Hattie's Home for Broken Hearts: A heartwarming laugh out loud romantic comedy

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘I’m glad.’ It was her turn to instigate a kiss, and when they finished she raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘Tell me honestly – was the beer festival a press freebie too?’

  ‘You think this was a freebie?’

  Hattie’s eyebrows went even higher and he laughed. ‘OK, caught red-handed. But the beer festival wasn’t – I just really like beer enough to pay for that.’

  Hattie giggled and she let him kiss her again. Then he leaned back in his seat and studied her. ‘You are so cute. Lance did me a solid when he introduced me to you.’

  Mentioning Lance brought back to mind life at Gillypuddle and the responsibilities that were waiting back there for Hattie.

  ‘I should probably get back,’ she said, wanting anything but a trip back to the depressing interior of Sweet Briar Farm. For a while, she’d been able to forget all the worries that existed within those walls, but now she was reminded forcefully of them.

  ‘Do you have to?’ Owen asked. ‘We’re having so much fun.’

  ‘Don’t you have to get back too? Your journey is a lot longer than mine.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re probably right,’ he said, his reluctance obvious in his voice. He turned the key to start the car engine. ‘But maybe it wouldn’t add too much time to the journey home if we stopped off somewhere for supper?’ he added. ‘I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again and I’d like to make the most of today.’

  ‘You make it sound as if you’re going off to war,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Your schedule can’t be that bad, surely?’

  ‘More like unpredictable,’ he said. ‘That’s the real problem.’

  As they pulled out of the car park, Hattie remembered to check her phone. Melinda had replied, expressing insane jealousy over Hattie’s temporary VIP status but rather less approval of the monster-truck aspect of the date. What she actually said was that if a man took her to see trucks she’d push him under one of them. Even Stu her mechanic husband knew better than that.

  There were also a couple of missed calls from the landline at Sweet Briar. Hattie dialled the number to see what Jo wanted, although she probably wanted nothing more than to show her annoyance at Hattie’s absence and to demand to know what time she would be back. Hattie wasn’t in the mood for it, but she supposed that she had to call and find out anyway.

  There was no answer. Perhaps Jo was out seeing to the donkeys or hens. The thought of it made Hattie feel a little guilty that she wasn’t there to help, even though she didn’t want to feel that way. And, she reasoned to herself, trying to feel better, it wasn’t as if Jo was a stranger to managing alone – she had done it all before Hattie had moved in.

  ‘Do you mind if we skip that supper and head straight back?’ she asked, putting her phone away. She looked up as Owen glanced briefly at her before turning back to the road. He looked disappointed but he didn’t argue.

  ‘Sorry,’ she added. ‘But I’ve been missing for most of the day and I think Jo might need me.’

  ‘It’s a weekend,’ he said. ‘Everyone deserves a weekend off.’

  ‘You don’t always; you were working today.’

  ‘You don’t ever as far as I can tell.’

  ‘Yes, but the donkeys don’t know it’s the weekend, do they? They still need to be cared for, no matter what day it is.’

  ‘Can I speak plainly?’ he asked after a pause. He didn’t wait for a reply. ‘I think Jo relies too heavily on you. Just because that place is her life she can’t expect it to be the same for you.’

  ‘It’s kind of what I signed up for.’

  ‘Nobody should have to sign up for that. She can’t ask that much of you or anyone else. You need other things in your life or you’ll burn out.’

  ‘Other things like you?’ Hattie asked with a half-smile.

  ‘Like anything,’ he said. But then he added: ‘Yeah. Maybe a bit like me.’

  Hattie let out a sigh. ‘You’re right – I know. It’s just hard to make her see it.’

  ‘But you have to; you have to sit her down and talk to her. If she keeps pushing you, she won’t have you at all.’

  ‘I know that too, but right now isn’t the best time to have that discussion.’

  ‘Maybe not, but I don’t think any time will be the right one.’

  ‘I guess not.’

  ‘Do it anyway, whether the time is right or not. If you don’t, I guarantee something will snap.’

  Hattie looked out at the landscape flashing by, the fields of wheat and rapeseed burnished by the low sun. Maybe Owen was right. No – Owen was right. But a conversation like that wasn’t going to be easy to have with Jo, who barely wanted to talk on a good day and certainly wasn’t very interested these days. And with so much else to worry about, it only felt like an unwelcome and selfish distraction from what really mattered. She’d talk to Jo, but the time had to be right, and now wasn’t it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Owen had left her with a long, lingering kiss. She could have sat in the car for hours with him, making out like some teenager in an American movie, but she couldn’t know if Jo was watching, just as she had been from her window before they’d left, and the idea was more than a little off-putting. So she bid him a reluctant goodbye with a final kiss, and he promised to call her the minute he knew when he was next free.

  Once he’d driven away, she looked for Jo. The donkeys were already fastened in for the night, as were the chickens. Around this time of the evening the kitchen would usually still be full of the smells of whatever Jo had cooked for dinner, but tonight it was cold and clean and didn’t smell of anything but old stone and waxed wood. Hattie even went into Jo’s room, concerned that maybe Jo had taken to her bed feeling unwell. But there was no sign of her there either. Hattie checked the garage and the car was gone. It seemed the farm had been deserted and, knowing Jo as she did, that fact in itself was a cause for concern. Annoyingly, Jo’s absolute refusal to own a mobile meant that Hattie couldn’t phone her either. If it had been anyone willing to embrace the twenty-first century, it was possible that Hattie would have been able to locate them with a lot less fuss and worry.

  Puzzled and concerned, but really unable to do very much but wait around and hope that Jo would return soon, perhaps having ventured out for some kind of emergency supplies or something, Hattie decided to call Seth to see how Norbert was. Seth had given her and Jo his private number so they could call any time if they were worried. Hopefully, there would be good news and Norbert would be improving.

  It rang for a while and Hattie was just about to give up when Seth finally answered.

  ‘Hi, Seth, it’s Hattie. I hope you don’t mind me calling at this time on a Saturday, but I was wondering how Norbert was.’

  ‘Ah,’ Seth said, and the tone of his voice in that short exclamation was enough to tell Hattie that she needed to brace herself. ‘Um… Hattie, it’s not good news, I’m afraid.’

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘We’ve had the scan results back early. Norbert has a sizeable tumour – it’s the cause of his problems.’

  ‘A tumour? Like cancer?’ Hattie asked incredulously. Somehow the idea that an animal could get cancer just like a human had simply never occurred to her, and the idea of that being the root of Norbert’s malady had similarly never crossed her mind.

  ‘I’m afraid so. It’s really quite advanced. Jo’s here with him now. She says she tried to contact you but…’

  ‘I couldn’t hear my phone,’ Hattie said. ‘I was somewhere a bit noisy. Jo’s with him now? What does that mean? She’s locked up the farm and everything and she’d never leave…’

  There was only one possible reason that Jo would lock everything up at the farm and venture out, and Hattie knew now that she should have realised that straight away. ‘Oh no…’

  ‘We have to do the kindest thing for him,’ Seth said.

  Surely Seth didn’t mean what Hattie thought he meant? Surely he wasn’t talking about the unthinkable? ‘Can’t h
e be cured? There must be something you can do. Isn’t there some operation to get rid of it? Chemo? My dad always—’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Seth said gently. ‘Listen, this is not a conversation to have over the phone. If you want to come down now I’ll talk you through everything.’

  ‘But I can’t get to you!’ Hattie said, blinking back tears. ‘Jo’s taken the car! You’re not doing it today, are you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t usually do this sort of thing on a weekend but he really is suffering and I don’t see any point in delaying it.’

  ‘But you can’t!’

  ‘It’s not fair to keep him hanging on as he is,’ Seth said, his voice full of sympathy.

  ‘But I need to see him! You can’t do it just like that – I have to see him first!’

  ‘I’m sorry but it’s for the best. Is there no way you can get here? I can wait for you before I do anything.’

  ‘I…’ Hattie hurriedly weighed up her options. Maybe Owen would come back for her? But it didn’t seem like the sort of thing she could ask of him at this stage in their relationship. Her dad? Yes, her dad would do it; he’d come.

  ‘Please wait,’ she said. ‘I’ll get there as soon as I can.’

  Hattie ended the call and dialled her parents’ house. Her dad picked up on the third ring, as if the universe had willed him to be there in her hour of need.

  ‘Oh Dad…’ she sobbed. ‘I need you!’

  Seth had left the gate open so that Hattie and her dad could drive straight into the section of his practice that housed the inpatients. Jo came out of the hospital block as Hattie headed towards it. She showed no sign of emotion – for all anyone could tell she’d been checking on the contents of the barn at Sweet Briar. Only the fact that she was here at all gave any clue to how upset she was.

  Hattie’s dad had wanted to come in with her but she’d sent him away. This was her task and she needed to do it; she needed to be there for Jo whatever happened, and Jo wasn’t going to open up if Nigel was there. Hattie needed her to feel free to talk if she was going to be able to support her. So he’d driven away with the instruction to call him if she needed him again. Hattie was certain she wouldn’t because she imagined that she’d be travelling back to the farm with Jo once Norbert had…

  She didn’t want to think about that because it hurt too much, even though she knew that very soon she’d have to.

  ‘How is he?’ she asked, running to Jo.

  ‘Didn’t Seth tell you?’

  ‘Well, yes, but…’

  Jo shook her head. ‘I’ll see you back at the farm.’

  Hattie stared at her. ‘You’re not staying?’

  Had they already done it? But Seth had promised to wait. Why would Jo leave now?

  ‘I’ve said goodbye. The others need me now; I’ve got to keep an eye on Blue especially in case he gets distressed.’

  ‘So you’re not going to be with him when…?’

  Jo looked at her and Hattie wished she could work out what was going on behind those eyes. She shook her head.

  ‘That’s for you to do,’ she said before walking to her car.

  Hattie stared after her. What did that mean? Was Jo doing her a kindness or leaving her with a dirty job? Was she asking Hattie to do this because she couldn’t bear to see Norbert’s end, or because she thought Hattie would want to be the one to see him through his last moments?

  Jo was already through the gates and away and it looked as though Hattie was going to have to work all that out for herself. But whatever Jo’s reasons, Hattie had also been handed the solemn responsibility of being with Norbert as Seth sent him to sleep. She wasn’t sure now whether she could do it. She could barely find the strength to go in and see him now that she was here, let alone watch as Seth did what he needed to do.

  As she was thinking of all this, Seth came out. He looked calm but weary. Hattie wondered whether he ever got used to making this decision about an animal, even though he must be called on to make it time and time again.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he asked.

  Hattie nodded, unable to speak. Seeing him now reminded her of why they were there and for a moment she was overwhelmed.

  ‘Jo said you’d want to do this,’ he continued gently. ‘She said you’d been closest to him since you arrived. But if you’re not sure then you don’t have to—’

  ‘Yes,’ Hattie said, forcing her tears back. ‘I have, I suppose, but…’

  ‘I understand if it’s too much for you.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Hattie said, breaking down again. ‘I’d feel terrible leaving him alone to face this, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough… Jo should have done it; she’d have been better… not so pathetic.’

  ‘It’s no weakness if you can’t; it just shows that you care, that’s all. It shows that you loved him.’

  ‘I do!’ Hattie said, hating the way Seth was talking about Norbert in the past tense already. ‘And you’re sure there’s nothing that can be done? There has to be something. If it’s just money I can ask my dad—’

  ‘It’s not money,’ Seth said. ‘He’s suffering, and no amount of money can change that. If it was just money I’d come to some arrangement with you. I would never see you struggle; what you both do up there for these animals is too important to make it about money.’

  Hattie nodded. What Seth had said struck a chord with her, and she realised that, despite his denial, he just had to be the mysterious donor who’d given them enough money to pay his bill. He’d have maybe thought that, having not paid their bill, they’d be too scared to ask for his help – and he would always want to put the animals first. The idea only made her sadder, though, and she began to cry again, tears soaking into her shirt. She was still wearing her date clothes and she could still smell Owen’s cologne on them. How could a day turn like this in a matter of seconds?

  ‘We should go in,’ Seth said. ‘The nurse is waiting for us.’

  Hattie followed him in. Norbert looked older and sadder than she’d ever seen him, and he barely registered her arrival. She didn’t want to admit that Seth might be right about this but she had to trust him that leaving Norbert like this wasn’t kind.

  ‘Oh…!’ she cried, and went to him, pressing her face to the teddy-bear fur of his neck and weeping into it.

  ‘Hattie…’ Seth said gently, his hand on her arm to guide her away. ‘It’s time.’

  ‘Goodnight, Norbert,’ she whispered into the donkey’s ear. ‘Don’t be scared – I’m here…’

  But then she looked into his old eyes and she couldn’t do it; she couldn’t stay.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whimpered, and then ran, sobbing, out into the evening.

  Seth found her sitting on an ornamental bench in the quadrangle of the surgery’s Victorian gardens.

  ‘Did you do it?’ she asked, trying to steady her voice as she looked at a wall of climbing roses, wild and wayward, laden with pink blooms on thorny branches. Her dad would have been itching to prune them.

  ‘Yes.’ He sat next to her on the bench. ‘He wouldn’t have known anything of it, if that helps.’

  ‘It does. I’m sorry.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For being so pathetic. I feel just awful that I didn’t stay with him.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It does. Jo trusted me to do that much and I let her down.’

  ‘You’re being too hard on yourself. There aren’t many who’d be able to stay – trust me; I see it all the time.’

  ‘You won’t tell Jo, will you?’

  ‘Not if you’d rather I didn’t.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Hattie looked up at him. ‘How do you do your job? Doesn’t it break your heart every time you have to do this?’

  ‘Of course it does. I trained as a vet to save animals at all costs. But sometimes that’s not the kindest thing, and doing the kindest thing is more important. Sometimes ending their pain is saving them. I don’t like it, but shying away from what needs to b
e done doesn’t help the animal in question, so I just have to take my responsibility seriously and do it.’

  ‘I couldn’t do it.’

  ‘I know. But that doesn’t make you weaker than me, if that’s what you’re thinking. It makes you sweet and compassionate. It makes you the kind of person the world should have more of.’

  At another time, maybe Hattie would have been comforted, or even flattered by his words. But now, they only caused her to sob again.

  ‘Hey…’ Seth put an arm around her and she buried her face in his shirt. When she finally managed to stop crying she sat back.

  ‘Oh God!’ she said, mortified. ‘I got mascara all over your shirt! I’m so sorry!’

  ‘It’s just a shirt,’ he said. And he smiled with such tenderness that Hattie couldn’t help what she did next.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Every time she thought about it she burned with shame. Seth had been so sweet, so chivalrous and understanding, and they had both excused it as an extreme reaction to the stress of the day. But in the back of her mind, Hattie couldn’t ignore the voice that was telling her that even though her actions had been spontaneous and utterly inappropriate, she’d kissed Seth and she’d liked it. No – she’d loved it. Not only that, and no matter what they’d said, Seth had kissed her back. He’d gently pushed her away eventually, but there had been a delay, one charged moment before he had, something she was finding hard to put out of her mind.

  Hattie had made her excuses and raced out, her emotions pulled in directions that she didn’t think were even possible. Although she’d told her dad she wouldn’t need him, she phoned him as she started to walk home and her own personal knight had come out to rescue her. Anything to get away from Seth and what she’d done. At least she’d been able to explain away her strange mood on what had happened to Norbert so her dad hadn’t asked too many questions.

  He’d dropped her at the farmhouse. There was a low light on in the kitchen, but when Hattie went in, Jo was nowhere to be seen. She went out to the stables. Her hunch had been right; Jo was fussing Blue there.