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Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry
Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry
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Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

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‘You are very welcome. She’s a good kid.’

‘Thanks. I think so too.’ She gave a happy sigh. ‘Sorry, but I’d really better go on in now and help Mum.’

‘Yeah, I ought to get away too.’

Rachel hovered – this moment felt too precious to leave. Just one more brief kiss on the lips, a few more seconds together … Rachel moved back towards the scent of his aftershave, feeling the slight scratch of his beard where it was growing in, and meeting the soft fullness of his lips. She lingered there for a few more glorious seconds. Right, she really had better go now, or Maisy and Jill would be at the Pantry door wondering what was holding them up.

‘Bye,’ said Rachel, as she reluctantly pulled away, her voice a little husky.

‘See you soon.’

‘Yeah. See you.’

She stood and waved, watching his pickup drive off down the track. He gave a chirpy toot on the horn. She’d never felt like this before about a man and it was so good – but she couldn’t deny that frightened her too. She knew just how vulnerable life and relationships could be. Yes, she knew that very well.

7 (#ulink_bc43068b-0720-56c3-a04c-eb75719ba26a)

Sunday had been yet another quiet day at the Pantry. Rachel was still at a loss as to how to get more customers over the threshold. Frosty mornings and November chills would soon be on their doorstep, and though December should bring some welcome pre-Christmas trade, it was likely that the next few weeks would remain slow. And, with that, the farm’s bank balance was on a very slippery slope.

The next day at four thirty on the dot, Rachel was standing outside the Kirkton First School gates, her breath misting in the chill air. With a burst of heavy wooden doors, and a blast of chatter, out came the little ones in a rush across the playground, still wearing their gym gear with their coats mostly half-mast over the top.

Suddenly, there was Maisy, with a bounce of blonde curls, dashing forward and waving. ‘Aw, that was so good, Mummy. I love Gym Club. We did tumbles with music today.’

‘It was fun,’ added Amelia, who was close on Maisy’s heels, with a sunny grin. Rachel was collecting the two of them today.

This was their second week attending, and they were so happy with their new after-school club activity. The idea of going to a club seemed different than classroom work somehow. It was sociable, and fun, yet they were still learning.

A club … Something about that was starting to oil the cogs in Rachel’s mind. What was it that was nagging at her?

‘Wowser, I’ve got it!’ she blurted out.

‘What have you got, Mummy?’ Maisy looked at her quizzically.

‘A club. We need a Pudding Club!’ Oh yes, something to draw people out to the Pantry on those dull autumn and winter nights. Cosy puddings, in a cosy barn … They’d just invested the last of the summer earnings on installing that log-burning stove; it would be perfect in there on a chilly winter’s evening.

‘But we don’t make puddings at school, Mummy.’ Maisy had her hands on her hips and was frowning.

‘Not at school, petal. At our farm … in the Pudding Pantry.’

‘Oh, a club for making puddings? But doesn’t Grandma Jill do the making bit?’ Maisy looked nonplussed.

‘Yes, but other people could come along and eat puddings, and maybe learn how to make puddings, have a chat, make new friends, share recipes over a cup of tea.’ The ideas were flowing already.

‘Could they have cupcakes?’ Maisy grinned, catching on to the idea.

‘Yes, sometimes, why not? We could have Cupcake Week, Crumble Week, all sorts.’ Rachel’s mind was firing now.

‘Ooh, that sounds nice,’ said Amelia.

‘Can I come?’ Maisy was starting to warm to the suggestion.

‘Oh, well, I think it’ll most likely be in the evening, petal.’ Rachel imagined an evening might work better as the club would need to be something different from their usual tearoom opening hours. ‘So, it would be past your bedtime. But maybe you could come along to the first one, and then we’ll see.’

‘Okay.’

‘Could my mummy come?’ Amelia asked.

‘Yes, of course, if she wanted to. I’ll need to speak with Grandma Jill and see what she thinks about the club thing first, but yes I’ll let your mummy know all about it if we decide to go ahead.’

They were back at the Land Rover now, the girls clambering in to the passenger side, ready to be belted up. Moss nudged a damp black nose over from the back to welcome them.

Maisy patted his soft furry head. ‘Hi, Mossy.’

Driving along the country roads, the girls chatted between themselves as Rachel’s mind whirred with this new Pudding Club idea. She couldn’t wait to discuss it with Jill. They were soon pulling up outside Amelia’s pretty stone cottage, just up the lane from Primrose Farm.

Eve came out to thank her friend for collecting the girls, just as Rachel was helping Amelia down from the Jeep.

‘Hey, sweetie pie.’

‘Hi, Mummy.’

Eve took Amelia by the hand, as her little girl announced, ‘Mummy, Rachel’s making a Pudding Club.’

‘Ooh, that sounds fun.’ Eve looked at Rachel, her brow quirked with interest.

‘You can go too, if you want,’ Amelia continued.

‘Still in the planning stage,’ Rachel explained. ‘Need to broach it with Mum, yet. So, I’ll tell you all about it soon. It was the girls here who gave me a brainwave.’

‘Good, good. Well, maybe we can catch up over a cup of coffee sometime. Seems ages since we’ve done that.’

‘That sounds good. And yeah, I’ve been a bit snowed under lately. The farm, the pressures with the Pudding Pantry …’

‘No worries, hun, I know life’s fraught at the moment. Same here, we can’t catch our breath, can we? But how’s the delicious Tom anyway?’ Eve asked with a cheeky twinkle in her eye. Eve had had a little crush on Tom for some time now, which she didn’t try to hide. It was just a source of light-hearted banter, and she was happily married to Ben after all, so Rachel was happy to go along with the joke.

‘He’s fine, thank you. Very good in fact.’

‘Not too good, I hope,’ Eve added with a cheeky grin.

‘Hah, I’m saying no more.’

‘Well, thanks for fetching Amelia. My turn next week. And let me know when you can drop by, I’ll make sure there’s some fresh brownies made.’

‘Perfect. Oh, and keep the night of Fifth November free. Me and Mum are planning a small fireworks party at the farm. Just something low-key.’

‘Sounds good. We don’t have any plans for Bonfire Night, so that’d be great. Thanks, hun. Catch you later, then.’

‘Cheers, Eve. Bye!’

‘Bye, Eve. Bye, Melia,’ chanted Maisy, happily waving from her seat in the Land Rover.

Back at the farmhouse kitchen they were greeted by the warming smells of minced beef and onions. Jill was standing at the Aga, cooking supper.

‘Hi Mum, we’re home. How was this afternoon?’ Rachel asked. She’d been out and about on the farm for several hours, checking fences once more along with their farmhand, Simon, so hadn’t had chance to look in on Jill before leaving to fetch the girls. ‘Did it get any busier?’

‘Not a great deal. There was a family and then a couple in. The family were staying in a holiday cottage up the valley, they were nice and chatty. The others were on a day trip from Alnwick for a change of scenery, had some tea and shared a scone between them. Oh, and Brenda from the Deli called, they’ve sold six puddings this week, so I need to top up the Sticky Toffee supplies there, so that was a bit of good news.’

A bit of positive news, yes, Rachel mused, and a step in the right direction, but it wasn’t exactly going to cover the mounting bills.

‘Grandma, Grandma! Mummy wants to make a Pudding Club,’ Maisy blurted out. News certainly travelled fast when five-year-olds got to know it! And though Rachel was excited about the idea, she had intended to broach the matter a little later on when she and Jill were on their own and would have the chance to chat it over properly.

‘Well, that’s the cat out of the bag. Thanks, Maisy.’ Never tell a child anything you didn’t want shared! ‘Well, it’s just a thought I’ve had, we can talk about it over supper, maybe.’

‘A Pudding Club? Hmm, sounds like it might be quite fun. Something like a cooking class, do you mean?’ Rachel was pleased that she’d got Jill’s attention.

‘Maybe, but nothing as formal as that. We could have puddings to taste, share baking tips, a chance to chat and relax with a cuppa … maybe themed nights, even.’

‘Okay, but it might be a lot of work. We’ll have to think on it, won’t we?’ Jill didn’t sound totally sold on the idea yet.

Oh dear, did it feel to Jill like Rachel was loading more work on to her? She hadn’t thought of that.

‘Look, I know it’s a big ask, and we can chat some more about it in a while. I still need to pop out and do my last checks around the farm.’

‘Okay, pet.’ Jill lifted a large casserole pot out of the Aga, resting it on the top as she popped in eight round balls of herby dumplings. ‘Supper will be ready in about twenty minutes.’

‘That’s great.’ After baking and looking after the Pantry all day, here was Jill still cooking and caring for her family. Rachel didn’t take her for granted, but maybe she needed to show her gratitude a little more often. ‘And thanks, Mum. You look after us all so well.’

‘Isn’t that what mums are for, love?’

‘Well, some are better at it than others, I’m sure … and you’re up there with the best.’

Jill beamed.

‘Maisy, do you want to come on out with me?’ Rachel asked.

It was already getting dark outside, and the kitchen was a cosy haven. Maisy had her school coat and shoes off and was stroking Moss, who’d sneaked up and joined her on the chair beside the Aga. ‘I’ll stay with Grandma.’

‘Okay, I won’t be long.’

Rachel couldn’t wait to get the last farm chores done and get back in herself, but she could never rest easy if she hadn’t seen for herself that the farm animals were all fine and settled for the night.

Up at the Top Field Rachel’s mobile buzzed into life. She stopped the quad.

‘Hi, Rach.’ It was Tom.

‘Oh hi, you okay?’

‘Yep. Look, when do I get to see you again? It was great in the woods at the weekend with Maisy, but I’d love some time just for us too. Can you make tonight? The other evening was pretty special.’

‘Yes, it was really lovely.’ Her mind wandered back to that sensual night by the fireside at Tom’s house. But she’d already promised to go back tonight and chat further with Mum about the Pudding Club idea; they couldn’t afford to rest on their laurels with the Pudding Pantry. It had needed energy and a huge commitment to get this business off the ground, and would need even more to make it a success.

‘Oh, Tom, much as I’d love to, I can’t see you tonight, sorry.’

‘Tomorrow?’ He wasn’t one to give up easily.

The following night was set aside for the mammoth pile of farming paperwork she hadn’t managed to get around to today.

‘Umm, look, I’ll see you at your elevenses.’

‘Is that it? I can’t make love to you over a bacon sandwich in the middle of the Pudding Pantry.’

Rachel couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Oh, why on earth not?’ She was trying to keep her tone deadpan.

‘For a start, Frank’s false teeth might fall out with the shock, and I don’t think your mother would approve.’

‘Hah, maybe not.’

‘I’m serious though, Rach.’ His voice softened, sounding so earnest. ‘I’d love to see you again soon.’

God, she wanted to see him, to be with him, too, not be stuck under a pile of paperwork, but that wasn’t going to keep the farm afloat. Her life seemed to be a never-ending To Do list right now. It was no wonder it was hard to find time to be together. She wasn’t young, free and single, like other girls her age might be. Well, she might still be young – twenty-four was hardly ancient – but she was a mother, and tied to a farm and a business. Would Tom prefer a no-strings-attached kind of girl, where every night could be date night? That thought made her feel uneasy.

‘Just give me a day or two to get things straight, okay, and then I’ll try and free up an evening. I’ll see if Mum’s all right to look after Maisy, or maybe Eve will step in. We could go out for a drink or something. Or just stay in?’

‘All right, I suppose I’ll just have to wait. And don’t forget our rendezvous at elevenses,’ he added more chirpily.

‘How could I?’

‘See you then’.

‘Bye.’ She turned off the mobile, and found herself smiling. Amid all the To Dos, the chores, paperwork and bills, Tom Watson was a warm beacon of light. She just prayed he’d manage to stay aglow for her.

‘So, come on, tell me more about this Pudding Club idea, then?’ Jill asked, as the three of them were sat around the kitchen table with plates loaded with mince, dumplings, carrots and cabbage, fresh from their vegetable patch.

‘Okay, so I’m thinking that the Pudding Pantry is already a lovely cosy place to meet up. So, the Pudding Club will have to be a bit different. A chance to come in, make new friends, and learn something. It’ll be about all things pudding and baking, with ideas and recipes, and tastings … Ooh yes, we’ll have to have a little taster of something delicious from the Pantry to try.’

‘We can taste cupcakes!’ came Maisy’s suggestion with a big grin.

‘Hmm, it does sound interesting. So, do we charge for customers to come in? How would it work? We’d have to cover our costs and make a little bit extra ourselves, to make it worthwhile.’

‘Of course, we’ll have to think about the price. And we’d need to decide on a theme for each week or fortnight, or however often we decide to hold it.’

‘Weekly might prove a bit hard to come up with enough rolling ideas, but twice a month might work well,’ Jill pondered.

‘So, fortnightly then,’ Rachel continued, ‘with a pudding to taste – something that fits with that session’s theme. It’d be great to have a festive one in the lead-up to Christmas, and maybe a recipe to hand out and chat about.’

‘Oh well, we can’t be giving away all the Baking Bible secrets, you know.’ Jill looked rather affronted.

‘I know, but just one example, or a twist on one of your classics. Look, say it was Crumble Night or something, then the group could chat about favourite crumble recipes and flavours. We’d have one or two to taste, and of course,’ Rachel gave a little wink, ‘some more ready to buy to take away at the counter.’ Rachel’s business mind was firing up now.