Summer at Rachel's Pudding Pantry

by Caroline Roberts

  Hmm, maybe she could call and see Tom later this evening, and pick up where they’d left off in the dunes …

  Heading back inland in Tom’s truck, Rachel gazed across at her fiancé. ‘Won’t it be great when we don’t have to keep saying goodbye, when we can go home together, just be together …’

  With their wedding in less than two months’ time, it would be a wonderful reality. Going home with Tom and Maisy, back to Primrose Farm.

  ‘Yeah,’ his smile was warm, genuine, ‘knowing that when I get back from a day out in the fields, or on the tractor, that you’ll be there, you and Maisy, back at my farmhouse.’

  At my farmhouse.

  Oh … did he imagine she and Maisy would be moving in there with him?

  Rachel had assumed he’d move in with them, there at Primrose Farm, and maybe put his farmhouse up for rent or something. Primrose was Maisy’s home; it was all her little girl had ever known. Dammit, it was all Rachel had ever known. It was where she’d grown up with Dad, Mum. It was home. She felt a wrench in her heart just thinking about leaving.

  ‘Ah … did you mean … you want us to move in with you?’ She tried to keep the tremble from her voice, reasoning with herself that it was only a mile down the road.

  ‘Well, yeah. I just thought … with your mum still living at the farm, you’d want to come over to mine, have some privacy. Our own space. Me, you and Maisy. I can do up the spare room for her, let her choose the colours and all that.’

  Rachel was still trying to process this. Her mouth an ‘o’ of surprise. Why the hell hadn’t they had this conversation before? She’d just assumed, very naively as it turned out, that they’d be staying put … but then apparently, so had he …

  ‘Well, you can still carry on looking after Primrose easily from there, and the Pantry and everything’s close by.’

  ‘Oh, but it’d mean moving Maisy … it might be unsettling for her.’

  ‘I’m sure she’d be fine, Rach, kids adapt. We needn’t all be crammed under one roof, and it makes sense for Jill to stay put; it’s her home and where she does the baking for the Pantry, after all.’

  Rachel opened her mouth to speak but found herself tongue-tied. For Tom it was obviously a done deal. Straightforward, in fact. But, as Rachel looked out of the truck window at the country lanes whizzing by, she was reeling.

  10

  Rachel had tossed and turned all night, her frazzled mind trying to get to grips with the prospect of living at Tom’s farm once they were married. Primrose Farm was everything to her, and as the only child she would naturally have taken the mantle as the next generation of working farmer. The farm was a place of stories passed down, of memories cherished. From Great-Grandad’s Aberdeen Angus prize bull, Macbeth, winning at the Kirkton Country Show, to Great-Aunt Iris’s oven-bottom muffins lurking unseen in the Aga for six weeks and turning into charcoal – she hadn’t inherited the baking gene, bless her – to Dad making a swing for Rachel out of a tractor tyre on the old apple tree … She knew that memories stayed with you wherever you went, they settled in hearts not bricks and mortar, but sometimes when she sat around the kitchen table at Primrose with her mum, it was like the walls were speaking to her. She could almost hear the voices of the generations gone by. It was her legacy. She knew, practically, she could run the farm fine from next door, but the idea seemed all wrong. Rachel feared she had been burying her head in the sand by not talking through their future living arrangements properly with Tom. But it felt just too painful for her to even contemplate leaving.

  She desperately needed a friendly ear, and she also wanted to catch up with Eve to find out how she was getting on at home. Eve’s own dilemma and confession on their weekend away was still fresh in Rachel’s mind, and she wanted to be there for her friend should she need it. Neither issue was a conversation they could have in earshot of anyone else, so Rachel was relieved to see only Eve’s car in the driveway of her cottage when she rolled up on the quad.

  She knocked on the white wooden door, and then opened it with a putting-a-brave-face-on-it, ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hi Rach, come on in. I’m in the dining room, covered in bunting.’

  Rachel popped her head around the door to see a table loaded with pretty bolts of materials, the sewing machine on the go, and just-made flags of soft pinks, patterned whites, florals, and spotted sage greens, laid out ready to string together. ‘Guess who these are for?’ she beamed. ‘I take it they are the right colours to match your bouquets and the tipi-tent flowers?’

  ‘Oh my, Eve, they are just gorgeous. But haven’t you got all your own orders to make up for your customers too?’

  ‘Yep, it’s okay, I’ve done some of them this morning, rose with the lark I did. But well, I just couldn’t resist. And, I did promise you more of these, so I’d have to make them soon enough anyhow. And, I figured if I put a few pics of these finished ones on my Etsy page, it might create interest in my new wedding range too.’

  The Craft Queen of Kirkton looked as though she was in her element.

  ‘Good thinking.’

  ‘Okay hun, well that’s another strand finished, so can I get you a coffee?’

  ‘I’d love one, thank you.’

  They vacated to the kitchen where Rachel took up a stool whilst Eve popped the kettle on. ‘So, how’s life at the farm then?’ Eve asked.

  The farm that Rachel might soon have to leave.

  Rachel couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ Eve was on it like a car bonnet. ‘Do we need cake?’

  ‘Definitely cake,’ Rachel raised a small smile.

  ‘No problem, there’s a couple of spare slices of lemon drizzle left that I made for Ben’s packed lunches this week. He’ll never know.’

  The cafetière was filled and the cake plated, a zing of lemon and sugar filling the galley kitchen. ‘So …?’

  ‘So, I’ve just found out … Tom wants us to live there. At his house. Me and Maisy … after the wedding.’ Rachel looked down at her hands around the coffee mug.

  ‘O-kay. And that’s a problem, I take it … so, what do you want?’

  ‘I just thought we’d all be at Primrose Farm, that he’d move in there with us.’

  ‘And you haven’t discussed this till now?’ Eve sounded surprised.

  ‘No … I suppose we both just imagined … Ah, shit, we were both thinking we’d stay. It’s a farming thing … you stay on your farm. But how the hell do two married farmers both stay on their own farms?’

  ‘Hmm, well one of you’s going to have to compromise. I assume you actually want to live together, sleep together … be a couple.’ Eve raised an eyebrow, ironically.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘And there’s Maisy to think of in all of this,’ added Rachel. ‘Surely, she’d be better off staying in her own home? It’ll be a big change for her as it is, what with getting used to Tom being around all the time.’

  ‘Yes, I can see that. But, what about for your mum …?’

  ‘Well, that was Tom’s point,’ Rachel conceded.

  ‘Might be a bit crowded at yours … and what about when you want to have mad passionate sex in the living room or something? I can see Tom’s point …’

  Great, now even Eve was siding with him.

  ‘Well, when was the last time you and Ben had mad passionate sex in the living room?’ Rachel couldn’t stop her mounting frustration.

  Eve’s face dropped.

  ‘Sorry hun, that was a bit tactless. I’d actually come to ask how you were doing too, you and Ben? Since you got back …’ Since the confession.

  ‘Ah, it’s been okay, I suppose. What’s weird is that nothing’s really changed here. Me and Ben, we’re just ticking along … same old, same old. It’s me, Rach … it’s me that’s changed.’

  Rachel sat listening, allowing Eve to open up, whilst studying her friend’s face that suddenly looked so sad.

  ‘Oh Rachel, I wis
h I could stop thinking about this guy, but I can’t. There’s no simple on–off switch with the way I’m feeling … and I don’t know what it all means. Have I fallen out of love with Ben, Rach? Is that it?’ Eve paused, taking a slow sip of coffee. ‘I don’t know what to think any more … and I just feel so damned sad … sad that it might really be over between us. Jeez, I’m all mixed up.’

  ‘Give it time, you’ll find a way back. I know Granny Ruth always says “marriages have to be worked at”. I had the lecture when we got engaged.’ Rachel raised a supportive smile.

  ‘Maybe you’re right,’ Eve sighed. ‘But is that it? Are me and Ben just going to shuffle along for the rest of our lives? We’re more like friends than lovers just now.’

  ‘Well, at least you’re friends, honey. That’s a real good place to come back from. You two have always been good together up till now.’

  ‘Really? Maybe from the outside looking in, but I feel we’ve been drifting apart for ages. I just didn’t see it happening. Too busy … with Amelia, with my craft business. How did it all change? And, why don’t we have bloody rampant sex on the living-room floor anymore?’

  ‘Probably ’cos it’s covered in your craft materials …’ Rachel tried to lighten the mood. ‘Now you wouldn’t want a pin cushion getting anywhere it shouldn’t.’

  Eve just shook her head, conceding a wry smile. ‘Oh, Rach, what happened to the time when Ben and I couldn’t keep our hands off each other?’

  ‘Oh petal, relationships change, life changes, but you can still work this out, you and Ben,’ Rachel reassured, though little alarm bells were ringing in her mind. Is this what happened … four, five, six years down the line? But no, up until Dad’s hidden depression, up until the end in fact, her parents had had a good marriage. It didn’t have to be that way. Rachel remembered so many happy times as she grew up. There was always a lot of love in that farmhouse.

  She took Eve’s hand in her own. ‘It’ll be okay, hun. We’ll work this out. I’m here for you too. Just don’t do anything stupid, hey? And try and keep some distance from this artist guy.’

  ‘That’s not so easy; there’s a craft event we’ll both be at in two weeks’ time.’

  ‘Ah, right … well just be polite, but that’s it. Keep yourself to yourself.’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose.’ Eve didn’t sound convinced.

  Another of Granny Ruth’s phrases filled Rachel’s mind: ‘Love and marriage, go together like a horse and carriage’. But unfortunately, it looked as though the wheel had fallen off this particular carriage for Ben and Eve right now. Rachel was determined to help them fix it.

  11

  As the end of the week rolled around, it spelled the revival of Pudding Club.

  Rachel found herself looking forward to these bi-monthly meet-ups at the Pudding Pantry. Her idea last winter to drum up extra custom by creating a regular evening event in the barn tearoom was still going strong. There was now a group of around twelve or thirteen ‘Clubbers’, most of them regulars and friends by now.

  They had a different theme each time, and tonight was ‘Dreamy Ice Cream’ – a special request from little Maisy who was always keen to get involved. They’d invited along Andrew, the owner of the local dairy that made its own ice cream, to give a talk, and here was the best part, a tasting session. He had mentioned there’d be a honeycomb ice cream, ginger, traditional vanilla and a choc-chip to sample. Rachel and Jill had also been busy making several puddings to pair with the delicious ice-cream flavours.

  Maisy had been allowed to stay up late to attend, even though it was a school night – well, she couldn’t miss her own theme night, could she now? She was excitedly helping Rachel set out the Pantry. Rachel and Jill had already moved two of the white wooden tables together to create a large space for the group to sit around.

  ‘We’ll need about fourteen chairs, I’d say,’ Rachel called out.

  Several members had already messaged to say they were coming, and often one or two extras turned up on the night.

  ‘Okay, Mummy.’ Chairs were scraped and bumped across the stone flags, but Rachel didn’t have the heart to stop her little helper.

  Rachel switched on the white fairy lights that were strung along the counter to give the barn that extra bit of sparkle, and refreshed the pretty posy milk jugs with fragrant sweet peas set at the centre of each table. The two girls then popped a spoon and fork, wrapped in a red-checked gingham napkin, at each place setting.

  ‘It looks really pretty.’ Maisy stood back with a smile, admiring their work.

  Rachel’s heart warmed watching her little girl.

  ‘It does indeed. Just perfect for an ice-cream and pudding night.’

  They clapped their hands together in a high five.

  It wasn’t long before Andrew from the dairy arrived with a cool box full of fabulous ice-cream booty.

  ‘Hi Andrew, great to see you again. Thank you so much for coming along tonight.’ Rachel shook hands warmly with him.

  It was always nice to see a fellow farmer in the area; their families had known each other for years now. And, they’d got to know each other even more last summer when Rachel was setting up supplies for the Pudding Pantry.

  ‘No worries. You’re most welcome.’

  ‘Can I help bring anything in?’ Rachel offered.

  ‘There’s another cool box in the back of the Jeep, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Yummy, ice cream. Hello Andrew,’ Maisy was beaming up at him.

  ‘Hey there, little Maisy. And, how are you?’

  ‘Good, thank you.’

  Rachel was pleased to hear that she was minding her manners.

  ‘Mummy says I can stay up late and eat ice cream!’ She grinned.

  ‘Well, that sounds a good plan for a Thursday night.’ He smiled back at her.

  Andrew was soon set up, with his samples at the ready, and some flyers to hand out about the dairy. Jill came back across from the farmhouse with a freshly baked sticky toffee pudding, warm from the oven. The evening was balmy, so the barn doors were open wide and welcoming. And, in no time at all, no doubt lured in by the gorgeous caramel smells and the thought of dreamy ice cream, the first Pudding Club attendees began to arrive.

  First was Frank, in his summer attire of beige slacks and pale blue shirt, closely followed by Kirsty and Hannah, who’d picked up new-to-the-village young mum, Alice, on their way. Hot on their heels were keen bakers, Pamela and Nigel, a middle-aged couple from the nearby town of Alnwick with two of their friends. Daniel arrived next, with a kiss on the cheek for Jill and a cheery hello to the group, followed by Christine and Eileen, keen members of the local Women’s Institute, along with friend and Pantry helper Jan. Brenda from the local deli came rolling in just in time for the seven o’clock start. And, last but not least, Eve crashed in all in a fluster.

  ‘Phew, sorry guys, I hadn’t realised the time, I was flat out putting the finishing touches to a soft toy hedgehog family for an Etsy order! Can’t wait for some delicious ice cream, though.’

  Wow, it certainly was a full house tonight.

  After teas and coffees were served, Andrew did a brief introduction to the group. ‘Hello everyone! I’m so pleased that you’ll be testing some of our wares this evening, and I’m very proud to announce that the dairy has just received a Gold award for “Northumberland Producer of the Year”!’

  At that the group all whooped and gave a hearty round of applause.

  The first tasting was Jill’s sticky toffee pudding served with the dairy’s honeycomb ice cream – what a delight! There were so many ‘Umms’ and ‘Ahhs’ and contented sighs, the room sounded as though it was filled with the buzz of happy bees. Next, they tried the dairy’s Eton Mess ice cream on its own. It really didn’t need any additions – being the creamiest ice cream with meringue pieces and crushed strawberries.

  ‘Delicious’, ‘Divine’, ‘Scrumptious’, ‘Summer in a dish’, were just some of the comments.

  Then there was J
ill’s rhubarb tart, paired with spiced ginger ice cream, followed by a melt-in-the mouth rich chocolate-chip ice cream to try.

  ‘What could be better,’ sighed Hannah, ‘than eating ice creams and puddings galore in a pretty country barn, with a view like that?’

  Indeed, the summer evening sun was casting a soft, golden glow over the verdant hills and valley around them. It was a moment to treasure. Friends, family, food and Primrose Farm. Rachel couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else, and a little grain of panic filled her once more at the thought of leaving, even if only to move in next door. She pushed the thought aside, realising that Andrew was now standing quietly at the head of the group, looking at her expectantly, with the ice-cream tasting coming to a close.

  ‘Well, that was brilliant.’ She stepped forward, assuming a bright tone, ‘Thank you so much for coming along, Andrew, and for telling us more about the dairy, and of course letting us taste these delightful flavours. I’m sure we’ll all be stocking up – there are cartons to buy, folks. And, I look forward to selling lots of your ice creams here at the Pantry in the future.’ She started to clap, which resulted in a thankful round of applause and lots of praise from the gathering. With Andrew on his way a short while later, the group chatted amongst themselves and had a top-up brew from the big red polka-dot teapot.

  ‘Now then, Rachel, how are all the wedding plans going?’ asked Alice. ‘And thank you so much for the invite; that was so kind of you.’

  ‘Oh, you’re welcome,’ replied Rachel. ‘We wanted everyone to come along from the Pudding Club as you’re all friends now.’

  ‘Aw, that’s so lovely,’ added Kirsty.

  ‘I can’t believe it’s less than two months away,’ said Charlotte.

  ‘Well, I now have a gorgeous wedding dress.’ She gave Eve a big grin.

  ‘Ooh, any details?’ ‘Tell us more …’

  ‘Nope, sorry. You’ll have to wait and see on that one.’ Rachel was determined to keep schtum.

  ‘Oh, the suspense,’ added Eileen, with a smile.