As the temperature dropped, Rhonda decided to go inside. She urged Hattie to do the same, but when Hattie told her that she’d rather stay out and make the most of the evening, Rhonda disappeared and returned a few moments later with a blanket, which she wrapped around Hattie’s shoulders, along with the rest of the wine. Hattie gave her a grateful smile and watched as she went inside. She’d thought a lot about her parents lately and what they wanted from her, and about Charlotte. While she realised that they were never going to see eye to eye on her future, Hattie also realised that she was lucky to have them. It sounded, from what she’d said, as if Jo hadn’t been so lucky. But then, if there had been any question of culpability in Charlotte’s death, would her parents have done the same as Jo’s? Hattie liked to think not, but she guessed she’d never know.
On reflection, it would have been healthier to talk to someone about Owen at least, because she was bottling up a lot of anger and hurt, and her mum really ought to have been that person. The worst of it was that she’d rejected Seth for someone who’d turned out to have less virtue in his whole body than Seth had in his little fingernail. Owen had said he’d been trying to break up with this girl – was that because he’d been caught or because he’d genuinely been trying to? Hattie recalled now the hurriedly rejected phone call in the Greek restaurant and guessed that might have been her. It didn’t matter, because he shouldn’t have been trying to break up with her while he was seeing Hattie; he should have done it before, and there was only his word that he’d ever intended to at all. Hattie didn’t have much time for his word right now.
She gazed at the garden, bathed in golden light, and she hardly knew how she felt about anything right now; she only knew that she barely recognised her life at the moment. It was like leaving Paris all over again, only this time it felt far messier than a simple accident with some candles and dodgy curtain material.
But thinking of Paris made Hattie wonder whether perhaps Melinda had unwittingly hit on the solution after all. Maybe trying again in Paris wasn’t such a bad idea. She still had connections there and it would be nice and distant – far away from Seth and Jo and Owen and the messes she’d made with all of them. Paris in the autumn… she’d always loved the riot of oranges and reds as the leaves fell and muffled the paving stones of the boulevards, and the sharp mornings that made her breath rise into the air like tiny clouds. She’d start the day with a strong coffee and a croissant from the patisserie just down the road from her flat, eating it on her balcony wrapped in a thick cardigan and listening to the sounds of the city. The thought of it sounded nice now, like a call to go home.
Hattie folded the blanket and took it inside with the empty wine glass and bottle. The sun was almost below the horizon now, mist settling on the fields beyond her parents’ garden. It had brought her peace for a short while, but peace couldn’t last forever. She needed to take action. Going to her bedroom, she picked up her phone from the bedside table and dialled.
‘Alphonse…’
‘Hattie? Mon dieu! It is Hattie!’
‘Yes, it’s me.’ Hattie smiled. ‘I just wondered… you remember you phoned me some weeks ago and asked if I would consider returning to Paris to work for you again?’
‘Of course! But I have Colette.’
‘I know and I wouldn’t want to take Colette’s job, but if you could perhaps see your way to… I don’t know… finding another job that I could do…?’
‘This surprises me!’ Alphonse said.
‘I suppose it would.’
‘But why?’
‘I’m ready to come back now, that’s all.’
‘You miss the little Paris sparkle, yes?’
‘Yes,’ Hattie said, laughing despite her misery. ‘I miss the Paris sparkle. I could certainly do with some right now.’
‘Alors… I will look at my books and I will let you know.’
‘I’d love that,’ Hattie said. ‘Alphonse, if you don’t have anything then I understand that. But maybe you might know somebody else who might want an assistant and you could put in a word for me?’
‘Make you a gift for my rival?’ Alphonse tutted loudly. ‘Over my body!’
Hattie smiled. She could have corrected the phrase, but why would she want to ruin what was perfect despite its flaws?
‘When will you come?’ he asked.
Hattie sat on the bed and looked around at her room. She had brought few belongings back from Paris and had even fewer to transport back.
‘As soon as I can,’ she said. ‘There’s no point in hanging around here now.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘I didn’t really want you to go,’ Melinda said. ‘I was only joking.’
‘I know, but it actually makes a lot of sense,’ Hattie said.
Stu was in the garden exerting a fair amount of crowd control on his family as they played on the swings, while Melinda entertained Hattie at their kitchen table.
‘You look terrible, by the way,’ Melinda added.
Hattie had slept fitfully, feeling impatient to move on now that she’d made up her mind, dreading breaking the news to her parents and having to tell them (some) of why she’d decided to leave Gillypuddle again.
‘What an absolute bastard he turned out to be,’ Melinda continued. Hattie had been there for fifteen minutes now and, since telling Melinda the whole story of everything that had happened and her recent decision to return to Paris, she had barely said two sentences – because Melinda was channelling her inner grump and using Hattie’s misfortunes to complain about the world in general. Hattie guessed it was pregnancy hormones that had turned her friend from Mary Poppins to the Terminator, and she hoped it was only a temporary change, for poor Stu’s sake.
‘I don’t know about that,’ Hattie said. ‘Maybe he was being genuine and just handled it badly. I must admit it’s worn me out though.’
‘You won’t even be here to meet my new baby and it’s all his fault!’
‘Don’t worry – I’ll come home to visit when you’ve had your baby.’
‘And you’ll probably have to miss the christening. Does that man have any idea of the trouble he’s caused? And what about Seth?’ Melinda folded her arms. Beneath them the first tiny bump of her new pregnancy was just visible. Hattie couldn’t deny that she was a little sad she wouldn’t be around much for this new one again, or for any of Melinda’s children for that matter – she’d become very fond of them over the summer months as she’d got to know them properly, as more than just a visitor who flew in and out for the odd day.
‘What about Seth?’ Hattie asked.
‘Well, you’re free now? Why on earth are you running off to Paris when he’s right there?’
‘I don’t think that would work out,’ Hattie said in a dull voice. ‘I think maybe that ship has sailed, all things considered.’
‘You told him the truth, which is more than Owen did for you,’ Melinda insisted. ‘I should think that puts you very firmly in the good books.’
‘I told him the truth after I’d kissed him and let him think I was available,’ Hattie reminded her.
‘Technicalities,’ Melinda said. ‘You didn’t go out with him and you didn’t two-time him – that’s what counts.’
‘I’m not sure Seth would agree with you on that.’ Hattie sighed. ‘Look – it’s just too messy. I’m ready for a clean break and I think it would be better all round.’
‘Paris is hardly a clean break – you have history there, don’t forget.’
‘It’s a different history; not nearly as complicated.’
Melinda huffed. Then her gaze went to the window and she leapt up from her chair and banged on the glass of the patio doors.
‘Stu! Watch him!’ she shouted. ‘That swing is going way too high!’
Sitting down again, she fixed Hattie with a steely gaze.
‘Remind me never to get on your wrong side while you’re expecting,’ Hattie said.
‘Don’t try to change the subject. I�
��m not happy about all this Paris business and I can’t pretend I am.’
‘I’m not sure I’m entirely happy if I’m honest about it,’ Hattie said.
Melinda threw her hands into the air. ‘Then why go?’
‘I said – it’s for the best.’
‘For who?’
‘For everyone.’
‘For everyone or just for you? You want to know what I think?’
‘I have a feeling you’re going to tell me either way.’
‘I think you’re running scared because everything looks too big to sort out.’
‘OK, yes, but I think everything is too big to sort out. What’s more, it’s mostly all my fault.’
‘I hardly think so. You’re not God, are you? Situations get spoiled just fine without your help. I mean, maybe you egg them on a bit but… you didn’t make Owen a cheating pig, and you didn’t make Jo’s sister die in some horrible accident, and you didn’t make her go mad with guilt, and you didn’t make Seth all uptight just because you kissed him and then made yourself available in slightly the wrong order.’ Melinda leapt up and rapped on the patio doors again. ‘For God’s sake, Stu! She’s practically hanging off there!’
She sat down again and faced Hattie. But then the scowl lifted from her face and her lip began to tremble.
‘Are you alright?’ Hattie asked.
‘Hormones,’ Melinda said shortly. ‘Oh, and you.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes – you’re making me cry. There!’
‘Why?’
‘Because I don’t want you to go to Paris, that’s why. Paris can bloody well go swing for all I care!’
‘I’m sorry,’ Hattie said. ‘But I’ve made up my mind and nothing is going to change it now.’
‘Not even your best friend?’
Hattie gave her a sad smile. ‘Sorry, Mel. Not even you.’
Her parents had taken the news that Hattie was headed back to Paris badly too – and they didn’t have hormones to blame for their reaction. Rhonda had wept and asked when on earth her daughter was ever going to settle in one place, while her dad felt duty-bound to remind her that her last stay in Paris hadn’t ended well and why did she think that this time would be any better? It was time to find a proper job, he said, rather than messing around with informal agreements with this or that person. The annoying thing was, Hattie could see his point, but her mind had been made up and there was little point in him trying to change it. Besides, Alphonse had been true to his word and had carved out a little job for her in his mini empire. It wasn’t very glamorous – more or less a glorified clerk taking care of his admin, such as his admin ever was – and she suspected that the job had never really existed at all, but that Alphonse had created it out of the goodness of his heart to help her out. It wasn’t as well paid as the one that Colette had inherited from her either, but it would be enough to begin with.
She’d booked her flights for the following weekend, which would give her time to wrap things up in Gillypuddle, including a goodbye for the people who meant the most to her. She’d been to see Rupert and had spent an evening with him and Armstrong, his ancient cat, which he seemed to enjoy very much, and she’d been to see other friends throughout the village, including Lance and Mark. Lance had heard from Owen that Hattie had dumped him, though Owen had pretended not to know why. Hattie thought that was silly because it should have been obvious to Owen that Hattie would tell Lance everything, so if it was an attempt to save face, it was a misguided one. Lance had apologised profusely when he’d heard the truth, sorry that he’d ever introduced them at all. Even though he’d heard Owen could be a ladies’ man he’d never believed it to be true, and he was sorry for that too. Hattie told him not to feel bad and she kissed him on the cheek and told him that he and Mark were welcome to see her in Paris any time. He would, he said, if they could be certain Phyllis wouldn’t try to man the café alone in their absence and accidentally burn it down.
She thought about going to see Seth, but in the end she didn’t. By the end of the week the whole village knew that Hattie was leaving; Seth would have heard about it from someone and if he cared at all he’d have come to say goodbye. He didn’t, and so Hattie took that as a fairly reliable sign of his feelings on the matter. There didn’t seem any point in subjecting him to an awkward meeting that he probably didn’t want. She couldn’t deny that it stung, though. Maybe she’d never really meant as much to him as she’d imagined, and if he hated her for leading him on, maybe she deserved it.
It was Friday evening and she was packing the last of her clothes when the knock came at the door. Her parents had gone to play bridge with their friends in the neighbouring village, which they did on the last Friday of every month and nothing would ever change that, not even Hattie’s imminent departure. But they’d promised to be home early so they could spend a few hours with her on her last evening in Gillypuddle. Hattie sensed some reluctance on her dad’s part, but it was probably only frustration that he’d failed to make her see what he thought was folly in her decision to return to Paris.
As she placed the last shirt into her case, the sound of a fist on the front door echoed through the house. Hattie froze. It sounded aggressive, and she was in alone. She went to the window and looked out, her breath catching as she noticed Seth’s car. Had he finally come to say something – anything – about her going? Would it be like one of those romantic movies where the hero rushes in at the last minute and begs the heroine not to leave because he loves her?
Hattie raced downstairs, her heart beating wildly, and flung open the door.
‘I need your dad,’ Seth said urgently.
Hattie’s hope collapsed like a punctured airbed, but she had the presence of mind to maintain some semblance of calm in the face of her disappointment. She simultaneously longed for him and hated his guts right now, but she was in agreement with herself on one thing – it would have been better if he hadn’t come if this was the best he could do.
‘He’s not here. I can give him a message when he gets back or you can try his mobile, the number’s—’
‘What do you make of this?’ Seth shoved a sheet of paper at Hattie. On it was a letter, written by hand. She’d seen that writing before, and it didn’t take her long to confirm her suspicions when she read the sign-off at the end.
‘Rehome the donkeys?’ Hattie stared at Seth, all thoughts of how much she loathed and detested him for not kissing her right there on the doorstep forgotten. ‘Why?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
Hattie looked at the letter again and read it carefully, unable to believe the contents.
‘I thought you might have more of an idea than me,’ Seth added. ‘After all, you know her better than anyone else in Gillypuddle.’
‘Maybe, but don’t forget that she threw me out,’ Hattie said, choosing not to add twice to the end of her sentence. As far as she knew, Seth was unaware of Hattie’s second attempt to make peace with Jo, when she’d tried to get her to open up about her sister.
‘What about the bit at the end?’ Seth asked. ‘If you see Hattie, tell her I’m sorry for everything…’
‘I don’t know. I guess she realises she gave me a hard time?’
‘She wouldn’t part with those donkeys for the world – you know that as well as I do.’
‘Then why write you a letter to say that’s what she wants you to do?’
‘Because she knows I’ll go up there… Listen, she posted it through the door after surgery hours. Any other Friday night I’d have been on my way home, but it just so happened I had accounts to do and I was still in the office tonight. I don’t think she was expecting me to pick this up until tomorrow morning.’
‘Your Saturday surgery?’
‘Exactly. I’d get this and I’d open it up and after I’d seen my patients I’d phone the farm. I’d get no reply and then I’d drive up there just to see what the hell this is about and—’
‘Why no reply?’
‘What?’
‘Why would you get no reply when you phoned?’ Hattie frowned. ‘Do you think she’s leaving Gillypuddle?’
‘Yes.’
‘To live somewhere else? Without the donkeys? It makes no sense…’
‘I agree – it’s completely out of character. You know how she feels about those animals.’
Hattie’s mind raced. Why would Jo do this? Seth was right – it was totally out of character and out of the blue. Was it a reaction to Hattie’s last visit? Was she moving away because Hattie had discovered her secret?
No, she decided. Jo would never leave the donkeys like that. If she planned to move away she’d rehome them herself. She’d want to see that they went to a good place and she’d want to wrap everything up properly. Hattie cast her mind back to that last visit. Jo wasn’t herself at all. Things were… not as they ought to be. Hadn’t Jo been in bed at some strange hour? And a mess in the house unlike Hattie had ever known. Jo hadn’t been coping at all.
‘Unless…’ she said slowly. ‘She was struggling – last time I saw her. She didn’t seem herself.’
‘Down? Not coping so well?’
‘Yes.’
Seth nodded. ‘What do you think it means?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t… Seth… you don’t think things have got so bad that…?’
‘I’m afraid I do. I didn’t want to think so, but if you think so too…’
‘I don’t know what to think – it seems so unlikely.’
‘It’s the only explanation. This letter…’ Seth snatched the piece of paper from Hattie’s hand and waved it desperately in front of her face. ‘It’s a suicide note!’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Seth muttered under his breath as he drove. Hattie couldn’t make out much of it, but she was certain there was a fair amount of cursing and blaming, and questioning people’s stupidity. He was scared, and Hattie was too. She held the letter in her hands and looked down again at it now as Seth took the road to Sweet Briar.
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