She gave Maisy a goodnight kiss and tucked her in.
‘I’m so looking forward to the beach tomorrow, Mummy.’
‘Yeah, it should be good. Night, petal.’
‘Night, Mummy. Night, Daddy.’ And she smiled sleepily, as though she’d been longing to say those words together for a long, long time, before nestling down into her pillows.
‘She’s a good kid,’ Jake said as they closed her bedroom door.
‘Yeah, she is.’ Rachel felt a little glow of pride.
When they reached the kitchen, Jake thanked them both for a lovely evening and then excused himself, saying it was time he headed back to his B & B. ‘Well,’ he confessed, ‘perhaps via a quick pint at the Black Bull.’ He gave a wink.
Rachel went to see him out at the doorstep. It was ten to eight by then and she was aware of the time ticking away.
‘Night, Jake.’
‘See ya, Rach.’ He faced her with a grin. ‘We’ll have a good day tomorrow.’
And suddenly it reminded her of years gone by, when they were both so young. Jake with his killer smile, always a bit of a charmer, a jack-the-lad. But hey, she well knew where that had got her. And though she would never for the world wish that she hadn’t had Maisy, she also knew how hard life had been as a young single parent, even with her mum and dad’s support. He might be trying harder this time with Maisy, but Jake still had a million miles to go.
21
EVE
Eve felt a frisson of anticipation as she slicked some red gloss over her lips.
She had perhaps neglected herself somewhat of late, she realised, as she looked at the shinier person staring back at her from the bedroom mirror – throwing on a pair of black leggings and some kind of Breton or floral top as a matter of course each morning (sometimes even the very same top as the day before). Other than a quick brush of her curly brown hair, which often had a life of its own, and a morning swipe of mascara, her make-up routine was pretty nonexistent. Except for the last two craft fair events, she confessed to herself, where rather a lot of personal care and attention had come into play.
She slipped a dress on – a vintage-style tea dress, with a delicate red rose pattern. A dress she usually kept for going out … but she and Ben hadn’t been out for such a long time, the frock had hung neglected in the wardrobe.
Yes, it was about time she made the effort for her husband. It was no wonder she felt rather invisible to him at home, she was somewhat invisible even to herself. The cook, the cleaner, the carer, the mum … where had the glamorous, carefree young Eve gone?
A sudden memory flashed up, of her and Ben dancing in the kitchen. Oh my, it’d be several years ago now, Amelia just a baby tucked up in her cot upstairs. And a song, their song – Ed Sheeran’s ‘Thinking Out Loud’ – coming on to the radio. They were halfway down a bottle of wine, and he’d taken her hand and they’d swayed gently together. A spontaneous joyful moment to treasure. Could they ever get those moments back? Make new ones?
She hoped this evening would be one step in the right direction. She glanced at her wristwatch; five twenty. Ben should be home in about fifteen minutes. He usually got away by five thirty, when the garage closed, and it was only a short drive home.
She suddenly felt excited. They could turn things around. She still thought the world of Ben really, but they had become more like buddies – admittedly slightly grumpy buddies of late – than lovers.
She ventured down the stairs. Supper was already warming in the oven. Lasagne, one of his favourites.
‘Oh, Mummy, you look nice.’ Amelia, who was playing with her dolls in the living room, looked up and gave her a big smile.
‘Aw, thank you so much, sweetie.’ It was lovely for Amelia to notice but, gosh, did she really look so different to usual? She supposed that confirmed how much she’d let things slip.
Eve headed for the kitchen, thinking that they might eat al fresco in the garden for a change. The wind was low and it was still warm out there as she stood on the back step gauging the weather. Yes, they might even have a glass of wine as a treat and just chill together outside looking over the valley, after Amelia went to bed. She’d picked up a bottle of rosé and a couple of beers at the Co-op shop this afternoon, and had pointedly tidied all her craft-making stuff away for the night.
The sound of an engine slowing to a halt brought her back to the here and now.
‘Daddy’s here!’ called Amelia excitedly, and Eve’s heart did a little flip. She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened for Ben.
‘Hi, Daddy.’ Amelia was there at the front door in a rush. Eve lingered behind her in the hallway, feeling strangely shy.
‘Hi, guys.’ He picked up Amelia for a hug, and moved to file past Eve, brushing the briefest of kisses on her perfumed cheek. ‘Ah, what a day. Never stopped, I’m knackered. We had a breakdown in on top of the services we already had booked. Then, just at the last moment, some old guy rolled in with a puncture; well, we couldn’t let him down, but really, at five to five on a Friday …’
He strode past Eve and headed to the kitchen to fill a glass of water.
‘Hey Ben, I’ve made—’
‘Just gonna shower,’ he cut in, draining his glass.
‘Oh okay,’ she whispered, lingering a little awkwardly by the entrance to the kitchen.
He didn’t seem to have noticed her dress, her lipstick, her hair … but maybe he was still in his after-work autopilot mode. Eve decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps after his shower as she passed him his cold beer … then he’d really see her.
‘I thought we might eat out in the garden,’ she ventured, as he popped his empty glass down on the side, ready to head upstairs to the bathroom. ‘We could have some nice chilled time, just you and me …’
‘Ah, right. Better be quick though.’
‘Oh … why?’
Ben was opposite her now. She suddenly felt horribly self-conscious in her get-up, the lipstick and jewellery. Had he not noticed any change?
‘It’s darts tonight. The Black Bull team are one short. I said I’d fill in. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘Oh …’
‘I’ll be heading off soon after my shower.’
And that was it. Her heart plummeted faster than a stone. All her anticipation and excitement landed in a heap around her kitten-heeled ankles.
22
Rachel rapped on the side door to Tom’s kitchen and walked on in. Tom was there at the stove, looking slightly harassed yet very handsome, in dark jeans and a navy shirt worn open at the neck.
‘Sorry I’m late. It’s just been one of those days,’ she explained, as she walked across to greet him.
He was stirring a creamy-looking sauce. ‘It’s okay, you’re here now and that’s all that matters.’
Aw, that was sweet of him. ‘Yeah, it’s been a bit of a crazy afternoon, what with Jake arriving out of the blue and–’ she almost let the cat out of the bag and said ‘staying for tea’ – ‘and everything.’
‘Oh, right, yeah, of course.’
Rachel moved in to kiss him on the cheek. He turned towards her, holding the wooden spoon in the air, smelling rather deliciously of aftershave and cooking aromas. ‘So, are you hungry?’ he grinned.
‘Yep! Can’t wait to tuck in.’ Rachel put on her cheeriest voice.
‘Great, as I’ve gone all out and cooked three courses. I know I’ve been a bit of a grump and I want to make it up to you.’
‘Brilliant.’ Oh my God.
‘So, pour yourself a glass of wine, relax and take a seat. There’s a bottle of red already open on the island unit – I used some in the mushroom starter I’ve made.’
A glass of wine was probably just what she needed right now, but definitely not a full three-course dinner. She sat and sipped the mellow red, chatting away, whilst Tom got the starter plates ready with rocket and toasted ciabatta, then spooned over some garlicky mushrooms (very impressive).
‘O
kay, we’ll go and eat in the dining room. I’ve got it all set up ready.’ He looked pleased with himself.
‘Ooh, sounds very nice.’ Rachel felt suddenly anxious.
They hadn’t ever eaten in the dining room. Usually, if Tom cooked, it was a more casual affair at the kitchen island. When Rachel walked into the room, she realised just how much effort Tom had put into this meal. There was a white tablecloth set out on the table, with soft lighting and tealights glowing in two pretty glass holders. He’d even put some flowers in a vase; white roses that she recognised from his garden. And, there was another bottle of wine, a white, in a cooler. She’d have to ditch the Land Rover at this rate and come back and fetch it in the morning.
‘It looks gorgeous in here. Like a restaurant. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. I just wanted to make tonight special for you.’ He placed her starter before her. ‘Mushrooms à la Tom. I kind of made it up.’
‘Well, they look delicious.’ Rachel made a start, digging her fork in. ‘Thanks for going to all this effort.’ The mushrooms were so tasty they went down well, luckily.
The conversation was light and easy for a while. They chatted about the farms, then Maisy, with Rachel briefly mentioning Jake’s arrival, without going into too much detail.
‘So, have you heard any more about the court hearing? Or thought about how you are going to approach it?’ She wanted Tom to know he could talk about what was going on with Caitlin and that he had her full support.
‘Well, I’ve had advice from my solicitor, and obviously we are going to contest. He’s got all the details on the original claim, as I’m using the same law firm. We can show how much was paid and how that came to be decided in the first place. But … if Caitlin’s claim’s agreed, then I will have to sell off some land, it’s the only thing for it. And if it doesn’t sell quickly, then I’ll have to get a loan.’
‘That sucks, Tom … it’s not as though she even helped work on the farm or added to its income in any way. It’s been years now, too.’
‘I know … but I need to be prepared for the worst. And even if it does go my way, the solicitor’s fees in themselves will be pretty stiff.’
‘It just seems all wrong.’
‘Yeah, I can really do without all the hassle and the financial implications right now. But it is what it is, and I’m just going to have to face it.’
‘I can come down with you on the day, Tom. Go to the court in Newcastle with you,’ Rachel offered, willing to share some of the load, to try and support him however she could.
‘No need. Honestly, thanks, but I’d rather just deal with this on my own. There’s no point dragging you into it all. And, the hearing is due the week before our wedding … you should be out with Eve and your mates drinking prosecco and getting ready for the celebrations.’
‘I wouldn’t mind going if you needed me, or if you just wanted someone to have a strong coffee with afterwards.’ She placed her hand over his. She wanted to get back to that feeling of being a team.
‘Thanks, but I’ve got this.’
‘Okay.’ He seemed determined to sit this one out alone.
‘On the glorious subject of our exes, how is good old Jake?’
‘All right. Turns up like a bad penny, doesn’t he?’ she added wryly. ‘At least he seems keen to spend some time with Maisy, which is nice for her. He even stayed and read her bedtime story.’
Tom raised an eyebrow at that, it being suddenly apparent that Jake had been at Primrose Farm for quite some time today. ‘Well,’ he conceded, ‘I suppose it’s good he’s finally making the effort.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought. And Maisy was thrilled to see him. You should have seen her face when she got off the school bus and realised who it was.’
‘Yes, I bet. Let’s hope he doesn’t let her down again though.’ Tom’s tone was cautious, protective.
‘Yeah, it’s always hit and miss with Jake, isn’t it? But hey, he’s here now and she seems happy enough. These mushrooms are delightful by the way.’ Rachel was keen to move off subject. ‘I think I need the “recipe à la Tom”.’ She smiled.
‘It may well be a guarded secret … or more that I can’t quite remember what I threw into the sauce!’
They laughed. Despite her misgivings, Rachel was beginning to feel a sense of her future. It could be good cooking here together, eating together. Having Maisy here at the farmhouse too – maybe they’d start to feel like a real family at last.
A third of the way through the creamy chicken pasta dish that Tom had cooked for the main course, Rachel found herself struggling. It seemed like a never-ending pile of tagliatelle, and the sauce was so rich.
‘Just nipping to the loo,’ she excused herself, and sat there on the throne for a couple of minutes, trying to let the food go down a bit. It felt as though it was still jammed somewhere up in her oesophagus, that her stomach was so full it had nowhere to go! She realised she couldn’t be too long or it’d seem odd, so she flushed, washed her hands, and headed back to the dining room, smiling.
She managed two more mouthfuls before she began to feel awfully sick.
‘Are you feeling all right, Rach?’ Tom was staring across the table at her.
She must have gone a bit green.
‘Yeah …’ she floundered. Oh crikey, there was no point carrying on the lie, or pretending she was ill. Wasn’t their relationship meant to be based on honesty from now on? There was no way she could stomach another mouthful. ‘I’m so sorry, Tom, I should have told you earlier … but you’d gone to so much trouble. And it was my fault forgetting …’
‘Forgetting what?’
‘That you were cooking tonight. I’ve already eaten back at home. I got caught up with Jake arriving so suddenly … and then Mum offered him tea and Maisy wanted him to stay …’ It was sounding all wrong, she knew.
‘You had tea with Jake? Wow. He’s really got his feet under the table already, hasn’t he?’ He sounded truly irked. ‘I thought you couldn’t stand the guy, Rachel?’
‘I can’t. Not personally. He’s been a right twat over the years. But it’s not just about me, is it … whether I like him or not, he’s still Maisy’s dad. And he’s come up to see her, to spend time with her, and I need to support that.’
‘But you don’t need to sit having cosy suppers with him … not least when you were meant to be bloody well here.’ The colour had risen in Tom’s face. ‘I … I … Jeez, Rachel, I’ve gone all out here, I don’t know what to say.’
‘I just forgot … I made a mistake. It was difficult with him turning up unexpectedly like that.’
‘Yeah, and you forgot about me. The man you’re marrying in a few weeks’ time.’ He paused, looking gutted. ‘Bloody hell, Rach. I wanted tonight to be special. A great lead-up to our wedding. To say sorry, for being a grump lately about all this court case stuff, and to show you how good it can be here, how I want to look after you … you and Maisy. I know you’re worried about leaving Primrose Farm, about bringing Maisy here too …’ He sat looking stunned. ‘It’s just disappointing, that’s all.’
‘It is special, Tom. It’s been lovely, and all the thought you’ve put into it, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry, Tom, don’t be mad …’
‘I even made a sticky toffee pudding for you. It took me back to sharing it with you in the lambing shed that day. I think that’s where it all started, where things changed for us …’ He sounded nostalgic.
‘Oh, Tom …’ Rachel remembered the moment well.
‘Look, maybe I can come back tomorrow and we can share some sticky toffee. How does that sound?’ Rachel was desperate to put things right between them, she hated all this rockiness, it wasn’t like them.
Tom managed a small smile, which made Rachel’s heart leap. Thank heavens.
‘What about lunchtime, then?’ Tom prompted, catching on with the idea. ‘Can you sneak off work for a half-hour perhaps?’
Ah … this was getting trickier. ‘Oh … I’v
e promised to take Maisy across to the beach … And we were going to tie in picking up the wedding favours at the chocolate shop. One less job to do before the big day.’
‘So, maybe I could come along too? The sticky toffee can wait till later.’ He arched an eyebrow suggestively.
‘Ah …’ She was digging herself in deeper now.
‘Hang on, isn’t Jake still about tomorrow? Where does he figure in all this then? Won’t he want to see Maisy?’
‘Yes, he does. Look, he’s coming along too,’ she admitted. No more hiding the truth. ‘Maisy wanted us both to go.’
‘Oh, so it’ll be sticky toffee with me, and what … 99 flake ice creams on the seafront with “Jakey”, will it?’
‘It’s not like that, Tom. Don’t be daft. There’s nothing at all between me and Jake but our little girl. Maisy has a hard enough time as it is, not having her dad around for most of the year. She just wanted one day – well, a few hours even – with both her mum and dad together.’
‘Well, don’t spoil your plans for me.’ Tom stood up to clear the plates, scooping up Rachel’s half-finished dish with a frown.
Mabel, the terrier, who’d been sat under the table, gave a little whimper; the tension was obviously palpable.
Rachel felt as though her world had gone topsy-turvy. Doing the right thing by Maisy felt like the wrong thing by Tom. But Maisy was, and always would be, her priority. Tom had to realise that, however much they loved each other.
‘Do you want me to go?’ Rachel asked in hushed tones, not really wanting to, but feeling the meal and the evening were pretty much ruined now. She was overwhelmed by so many emotions right then; she could feel the sting in her eyes. She hadn’t meant to hurt Tom tonight. She hadn’t meant to forget about him cooking for her … she could see why he’d been annoyed, of course, but this was about Maisy and her relationship with her dad too. Her mixed-up single family needed her fiancé’s support right now, and she wasn’t sure if they had it.
Summer at Rachel's Pudding Pantry Page 13