wait – see how he gets on.’
‘It might get worse.’
Seth nodded slowly. ‘It might. But I’d bet against that.’
Jo looked at Speedy, and then back at Seth. ‘Check him thoroughly,’ she said. ‘Whatever you need to do I’ll pay for it.’
Seth looked as though there was something he wanted to say and Hattie waited for a moment, sure that it was going to be something significant. But then he simply nodded. ‘If that’s what you want.’
‘It is,’ Jo said firmly. ‘Donkeys have to come first.’
Chapter Twelve
Melinda had left her youngest in the care of Stu’s mum. Getting a buggy up to the top field at Sweet Briar would be a nightmare and carrying Daffodil – small as she was – would be just as awkward and exhausting. Sunshine and Ocean were excited, chatting non-stop on the way up, running ahead, skulking back when Melinda shouted a warning, only to forget and run ahead again a few minutes later. Rain, who was a little more apprehensive, kept hold of Melinda’s hand.
‘Where’s Medusa now?’ Melinda asked. ‘I thought she might be coming up with us to keep an eye on things.’
‘So did I,’ Hattie said. ‘I think she must have bigger fish to fry, though.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like money.’
‘Like not enough money?’
‘I don’t know. I left her going through a ledger or something. At least, I think it was a ledger; it was basically an old exercise book with numbers written in.’
‘Is that why she pays you peanuts?’
‘Well, it’s not all that bad. When you factor in all the food and a roof over my head, it’s as good as I’d get anywhere else. Maybe better.’
‘Better than Alphonse?’
‘Well, no. But living in Paris was expensive. I think it’s a decent deal.’
‘I don’t call having to live in that scruffy house with Misery herself a decent deal.’
‘It’s really not that bad when you get used to it. I’ve got a few bits and pieces in my room from my mum and dad’s house. There’s running water, heating and electricity. That’s all anyone needs, isn’t it? And I’m not in the house much anyway.’
Melinda threw her a sideways look. ‘You really do like it up here, don’t you?’
‘Are you shocked?’
‘I wouldn’t be the only one.’
‘Shocked because it’s me? I’m not that high maintenance.’
‘Shocked that anyone would be happy living in that place with her.’
‘She’s really not as bad as everyone thinks. She doesn’t like to talk much but I suppose some people are just like that, aren’t they? Doesn’t make them bad. She was weirdly more chatty when Seth was here, but I suppose that’s because she had to tell him about any concerns she had with the donkeys.’
‘You mean she spoke more than single-word sentences?’
‘Yes,’ Hattie laughed. ‘In some of them I counted three.’
‘Wow, he must bring out the chatterbox in people.’
‘He brought it out in me,’ Hattie said with a smile.
‘Ah…’ Melinda’s smile was rather more sheepish. ‘I’m afraid I owe you an apology.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I was trying to persuade you to flirt with him, but it’s recently come to my attention that he’s not available after all.’
‘He’s not?’ Hattie couldn’t deny the sudden swooping disappointment. She had been very obviously flirting with him – what must he have thought of her?
‘Well, in my defence, I hadn’t heard anything about this Eugenie woman.’
‘He’s married?’
‘Long-term girlfriend, I think. Living in Oxford, though, apparently, where she’s completing some postgraduate studies. She’s supposed to be coming to join him when she’s done.’
‘So she’s ridiculously clever and accomplished?’
‘Sounds like it. Posh too with a name like Eugenie.’
‘I bet my dad would love her,’ Hattie muttered.
‘Oh, Hattie…’ Melinda laid a gentle hand on her arm. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s OK. So, who told you this?’
‘Lance – who else?’
‘Figures. He ought to be recruited by MI5 – he’d be brilliant at getting information on people.’
‘Who says he hasn’t been already?’ Melinda laughed. ‘The Willow Tree could be one hell of a cover – nobody would suspect a microscopic place like Gillypuddle of harbouring an international man of mystery.’
‘Nobody would expect Gillypuddle to harbour any sort of mystery,’ Hattie said. ‘Lance sees to that. Even our deepest, darkest thoughts are no secret when he’s around.’
‘You can say that again. Somehow he knew I was pregnant with Daffy before I did!’ Melinda laughed.
‘I can’t deny it’s a shame, though.’
‘What is?’
‘Seth. You were right – he’s yummy. Very yummy.’
‘Oh dear. I should have kept my big mouth shut.’
‘It’s OK. I suppose it will have to be a case of look and don’t touch.’
‘At least the looking is enjoyable. I’ve been making the most of that particular pastime since he arrived in the village.’
‘You’re terrible! Does Stu know about this dark side you have?’
‘Of course he does! I’ve got to keep him on his toes, haven’t I? I can’t have him getting complacent.’
‘I should imagine, living with you, that complacent is one thing he’s not. Here we are…’
Hattie had no need to announce that they’d arrived at the field because the squeals of delight from Sunshine and Ocean did that for her.
‘They’re so cute!’ Sunshine squeaked.
‘They’re lovely!’ Ocean agreed.
‘Come on…’ Hattie opened the gate to let everyone in. ‘Don’t run,’ she warned. ‘Approach them slowly and let them get used to you – they’ve never met you before and if you go tearing up you’re going to make them nervous. We don’t want nervous donkeys…’
Melinda gave her a sideways look. ‘Careful – you’re starting to sound like you
know what you’re doing.’
Hattie laughed. ‘God, I wouldn’t want that.’
Sunshine and Ocean gave solemn nods, but their eyes were desperate with excitement. Only Rain, still clinging to Melinda’s hand, looked apprehensive.
‘I don’t want to go,’ she said, shaking her little head.
‘They’re not going to hurt you.’ Hattie held out her own hand for Rain to take. ‘Come with me – I’ll introduce you. You’ll be quite safe.’
Rain backed away, holding Melinda tighter and looking more uncertain than ever.
‘OK,’ Hattie said. ‘Why don’t you just stay with your mummy and watch for a while. If you feel like coming to say hello later then I’ll come to get you.’
Rain gave a small nod and Hattie took Sunshine and Ocean to meet Jo’s gang. For the next half hour childish hands reached tentatively to pat docile noses. Each time the children would get a little braver, stroking a neck or flank, but this would be quickly followed by giggling and nervous pulling away. Hattie couldn’t have asked for better, more patient behaviour from the donkeys. Norbert was her main man, of course, and Minty was brilliant too because she’d been used to working with children on the beaches of Yarmouth. Pedro kept getting bored and wandering off while Loki and Lola were only interested if they noticed sugar-beet lumps – their favourite treats – coming out of Hattie’s pockets.
After a while, Rain decided that there was too much fun to be had to be left out and then all three children were happy to rub each donkey’s coat. Hattie produced a brush she’d brought up and showed them how to groom Norbert, who stood patiently, ears flicking from time to time as he gazed out at the ribbon of sea that lay beyond the cliff tops. Each child had a go but they were so gentle that he probably barely noticed it, and, certainly, he didn’t complain.
‘Is he your favourite?’ Sunshine asked as she stroked the brush down Norbert’s flank.
‘I don’t have favourites,’ Hattie said loudly. But then she leaned in and whispered: ‘Yes he is – just don’t tell the others.’
Sunshine giggled and Hattie straightened up to see Melinda smiling with evident pride.
‘These donkeys are like your kids.’
Hattie laughed. ‘Yeah, I don’t need any actual kids now. I’ll leave it to you and Stu to top up the human population.’
Melinda grinned but then Hattie saw her attention wander to a spot beyond her. She turned to see Jo striding up towards the field. Hattie was about to call to her to ask if anything was wrong when she stopped. Jo was wearing a peculiar look and, if Hattie hadn’t known her better, she could have sworn it was almost a smile. Jo halted at the gate to undo it, but then paused and watched as Melinda’s kids fussed over her donkeys. She’d been reluctant to let this happen and Hattie had been forced to give every reassurance she could think of, but now she looked… well, she looked happy. But then her eye caught Hattie’s and immediately she closed down again, her expression returning to the stone of its usual state.
‘Delivery!’ she shouted. ‘Could do with a hand when you’ve finished playing around. This lot will have to come back when it’s more convenient.’
‘Delivery?’ Hattie repeated, ignoring the dig. ‘I didn’t know we were expecting a delivery. Of what?’
‘Chickens,’ Jo said before turning on her heel and walking back the way she’d come.
‘Chickens!’ Ocean gasped, apparently having been distracted enough by Jo’s arrival to abandon his rapturous donkey fussing for long enough to hear the conversation. ‘Can we see them?’
‘You’ve seen plenty of chickens,’ Melinda said. ‘The school has some.’
‘But I like chickens,’ Ocean replied.
Melinda looked uncertainly at Hattie. It hadn’t sounded as if they’d be very welcome judging by Jo’s tone. Then again, Jo hadn’t explicitly said that they couldn’t at least see the chickens. Maybe she wouldn’t mind them staying for five minutes longer so they could have a look. Hattie had to admit she was curious too. Jo hadn’t mentioned getting chickens to her. How many were they expecting? Where had they come from? What was Jo planning to do with them? She really hoped the last question wasn’t anything to do with her organic dinners, because it was one thing watching Jo grind her own beef mince but quite another to watch her pluck a chicken they’d seen scratching around the courtyard the day before.
‘I’ll take you down to the yard,’ she said. ‘There’s a tap to wash your hands – you must always wash your hands after you’ve handled the animals, you know. I expect you’ll get to see the chickens then.’
Then Hattie showed them how to make sure the gate to the field was properly shut and she explained how important it was to check that it was always secure, and then they all trooped back down the path to the farmhouse. The kids were bubbling with excitement, swapping stories amongst themselves about what they’d seen each donkey do, which was their favourite, which ones made them laugh, which ones went off to lick at a salt block in the corner of the field, which ones pulled at the grass and which ones came back from the feeder with hay sticking out of their mouths. Hattie couldn’t stop thinking about Jo’s face as she’d watched them. On reflection, she ought to have been more surprised that Jo had let them on the field at all, but now that she thought about it, maybe Jo wasn’t as distrustful of little people as she was the bigger ones they’d grow to be.
Spots of rain were darkening the stones of the courtyard as they arrived back.
‘It’s probably a good thing we came back down when we did,’ Hattie said. ‘Looks like the heavens might open at any time.’
‘Will the donkeys get wet?’ Sunshine asked, looking worried.
‘They’ve got a shelter up there for the odd shower,’ Hattie told her. ‘They’ll be fine.’
‘I don’t think a bit of rain would have bothered my lot,’ Melinda said. ‘They’d have been happy to huddle in the shelter with the donkeys.’
A van was parked up and a man Hattie had never seen before was talking to Jo. The back doors were open to reveal crates of hens – perhaps a dozen of them – all clucking and scratching and looking very annoyed at the humiliation of having to sit in cages. Jo glanced across and waved an impatient hand at Hattie.
‘Come and help.’ She didn’t comment on the fact that Melinda was still there with her kids.
‘What needs doing?’ Hattie asked.
‘They can’t sit on the van all day.’
‘Where are we taking them?’ Hattie asked, making her way over.
‘I’ve set up a coop in the orchard.’
‘When did you do that?’ Hattie asked incredulously.
‘Before you got up.’
‘Where are they from?’ Hattie went to pull a crate from the van.
‘We’ll have to take them one by one,’ Jo said. ‘The crates are too heavy. Like this…’ She reached for a bird and ignored its indignant flapping as she tucked it firmly under an arm.
‘So they’re ours?’ Hattie asked, eyeing them with a little apprehension. Jo made taking one out of the crate look easy, but she suspected it wouldn’t be when she herself tried.
‘Yes.’
‘Where did they come from? Did you buy them?’
‘Rescued,’ Jo said shortly and that was all the information she volunteered before striding off with her hen.
Rescued. Of course they were. This was Jo Flint they were talking about, and Jo wouldn’t have stood idly by if she’d heard that a bunch of chickens needed rescuing. She probably hadn’t even stopped to think about the practicalities of keeping them.
Hattie looked at the van driver, expecting him to come and grab a bird too, but he simply got back into the front seat of his van and opened out a newspaper. Apparently, his obligations had ended with their delivery. Hattie wondered if he was the previous owner of the chickens or had just been hired to bring them. Either way, she thought he was ignorant, but there was too much to do to worry about it now.
‘Can we help?’ Sunshine asked.
‘Maybe it’s best if Hattie and Jo handle it,’ Melinda said. ‘We should probably go and leave them to it.’
There was a chorus of dissent, but Melinda shushed them.
‘I expect you’ll be able to come again another day,’ Hattie said, not entirely sure if that was a promise she’d be able to keep.
‘You can feed them once they’re in.’ Jo was standing at the van again. She must have run with the first hen and now she was back for another one while Hattie hadn’t even got to grips with her first yet. But Jo couldn’t have been too annoyed by this if she was still being civil to Melinda and her children. She grabbed another chicken and continued on her way back to the orchard.
Hattie stared after her for a second, and then looked at Melinda, who seemed as surprised as she was. Could it be that Melinda’s kids were the key to cracking open the stone heart of Jo Flint? And if so, what might they find inside?
Chapter Thirteen
‘It’s lucky that Speedy’s leg isn’t anything serious after all, isn’t it?’ Hattie said. They were eating steak and kidney pie. Jo had made it using frozen pastry but it was still amazing. Seth had decided to X-ray Speedy’s leg and had then been happy to give him a clean bill of health – he’d perhaps caught his leg, turned it awkwardly and made it tender for a couple of days. Whatever the problem, it seemed to be resolving itself now. As for the rescued chickens, Hattie discovered that they’d come from the farm of an old man who’d recently died, leaving the property to his children. They were currently busy dismantling it and systematically selling each bit off, including all the animals. Many had either already gone or were promised to buyers, and some weren’t as lucky as the hens that had come to Jo, going to market for slaughter.
The newest residents of Sweet Briar Farm were settling in well. Jo had warned that she and Hattie shouldn’t expect too much in the way of eggs from them as some of them were past their prime but, so far, the brood had pleasantly surprised them and provided eggs for breakfast for the last three days. Hattie wondered whether Jo had been asked to pay for the hens and how much – it seemed likely. She also wondered whether Jo had wanted to take any of the other still homeless animals, but she hadn’t liked to ask for fear of touching on a sore point. Jo was never what you’d call open, but Hattie suspected, from what she could gather, that there were things beyond her control and they probably involved money – something that Hattie suspected there was a serious lack of.
Hattie's Home for Broken Hearts: A heartwarming laugh out loud romantic comedy Page 10
