23
EVE
It was past midnight. Eve sat in the old, comfy armchair in her dining room, sewing a black-and-white felt waistcoat for a toy puffin. Once Ben had left for the pub darts and she’d settled Amelia to bed, she’d got her arts and crafts back out again. She’d needed something to keep her occupied and ease her frazzled mind after all that palaver, though she still felt extremely disgruntled. Her favourite Ed Sheeran album was playing on low, and she was trying to keep quiet, so as not to disturb Ben and Amelia who were sleeping upstairs. Mind you, from the low drone of Ben’s snoring reaching her from the bedroom above, it was highly unlikely, even with the volume up, that would happen. Yes, he’d come home, still oblivious to her dress and make-up, smelling of stale beer and saying that he was shattered and would have to ‘leave her to it’. So much for their romantic night; what a fool she felt.
It was the night before the Coastal Craft Fair in the village hall at Warkton-by-the-Sea and, seeing as her evening plans had been scuppered, she might as well ensure she had plenty of stock for her stall. It wasn’t as though Ben’s job as a mechanic brought in enough money to keep the family going. Eve’s income was important too; it helped with the bills and meant they could have the odd trip out or treat occasionally. And, Amelia seemed to be having a growth spurt right now, meaning new clothes and shoes were a must. This craft fair tomorrow should help boost the family funds.
Ben seemed to see her work as ‘just a hobby’ most of the time. Okay, so it might never turn into a booming business venture, but she was making a steady income, it fitted in with family life (generally) – the recent late nights had been the exception rather than the rule – and she was starting to get established, building her reputation for quality handmade crafts in the local area. Her husband didn’t seem to ‘get’ that, muttering just a few days ago that she ought to think about getting herself a ‘real’ job. She hated that he didn’t get it; this was her passion, but it was a viable job too, wasn’t it? What she really wanted to do was to try and make a business out of doing what she loved. She had a talent and it would be a shame to waste that; she’d had some lovely comments and reviews on her Etsy sales page, and the customers at the craft events were always mightily impressed.
Was Ben right? Should people like her – a normal country girl – dare to chase their dreams? Her confidence had dipped these past few years, but she needed to try at least. And what she really wanted was her husband to support her in that, to have a partner who cared enough to cherish her dreams too.
Oh well, if she had a successful day tomorrow, then maybe Ben might be a bit more understanding, realise why she’d had to stay up so late and appreciate all the effort she’d put in. Miracles might happen.
And … there was that familiar churn in her stomach. She took a look at her phone, just to see if there might be another message. But no, nothing today from Aiden. They’d be at the same event, in the same hall, just metres away from each other … for several hours. They’d surely get a chance to chat, catch up a bit. She was excited to see his new paintings – she loved his dramatic seascapes. He had such a talent. She looked once again at the picture hanging on her wall, his picture. She began to feel a little bit giddy, with that twist of anticipation in her gut. Had he been thinking of her lately, too? She remembered all too well the moment as they said goodbye in a near-empty hall at the last event. He’d held her gaze for a second or two too long, and then dipped his face towards her ever so slightly, as though about to kiss her, as his arm brushed her shoulder … Or so she had thought at the time, but maybe her imagination was in overdrive. Was there a spark there for him too? Best not to know …
But, if they could chat, just as friends, talk creatively, maybe inspire each other … could that be enough? It’d have to be. Because the thought of never seeing him again made her feel sick inside. Just friends it was, then. She could manage that … for all their sakes.
Putting the final touches to her work, she finished off stitching two little pockets onto the waistcoat, and fitted the item on the cute puffin toy. He looked good, ideal for a coastal craft stall. She then gave a slow sigh, followed by a yawn. Time for bed herself. Time to head up those slightly creaky cottage stairs, to her husband. Her eyes were tired and her fingers stiff from all the fine needlework.
She got to the bedroom door and looked at Ben sleeping soundly in the gloom, his chest rising and falling. She tried to imagine peeling off her clothes, kneeling on the bed and shaking him awake, planting a kiss on his lips. The thought quickly evaporated into the night as she turned off the landing light with a sigh.
Something Borrowed
Lavender Shortbread
Inspired by Eve’s Nanna, and the lavender that grows in Eve’s cottage garden
Ingredients
100g (3½oz) unsalted butter
2 tsp fresh, unsprayed, finely chopped lavender flowers (or use 1½ tsp ready-made culinary lavender)
50g (1¾oz) caster sugar
150g (5¼oz) plain flour (sifted)
Method
Line a large baking tray with baking paper.
Beat the softened butter with the caster sugar, then stir the lavender into this mixture. Sift the flour into the mix and bring together with a wooden spoon until it resembles breadcrumbs. Using floured hands, work the mixture together, and knead until smooth.
Chill the dough in a fridge for 15 minutes.
Preheat oven to 170°C/Fan 150°C/Gas mark 3. Roll the dough out to 5mm (¼in) thickness. Cut out the biscuits with a circle or heart-shaped cutter. Place onto the baking tray and sprinkle with a little extra caster sugar.
Bake for 15 to 20 minutes until pale golden-brown. Set aside to cool completely.
Fragrant and delightful, perfect with a cup of Earl Grey tea. Or, why not sandwich them together with fresh strawberries and whipped cream for a divinely different strawberry shortcake.
24
Walking down the hill from the little car park at Warkton, the view to the sea was stunning. Rachel wished she could get to the coast more. The harbour nestled at the bottom of a street, lined by characterful old stone cottages, with the open sea out beyond, today calmly glinting with silvers and golds, reflecting the azure blues and puffy clouds of this gorgeous summer day. ‘Flaming June’ was actually true for once, and the warm sun lit up the sea and sky with a little summer magic.
Maisy, eagle-eyed as ever, spotted the ice-cream van parked down by the harbour. ‘Daddy, can I have an ice cream, please?’
Jake gave a quick glance at Rachel, who had to smile at her daughter’s wily ways and gave a small nod.
‘Yeah, I think that sounds a great idea, Mais. We can take it down to the beach and go for a walk, and maybe make a sandcastle – that’s if we can find somewhere to buy a bucket and spade.’
‘I think there’s a little shop just down there,’ Maisy added sweetly. She’d remembered from the last time they came here, a whole year ago now.
‘Well, that’s us sorted then.’
They were now approaching ‘The Chocolate Shop by the Sea’, the chocolate business run by another local, Emma. They’d met and kept in touch since the Christmas Craft Fair at Claverham Castle. Rachel and Tom had ordered mini boxes of chocolates as wedding favours for their guests, one for each place setting.
‘Right, well this is me,’ she said. ‘I’ll let you two have some time together. So, shall I meet you back at the harbour in say an hour?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Then it might well be time for fish and chips.’
‘Yay!’ cheered Maisy, who was already enjoying her day, and looking forward to all the delights to come.
‘Sounds good to me,’ added Jake.
Rachel waved them off, and couldn’t help but stand and watch as the two of them made their way down to the harbour and the ice-cream van, Maisy placing her hand trustfully in his, the pair of them soon swinging their arms in tandem. It was nice to see her little girl happy.
Okay, time to step away and let them
have a bit of father–daughter time, she told herself. She opened the wooden door to the chocolate shop and the rich cocoa aromas hit her straight away. Emma was there serving a customer from a tray of gorgeous-smelling coffee and moist-looking brownies. She looked up, recognising Rachel immediately. ‘Hi, Rachel, won’t be a minute.’
‘There’s no rush.’ Rachel well knew what it was like to constantly multitask, running a small business with limited staff. She occupied herself by checking out all the mouth-watering delights at the counter. Oh yes, she could get a gift for Mum and Granny Ruth today, as a thank you for all their support in the build-up to the wedding. Oh, and something special for Eve too, for her wonderful, mind-bogglingly beautiful wedding dress, and her fabulous friendship.
Emma soon appeared at her side. ‘So, how’s it all going? Not long till the big day now. I bet you can’t wait.’
‘No, I know. It’s all pretty much organised, but it just seems a bit surreal still.’ She tried to hide any fears she was having on the fiancé front.
‘Hah, yes, I remember that feeling well. Me and Max, my other half, we got married in September last year. It was a wonderful day. I was really nervous on the run-up to it, though. It wasn’t a big do or anything, but I just wanted it to be right, you know.’
Rachel nodded, understanding that all too well. ‘Yes, that’s exactly how I feel.’
‘We held it at the hotel at the top of the road, with just a few friends and family. We were lucky with the weather and it was just a gorgeous day. Goes by in a flash, mind, so try and fix it in your mind as it happens, and get people to take lots of photos and some videos too.’
‘Yes, we’ve got a photographer organised. A friend in the village who does some amateur work. I’ve seen his stuff and he’s good.’ Geoff, from the Kirkton photography club, had offered to help out for a small fee.
‘Well, best of luck with everything. So, I take it you’re here to collect your favours. They’re all made up and ready. I’ve done a mixed-duo selection as you asked, so there’s a mix of white, plain and dark chocolates with Irish cream, brandy, whisky, raspberry gin and Alnwick rum.’
‘Oh goodness, they sound delicious. Hah, I’m going to have to keep myself away from them or they’ll all be gone before the big day.’
‘I have given you a couple of spares, just in case.’ Emma gave a wink. ‘They’re all ready and boxed up out in the back kitchen for you.’
‘Great, and I’d like to buy a few gifts while I’m here too.’ Rachel chose her mum a bag of chocolate caramels and Granny some rose and violet creams, all packaged in pretty gift bags. For Eve, she chose a mixed box of truffles, tied with a gold satin ribbon.
A minute or two later Emma led her to the back kitchen where, she explained, all the crafting took place. It was like a cocoa-inspired Aladdin’s cave, with chocolates of all shapes, sizes and colours setting on the side, and some just-baked brownies were cooling alongside some golden-baked chocolate croissants.
‘So, here we are.’ Emma lifted the lid on a cardboard box and there they were: 150 ivory mini boxes of chocolates all tied with a tiny satin bow in the exact same shade of pale purple-blue as the bridesmaids’ dresses.
‘Wow.’ They were so pretty, Rachel felt lost for words. And the significance hit her: this was really it, in a few weeks’ time, guests would be arriving at Kirkton Church, the tipi would be up and in place at Primrose Farm complete with decorations and flowers, and these favours set out by each place, ready to be enjoyed and savoured. And, ta-dah, she would be Mrs Watson. It was crazy, lovely, exciting, a bit scary … Could it really all come off? Life had thrown her so many lemons, she was almost always waiting for the ‘but’ … And, with her and Tom’s scuppered dinner party yesterday, well … it could be a bloody big ‘but’.
‘They look just wonderful, thank you.’
They shared a brief hug; the chocolates were stunning, and Emma felt like a friend. And, from the very reasonable price the chocolatier quoted her at the till, she was certain she’d given her a discount on the original quote.
‘Right well, do you have a car nearby?’ Emma asked. ‘I can help you carry them out.’
‘Actually, I’m staying in the village a bit longer yet. My daughter’s here and we’re going to check out the craft fair that’s on today, so can I pop back and collect them a bit later, maybe in an hour or so?’
‘Absolutely, no problem.’
‘In fact, I might stop here for a quick coffee first. She’s with her dad, my ex,’ Rachel explained. ‘I need to give them a bit of time together, he doesn’t get up to see her often. I said I’d meet them at twelve.’
‘Yeah, no worries, the courtyard out the back is lovely, if you like being outside.’
‘Sounds perfect.’ Rachel really was an outside kind of girl.
‘So, what kind of coffee?’
‘Oh, an Americano with hot milk please, and … I might just have to have some of that just-baked brownie I spotted in the kitchen.’ Rachel grinned. ‘Who needs a pre-wedding diet, right?’
‘I’d say that’s the perfect accompaniment. Well, I’d better crack on. There might be more customers waiting. I’ll bring it out to you in a short while, so go ahead and take a seat.’
Rachel enjoyed twenty minutes of peace, watching a blackbird perched happily on the wall, whilst eating gooey-rich chocolate brownie washed down with the best of coffees. It was so nice to be on the other side of the counter for once, to be the guest not the server. She hoped her customers felt like this, made welcome with gorgeous treats and a peaceful place to sit and chill or chat.
It was soon time to meet up with the others. Rachel went to settle up for the coffee but Emma wouldn’t hear of it. ‘On the house, for the bride-to-be. I’ll catch you again when you pick up the chocolates. But you make sure to have the best of days at your wedding. Enjoy every moment of your special day.’
Rachel felt wrapped in a warm chocolatey hug at that point. She headed out of the cosy little shop with a big smile.
Glancing down the street, she could see that the two of them weren’t back at the harbour yet, so Rachel went to see if they were still on the beach. Maisy loved the sea and sand; Jake might be having trouble dragging her away. And yes, as she came out of the track through the dunes, there they were finishing off a big sandcastle that had four turrets with walls between each – a real work of art.
‘I’m just going to fetch shells to decorate the castle bits, Mummy,’ Maisy chattered away, before heading off with her new plastic bucket for her booty, scouring for the prettiest shells and any pieces of colourful sea glass.
Rachel sat down on the sand beside Jake, both of them watching their daughter for a few moments.
‘She’s enjoying herself,’ Rachel commented.
‘Yeah.’ Jake grinned.
‘So, how’s life? Are you doing okay?’ Rachel asked, softening. She felt she might as well make some conversation, and Jake hadn’t been too forthcoming about his personal life at all yesterday.
‘Not bad, yeah …’ He paused, as though wondering whether to keep up the bravado. ‘Actually, I’ve had a couple of big barneys with Chelsea lately. It’s been a bit tricky.’ He looked glum.
So, Rachel’s theory was right then.
‘It’s just so hard with a kid in tow all the time …’ he moaned.
‘Hah, yeah.’ Rachel saw the irony in that line. ‘Tell me about it.’
‘Right, yeah, so I guess that isn’t news to you …’ He suddenly seemed a bit sheepish.
‘Look Jake, life’s not always easy, but sometimes the hard stuff’s worth working through. And, somehow, it’s getting through all the crappy stuff that makes it all worthwhile.’ She looked out across the sea, thinking of all the pain and hurt since her dad had died. Thinking of all the times she’d struggled as a young mum, but also all the joy that Maisy had brought to her life. ‘Maybe you should try and give this Kelvin kid a chance, and Chelsea … it must be strange for him having a new man in his mum�
�s life.’ Rachel was thinking of how Tom had come into Maisy’s life in a big way recently, and how her fiancé was always so kind and patient with her. ‘Parenting isn’t easy,’ she continued, ‘but it can be so rewarding.’ She looked down the beach to see her, their, little Maisy, who was heading back with her bucket in one hand, clutching a big purple mussel shell in the other to show them both.
‘Oh, yes, that’s a beauty of a shell, Maisy,’ she called out.
‘It is, isn’t it,’ Maisy beamed.
Before she reached them, Jake looked across at Rachel. ‘You’ve done a great job with Maisy, Rach. Anyone can see that.’ He nodded, looking thoughtful.
‘Thank you.’
And Maisy was back finishing her castle, with Jake helping to put the last few ‘gems’ on top of each turret.
Rachel realised that this was the first open and honest conversation that she and Jake had had in years. However tricky he was finding it with Chelsea and young Kelvin, it had certainly given him a little more patience with Maisy and improved his parenting skills. Perhaps the smart-alec and wanderlusting lad was finally beginning to grow up.
25
Fish and chips in cardboard trays with lashings of salt and vinegar. Those little crispy bits of batter, crunchy then melting on the tongue, the soft white fish beneath, eaten with little wooden forks. The taste of summer at the seaside.
The three of them were sitting on the inner harbour wall. Rachel was amazed that she was actually enjoying her trip out with Jake, and seeing Maisy’s smiling face right now made it all the more worthwhile. Perhaps she was able to move on, forgive Jake his wayward past, and have a future that meant Maisy could be happy and loved by both parents. She wasn’t holding out too much hope that he’d be around very regularly in this future, but perhaps it could work okay for the three of them.
Summer at Rachel's Pudding Pantry Page 14