Dear Seth
I need your help. I need you to come to the farm. I need to find new homes for the donkeys and chickens right away. I have instructions for each one, because they need special care, and you can get them when you come.
If you see Hattie, tell her I’m sorry for everything.
Jo Flint
The last time she’d been up there Hattie had wondered whether Jo was managing as she ought to be, but she’d never imagined it was this bad. But now, the evidence had been there all along. Or had it? Was it a crazy overreaction to think that she might take her own life? After all, she’d been so dedicated to her animals that Hattie couldn’t imagine a circumstance in which Jo would want to entrust them to anyone else. And although she lived a life of isolation, she seemed to like it that way. Hattie had thought her the toughest, most stubborn, most determined woman she’d ever known. And Hattie had thought that Jo loved her life up at the farm. Had it all been a lie? If she’d really been happy, why would she have been asking for a live-in assistant when Hattie first got the job? Had it been because she really wasn’t happy at all? Had it been a cry for help, for someone to understand her? If it had, then Hattie had stepped up to the plate but, ultimately, she’d been found lacking. If anything had happened to Jo, it would be Hattie’s fault. Hattie didn’t dare dwell on the possibility. She clung to the hope that if Jo were to do something awful, she’d want to see the animals safely in their shelters first, which meant that they had… minutes? Dusk was already covering the land, the skies shell pink and iced blue, and there was a good chance Jo had taken the donkeys down already.
She glanced across at Seth, his concentration steady and purposeful as he took the bumpy road to the farm at speed, his lips still moving sporadically as he cursed or prayed or maybe even encouraged himself to see this through.
‘Do you think we might be wrong about this?’ Hattie asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Jo won’t appreciate us barging in if we are.’
‘Think about it for a minute,’ Seth said, as if Hattie had just made the most stupid comment he’d ever heard. ‘Think about what’s in that letter.’
Hattie looked at it again. Jo was a woman who wasted no words when she spoke and it seemed she was the same when she wrote them down. There was really nothing in the words she’d written, but it was the words she hadn’t written that were the worry. Despite what she’d just said to Seth, Hattie couldn’t help but feel he might be right about this.
At the entrance to the farm, Hattie leapt out of the car and opened the gates to let Seth drive into the courtyard. As he parked up, she ran to the house. The door was open, as always, and she went into the kitchen and called out for Jo.
There was no answer. Hattie rushed upstairs and checked the rooms, her own now an empty, cold shell. Jo’s bed was unmade and the sheets were grubby, and on it lay a photo album. Hattie’s eyes filled with tears as she glanced at it to see pictures of a woman who was unmistakably related to Jo, smiling out at her, but there was no time to dwell on it.
As she got back to the kitchen, Seth was snatching up a sheet of paper from the table.
‘Instructions,’ he said tersely. ‘For the animals, just like she said.’
‘I can’t see her upstairs,’ Hattie replied. ‘Maybe she’s putting the animals to bed.’
‘You check the orchard and I’ll go to the stables.’
Hattie nodded and went outside.
The plum trees were heavy with fruit, though much of it still needed time to ripen, and she could hear the chickens fussing. She looked into their enclosure to see they’d been fastened in for the night.
‘Jo!’ she called. ‘Jo… are you here?’
There was no reply and Hattie didn’t waste any more time there. She raced to the stables and met Seth on the way out.
‘Donkeys are all in,’ he said. ‘What now?’
‘She’s not there?’
Seth gave his head a grim shake and Hattie realised that it was probably a stupid question but she was stuck. If Jo wasn’t in the house, the orchard, or the stables, then where? Had she guessed people would come looking? Had she hidden herself where nobody would find her? The idea appalled Hattie and yet, knowing Jo, she had to consider it.
‘Maybe she’s not on the farm at all,’ Hattie said. ‘Maybe she’s packed up and left.’
‘Did the house look packed up to you?’
‘Well, no…’ Hattie thought about her own suitcase, still open on her bed at home. ‘But she might not have taken much.’
‘She’d never leave without rehoming the animals first.’
‘But she’d never do anything without making sure they were alright first in any event.’
‘Unless she was very desperate,’ Seth said.
‘Unless she wasn’t really in her right mind?’
‘Exactly.’
Hattie wondered if Jo had been in her right mind at all in the time she’d known her. Was the woman Hattie had lived with the real Jo Flint? Or was she the post-traumatic Jo Flint, the woman who couldn’t move past her sister’s death and the idea that she’d caused it? What if the woman the whole of Gillypuddle knew wasn’t her at all?
Hattie had no idea, but she knew one thing: they had a duty to find out, to save her if they could – whatever that meant. She didn’t care how angry Jo might be this time, because things had gone too far to worry about that.
Seth was silent, staring across the courtyard. And then he turned to Hattie and they spoke as one.
‘Cliffs.’
‘We’ll take the car,’ he said.
Hattie ran, clambering into the passenger seat, barely in before he’d started the engine. The car threw them around as Seth took the narrow, winding path at speed. It wasn’t really a road, and it had never been designed for cars, but to walk it would take precious minutes Hattie was scared they didn’t have. They passed the top field, empty now as darkness crept over it, and Seth pulled up in a clearing at the cliff edge. Hattie tumbled out, looking frantically left and right. Seth appeared at her side. The light was fading, but following his outstretched arm she could see now what he had seen: a figure further along the line of the coast, looking out to sea.
Hattie opened her mouth to call out but Seth slapped a hand over it.
‘If she knows we’re here she’ll jump.’
Hattie stared at him.
‘It might not even be her,’ he added.
‘What do we do?’
‘Get closer, check who it is, talk to her then if it’s her. She won’t have as much time to decide she doesn’t want to talk to us.’
‘She might jump right there and then if she really doesn’t want to talk to us,’ Hattie said, shivering at the words that had just come from her mouth. In her wildest nightmares she could never have imagined that one day she’d have to deal with a moment like this.
Hattie followed Seth as they circled back to approach the figure from behind. If they were quiet enough, Seth said, maybe they could get close without the person noticing; close enough to see if it was Jo or not. It all felt faintly ridiculous and yet utterly terrifying, and Hattie’s heart was beating like the wings of a trapped bird as they negotiated the uneven ground as quickly as they could. It was hard going, and it took a couple of minutes, and every agonising second came with the fear that they might be too late.
As they drew closer there was no mistaking Jo’s outline. A few feet away, Seth opened his mouth to speak, but Jo turned around. Her eyes were swollen and red, and her usually proud shoulders were slumped.
‘Come away from the edge,’ Seth said.
Jo shook her head.
‘Please…’ he added. ‘Just for a minute so we can talk.’
‘So you can talk me out of it?’ Jo said.
‘We don’t know what it is,’ Seth replied.
Jo looked at Hattie. Perhaps she was expecting her to add something, but Hattie didn’t know what to say.
‘Don’t feel guilty,’ Jo
said to her finally. ‘There’s nothing anyone could have done, not even you.’
‘I don’t understand—’ Hattie began, but Jo took another step closer to the cliff edge.
Hattie watched in horror as Jo took a breath and closed her eyes, and she began to tilt forwards, so slowly that it felt like time had gone wrong. In the next second, Seth lunged forward, grabbed Jo’s arm and yanked her away. She fell to the ground with a howl and he went with her.
‘No! Let me go!’ she cried, desperately trying to pull away.
‘If you go,’ Seth said, steel in his voice as he continued to grip her arm, ‘then I’ll go with you. Do you really want that?’
Jo looked up at him. ‘No,’ she sobbed. ‘But I don’t want to be here either.’
‘Why?’ Seth panted. Hattie could see it was taking every ounce of self-control he possessed not to let the situation break him. ‘Give me one good reason why I should let you do this and, if I’m convinced, I’ll let go.’
‘You won’t let go,’ Jo cried.
‘No, I won’t, because we could sit here for ten years and you’d still never be able to give me a convincing reason.’
Jo looked up at Hattie. ‘Please…’ she said. ‘You know everything. You know why.’
Seth looked at Hattie now, his expression demanding an explanation. He looked angry and afraid and lost, and Hattie knew that it was going to look bad that she hadn’t told him what she’d known about Jo, particularly now, when it might have helped.
‘I do,’ Hattie said. ‘But I’m with Seth – it’s still not a convincing reason to let you do this.’
‘I have nothing,’ Jo said. ‘You saw it – you know.’
‘I’m sure it felt like that,’ Hattie said, ‘but if you’ll let us, we can show you that it’s simply not true.’
Chapter Thirty
The bunting was wonky.
‘If you want something doing, do it yourself,’ Hattie sighed as she adjusted it.
‘There was nothing wrong with that,’ Jo said as she walked past with another armful. ‘And it will still look ridiculous whatever you do with it. People are coming to see a farm, not a carnival.’
Hattie smiled as she watched her walk away. Some things would never change, no matter how much counselling, no matter how many nights you spent talking until your voice was hoarse.
The winter had been long and slow and sometimes very dark, and there were many days when Hattie wished she’d got on that plane and gone to Paris, as she’d planned. But she stuck it out because, finally, she had found the thing she’d been looking for her whole life, the thing that mattered. She had found Jo and Sweet Briar Farm and this time she was going to get it right.
She’d also found Seth.
His hands closed over her eyes now. His scent was unmistakable.
‘Guess who.’
She peeled them away and turned to look up at him.
‘Lance wants to know if there’s enough canapés,’ he said with a grin.
Hattie rolled her eyes. ‘I told him there was enough before he went dashing off to get more.’
‘You know Lance. There ain’t no party like a Lance Holt party.’
Hattie giggled. ‘You say you were cool in the nineties but I know you weren’t.’
‘No kids were cool in the nineties; that’s why.’
‘I wasn’t even around in the nineties,’ Hattie said. ‘Well, maybe just.’
‘Don’t remind me of how much older I am,’ Seth said. ‘It’s just not fair.’
‘Go and tell Lance that the food he’s brought up will be just fine. I’m not even sure we’ll get the numbers the Facebook event has shown – people sign up to this stuff and they don’t come. If they do…’ She shrugged. ‘It’s free food anyway so they can hardly complain if we run out. It’ll be first come first served and they’ll have to lump it.’
‘Ouch – you’ve got tough over the winter.’
‘Somebody has to manage this place.’
He smiled. ‘Jo’s lucky to have you; making you site manager was the best thing she could have done.’
‘I know,’ Hattie said with a grin. ‘Things are a lot calmer now she can finally accept help and she’s not trying to control everything herself all the time.’
He left her with a kiss and a warm feeling in her chest and went to find Lance. Hattie took a moment to look around. Even though they’d had little money to do anything much to the exterior of Sweet Briar farmhouse, it somehow looked brighter and more welcoming in the spring sun than it ever had during all the months Hattie had lived here. Perhaps because today was a celebration of all that they’d overcome and all that they hoped to achieve. Perhaps the prospect of a brighter future lent today a brighter hue.
There were lines of candy-coloured bunting around the courtyard and Lance and Mark had set up a small refreshment tent stocked with homemade goodies from the Willow Tree. Seth and Hattie’s dad had extended the courtyard between them to create a run from there to the stables, and the donkeys had been given outdoor stalls as well as indoor ones so that the visitors could come and meet them today more easily. When the visitor aspect of the farm was up and running properly, they could let people walk up to the top field where they could meet the residents of Sweet Briar Sanctuary and also enjoy the cliff-top views. Hattie planned to set up picnic tables there – Jo hadn’t been overjoyed by the idea and she was still suspicious of visitors’ intentions, but when Hattie had enlisted the help of her dad and promised that when the field was open to the public, he’d be stationed up there to keep an eye on things, she relented. It would only be a few days a week and Nigel seemed happy to oblige. Like Hattie’s mum had said, he was bored and driving her mad at home anyway, so she’d be glad to see him keeping busy.
Next to the refreshment stall, Rupert was setting up a tombola to raise some funds for the sanctuary’s upkeep. Hattie watched as Phyllis came out of the tent with a cup and a slice of cake on a plate and gave them to him. He looked up at her and winked, and she giggled like a dizzy girl.
Were they flirting?
Hattie grinned. Good for them if they were – the whole village had been trying to persuade them for years that they were made for each other.
‘Boo!’
Hattie spun around to see Melinda, Stu and the kids behind her. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Good,’ Hattie said. ‘No major disasters yet. I wasn’t sure you’d make it.’
‘Not witness my best friend’s finest hour? Try and stop me.’
‘I know, but I thought you might have your hands full.’
‘Oh, this one…’ Melinda smiled down at the tiny baby in her arms. ‘Sleeps like a dream. You could have an orchestra doing the 1812 symphony, cannons and all, and he’d sleep through it like a… well, like a baby.’
‘What’s this one called again?’
They turned to see Jo looking at the baby, this time arms empty of bunting. If she’d finished putting it up she’d done it very quickly, and Hattie made a mental note to go round and check what it looked like.
‘Dustbin or something, is it?’ Jo continued.
Melinda scowled but Hattie laughed. ‘She’s winding you up.’
Jo went over to take a closer look at Melinda’s newest arrival. ‘You should have called him cute.’
‘We haven’t called him anything yet,’ Stu said. ‘We’d better do it soon, though because he has to be registered.’
‘Why haven’t you named him yet?’ Jo asked. ‘Can’t be that hard to think of a name.’
‘It’s not hard to think of a name but hard to agree on one,’ Melinda said.
‘I wanted Nathan,’ Stu said.
‘But that doesn’t go with the others at all,’ Melinda scolded. ‘It’s far too normal.’
‘That’s because you got your way with all the others,’ Stu pouted.
‘But you get to a certain point where you have to stick with it because anything else will sound lame. You can’t go and give
one of them a normal name.’
‘We should have given them all normal names.’
‘Then you shouldn’t have let me have Sunshine in the first place.’
‘Yeah, well, I felt sorry for you after I’d watched you give birth.’
Hattie raised her eyebrows at Melinda. ‘Any ideas at all on this one?’
‘I was thinking Thor,’ Melinda said. ‘Like thunder but cooler.’
‘Makes him sound like a Viking,’ Jo said. ‘I like it.’
Without waiting for anyone’s verdict on her comment, Jo wandered off.
Ocean tugged on Hattie’s hand. ‘Can we see the donkeys?’
‘Seth and Jo are supposed to be putting them in their enclosures any time now,’ Hattie said. ‘Maybe you and your dad and sisters want to go and help him?’
Ocean nodded eagerly and Melinda smiled her agreement. They watched as Stu led them away to follow where Jo had just gone. Just then, baby-possibly-called-Thor started to grizzle.
‘I knew he’d do this,’ Melinda said. ‘I bet he wants a feed. I tried to get him to take extra this morning so he’d last but he didn’t want to know.’
‘You can use my bedroom if you need to – shouldn’t be disturbed there. The house will be unlocked until the visitors start to arrive so come and go as you please until then.’
‘Thanks,’ Melinda said, kissing her on the cheek before she left, her baby now starting to sound quite cranky.
Hattie watched Melinda go into the house. But then she noticed Lance standing at the entrance to the tent. He beckoned her over.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Owen called – he says to send his apologies that he couldn’t come and cover your grand opening.’
‘I didn’t think he’d be able to anyway,’ Hattie said. ‘But thanks for trying.’
‘If you ask me he’s too chicken to face you.’ Lance folded his arms tight across his chest. ‘And I’d get him to come anyway because he owes you big time.’
‘I wouldn’t blame him for that but if he thinks I still have bad feelings about what’s happened then you can tell him that I don’t.’
Hattie's Home for Broken Hearts: A heartwarming laugh out loud romantic comedy Page 27
