Summer at Rachel's Pudding Pantry

by Caroline Roberts

  ‘Coo-ey?’ It was Wendy calling from the stairs.

  ‘In here, come on in,’ answered Rachel.

  ‘I’ve just come with the flowers for your hair, girls.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course.’ Rachel had ordered a delicate floral garland designed to match her bouquet colours. Eve was to set it in place once her dress was on.

  The girls had two mini garlands to echo Rachel’s, and the others had a pretty burst of gypsophila with a single cornflower and a pale pink rose, to pop in their hair.

  ‘These are gorgeous. Thank you so much, Wendy.’

  ‘And I’ve brought your bouquets and baskets through to the kitchen for you, all ready to collect when your transport to the church turns up. Everything’s finished in the tipi, and I’ve popped some flowers as a little extra outside the Pudding Pantry doors to welcome your guests. Just a little something from me.’

  ‘Oh, thank you so much, Wendy. That sounds wonderful. And you are coming along too? We’ve got a place set for you. You’re not just here to work, you know.’

  ‘Absolutely, wouldn’t miss it for the world, pet.’

  ‘Oh, well after all that hard work, come and have a glass of prosecco with us.’ Charlotte raised the half-empty bottle and found a spare flute.

  ‘Just a small one then. I’m yet to drive to and from the church.’

  The bedroom door opened after a brief knock, to reveal Granny Ruth looking very smart in a plum-coloured jacket and skirt, followed closely by Jill, who was bearing a tray of tea and mini meringues with fresh cream and raspberries on top.

  ‘Hello, lasses. Oh, it looks all go in here,’ Granny beamed.

  ‘And I’ve got a few treats here that Granny has made. It’s a long while until the reception, and I think your tummies might need a bit of lining,’ added Jill with a smile, as she popped the tray down on the side.

  ‘Thank you, Granny. They look divine.’ Rachel’s eyes lit up.

  ‘And,’ Jill continued, ‘your Granny’s also been up half the night, by the looks of it, and made a hundred and fifty bite-sized lemon meringue pies and more of these raspberry meringues to go with your reception drinks at the Pantry.’

  ‘Oh, Granny. You’re very naughty, you should be resting. But thank you.’ Rachel went over to give her a hug.

  ‘I wanted to do my bit to help out, that’s all, pet.’

  ‘Love the outfit, Mrs Swinton. Gorgeous colour on you.’ Eve was smiling across at Ruth.

  ‘Thank you, Eve. Jill and I had a wee shopping expedition down to John Lewis in Newcastle. She persuaded me to splash out on something new.’

  ‘Well, it’s just perfect, Granny,’ added Rachel proudly.

  ‘Right then, time’s rolling on,’ said Jill, checking her watch. ‘I’ll catch up with you girls in a minute. I need to be getting my glad rags on too. Ruth, do you want a cup of tea down in the kitchen while I get ready, or are you happy here?’

  ‘Well, if the young ’uns don’t mind, I’d like to sit here and be part of all the preparations … and I might have a wee taste of that bubbly I’ve just spotted there, Rachel.’ She gave a wink.

  Hair and make-up done, prosecco sipped, Rachel sat back and took everything in for a few minutes. There seemed to be a whole heap of love, excitement and anticipation in that room. The bridesmaids were now putting on their satin dresses, and Maisy and Amelia were waltzing about having been popped into theirs.

  Then, it was time for Rachel to get into her own dress. She went across the landing to Jill’s room where it hung, knocked softly and walked in to see her mum ready in her frock, a lovely shift dress in soft pink florals with a short pale pink jacket.

  ‘Oh, Mum, you look wonderful.’ She’d seen her outfit on once before, as Jill had had a try-on after the shopping day out. But today, it looked even more special. Dad’s photo was looking over at them from its place on the dressing table. Rachel gazed from that back to her mum, and they shared a poignant look.

  ‘Now don’t start me off already, love,’ Jill smiled with misted eyes.

  ‘I’ve come to fetch my dress. It’s nearly time, Mum.’

  ‘Yes, my love.’ She took both her daughter’s hands in hers.

  ‘Shall I put it on in here? Then go and show the girls?’

  ‘Yes, why not.’

  Jill helped her into the beautiful gown. The care and attention to detail with which Eve had crafted it was stunning – it had a sleeveless bodice that fell from the shoulders to form a soft V at Rachel’s bosom, and was tight into the waist, where it buttoned down the back. Below that, it fell into the most magical long tulle skirt, with appliquéd ivory flowers that Eve had sewn on from the waist down to the hem, scattered prettily like fragile blooms in the wind.

  ‘Oh, well that’s done it,’ Jill sniffed, looking at her daughter with pride. ‘Thank heavens for waterproof mascara, that’s all I can say. Here, let me help with the buttons at the back.’ Jill carefully fastened them. ‘Oh love, you look beautiful. Tom is going to be bowled over.’

  Rachel stepped before the full-length mirror. Wow, it didn’t even look like her! Who was this imposter? Some girl from a fairy tale … but, she didn’t believe in fairy tales, she reminded herself – well, not since she was six. You had to make your own way in life, and you didn’t need a prince to make it work out. But … if you found that someone to love and respect you, someone who could hold you at night. If you loved them too, and wanted to help make their world a better place; if you were willing to work together through the ups and downs that life could throw at you, then that was as good a reason as any she could think of for getting married.

  Jill tweaked the folds of the dress and then the waves in her daughter’s hair. ‘Perfect.’

  ‘Oh, and there’s my flower hair garland to put on top yet. It’s in my room.’

  ‘Well then, let’s go and see the others and put the final touches in place.’ They made to leave the room but Jill caught her by the hand. ‘Rachel …’ They both stopped, realising this might be the last private moment they’d have before the wedding service. ‘You have the most wonderful day. Savour every precious moment … Oh, it’ll fly by, and you’ll both be so busy, so don’t forget to go and find Tom every now and again, just for a few minutes, and make your own special memories.’

  ‘I will. Thanks, Mum.’

  ‘Dad would be so very proud of you, my love.’

  Rachel took a huge breath and smiled, which was soon followed by a happy, emotional sniff. ‘So glad Hannah used the waterproof mascara on me too,’ she quipped.

  With the finishing touches complete, garlands in place and bouquets to hand, it was time for the bridesmaids to go. Tom’s father had offered to drive them down to the church in two trips, as he had the smartest car among them: a lovely Mercedes saloon. He came into the farmhouse to wish Rachel well, saying that he was looking forward very much to welcoming her into their family. Aw, that gave her a lovely, fuzzy feeling. Off went Charlotte and Eve with happy smiles and waves. ‘Woo-hoo, see you at the church, hun!’

  It felt weird a short while later, waving off the second contingent – Mum, Maisy and Amelia. All waving madly in the back seat, with the big ivory bow on the car bonnet flapping in the breeze as they set off down the farm track.

  So, this was it … nearly time.

  Tom should be there at the church by now. All the guests milling in, the pews filling up, and even more friends and acquaintances from the village who couldn’t fit in the church waiting outside – as was the local custom – to wave at the bride and gasp, gawp, and comment on her dress. Rachel had no doubt that they would love Eve’s creation. She felt so very special in it, and it meant all the more that it had been made lovingly by her best friend.

  ‘Are you all right then, Rachel, lass?’ Granny Ruth brought her back from her reverie.

  ‘Yes. A bit nervous maybe, more about tripping up or not saying my words right. I’m not nervous about Tom or us getting married. It just feels so right.’

 
; ‘Good, that’s how it should be, pet. And, he’s a fine young man, Rachel. I have no doubt you two will be happy together.’

  ‘Thank you, Granny.’

  ‘Oh, well this takes me right back to my wedding day … Yes, the village was pretty much out in force. Everyone loved a wedding – a chance for a feast and a good old knees-up afterwards.’

  ‘Well, some things don’t change,’ smiled Rachel.

  With that, there was the sound of clip-clopping up the farm track. Rachel’s heart raced a little, realising that this was really it, her turn to go to the church.

  There was a knock at the door and it was a local farming friend, David, one of her dad’s close pals. He popped his head around the door with a grin. ‘Well then, young lady, your carriage awaits.’

  Rachel stood up. Granny gave her granddaughter’s hair and gown some last tweaks, though Rachel had no idea why, as the transport that awaited them would surely leave them both to the whim of the elements.

  ‘Well, this is really it. Any last words of wedding advice then, Granny?’

  ‘Now then, I’d say be a team, work together, and don’t take each other for granted. And don’t expect it all to be easy.’

  ‘Okay then, here we go.’ Rachel beamed, whilst feeling a butterfly-queasy stomach.

  Granny took her hand; they shared a smile filled with love and understanding. The last to leave. Rachel took a look around her; this would be the last day she lived here at Primrose Farm, and a wave of emotion swept over her. Oh my, she needed to get a grip. But then, she reminded herself, it was also going to be the first day of the rest of her life … as a married woman to caring, hard-working and handsome Tom. Her next step felt lighter.

  Flash, a bay-and-white stocky – and ironically slow – pony, stood patiently outside, his dark-wood carriage decorated with white ribbons and pink and white roses. It looked very much as if Wendy had been working on more than she’d admitted or charged for, bless her. David’s gorgeous pony and trap, which his grandchildren adored, was often brought out to help at summer fêtes and such like, and here it was today all ready to take Rachel and Ruth to the church.

  As Rachel reached the carriage, she bustled up her sweeping skirt, anxious to keep it perfect, and she took David’s hand to step up.

  ‘Hah, I feel a bit like the Queen,’ said Granny Ruth, who was now giving her best royal wave as she settled down beside her. ‘Just practising …’

  Rachel shook her head, grinning at her characterful grandmother.

  ‘Oh, David,’ Rachel called out, ‘you couldn’t do me a favour and grab my wellies from the porch, could you? I have an idea what Tom was planning for the journey back, and I really don’t think white satin slingbacks will cut the mustard.’

  ‘Of course, and Rachel, you look a real treat. I bet your dad’ll be looking down right now with a right big grin on his face.’

  ‘Thank you, David,’ Rachel managed to reply with a lump in her throat.

  Rachel and Ruth squeezed each other’s hands tight.

  David popped the wellingtons into the carriage, climbed onto his seat and took up the reins. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Ready.’ And Rachel felt so very sure that she was.

  44

  The lane to Kirkton Church was lined with onlookers and well-wishers, and Ruth had managed to implement her royal wave several times, with Rachel beaming and waving too. A fashionably three minutes late, but not enough to give the groom any palpitations, the carriage drew up outside the church gate.

  There was a flurry of activity as the bridesmaids and Jill gathered with excited chatter, Maisy and Amelia skipping up with their flower baskets swinging wildly. There were lots of ‘Oohs’ and ‘Aahs’ from the gathering, and ‘Doesn’t she look lovely’ ringing out. A cheer went up as the bride-to-be stepped down from the carriage, and she spent a moment thanking David and giving Flash a gentle thank-you rub on his soft cheek.

  Eve helped arrange Rachel’s dress and tweaked her hair. And then a hush descended as the bridesmaids lined up behind Rachel, even the little ones going quiet – a sense that something momentous was about to happen.

  As Rachel stepped through the narrow wooden churchyard gate, with Ruth by her side, her eyes were drawn to a grassy, shady area at the far end of the grounds where her dad’s headstone lay. ‘Love you, Dad,’ she whispered, sending up a silent heartfelt message.

  Life and death and love, centred here in this sacred place, next to the ancient stone walls she was about to step within. Where the journey of life and family were marked. A place of celebration and commiseration, of love and of loss. But today was about celebration, and her relationship with Tom, and she couldn’t wait to see him – waiting for her. She hoped upon hope that he was there.

  At the big wooden church door, she took a moment to pause and smile at Granny, who gave her a firm reassuring nod and a proud smile back. Chords of music struck up on the church’s old and slightly cranky organ. The slow walk began, Ruth’s stick echoing on the stone flags. Rachel’s heart was so full as she stepped into that aisle. And there was Tom …

  He was dressed in a smart black jacket, crisp white shirt, bow tie and … a black-and-white checked kilt. Ooh, he’d kept that a secret. Rachel felt her grin widen. She’d never seen Tom in a kilt before – it kind of suited him, she had to admit.

  There was a sea of smiling faces from the pews at each side of the aisle, and as she took slow steps, Rachel could feel their gaze on her, but the only face she concentrated on was that of her fiancé. He had a gorgeous kind of awed look, a look of love warming his broad smile. And she knew that she would remember it for the rest of her life.

  As she reached the altar, coming to stand beside the man she couldn’t wait to marry, Tom whispered, ‘You look so beautiful. Thanks for stopping by.’

  Her smile answered all of his hopes and dreams.

  The service began with the female vicar welcoming them all and saying some heartfelt words. The congregation sang, Charlotte read out a heart-warming poem that Tom and Rachel had chosen, and then it was time to make their vows, promising to love and cherish each other, for better or worse, in sickness and in health. And then came the moment for the rings to be exchanged. The vicar asked for the ring bearer to come forward. At that point, Rachel turned to look down the aisle and beamed as she saw her dad’s faithful dog there ready as planned with Simon. ‘Here Moss!’

  Sporting a smart bow-tie collar with a sprig of pink rose and gypsophila tucked into it, Moss came bounding down the aisle, stopping to lie down beside the couple. A roll of mirth spread through the audience. Under Moss’s collar was attached a velvet ring box, where two very precious rings were nestled together. Ben, as best man, stepped forward to detach it, and passed the first ring to Tom.

  ‘I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage. With my body I honour you, all that I am I give to you …’ Tom’s voice was loud and clear and filled the church with its honesty. His hand was trembling a little, and Rachel stilled it with her smile as he placed the ring on her finger. As his jacket arm lifted, she saw the silver tractor cufflink in place and her heart skipped a beautiful beat.

  Rachel then made her own vows, carefully positioning the platinum band on Tom’s left hand. And then there was the gorgeous moment of joy and relief when the vicar pronounced them ‘man and wife’, with Tom and Rachel holding hands. And, at the words, ‘You may now kiss the bride’, a joyful whoop went up from the bridesmaids.

  ‘Come here then, you,’ Tom grinned. They shared a tender kiss before their friends and family, finding themselves a little overwhelmed, happy tears in their eyes. Moss, who’d stayed at Rachel’s side throughout, gave a bark. It was time to sign the register, followed by a final prayer, and the couple then made their way down the aisle, holding hands and grinning broadly, with the church bells ringing out.

  Rose-petal confetti like scented snowflakes was thrown over the two of them by the gathering outside, catching in eyelashes and scattering over Rachel’s hair an
d gown. Photographs, giggling, chatter; appraisals on the dress and the service; a dash for cars. And a massive green tractor pulled up outside the church gate, with balloons, ribbons, and – for good measure – a few noisy tin cans trailing from it on strings. In the back window of the cab there was a handwritten sign that read ‘Just Married’. Mark stepped down from it, dressed in his smart suit; he’d dashed round to fetch it, having parked it out of sight before the service.

  ‘Well, I knew you were only after my tractor, really,’ Tom said wryly.

  ‘Absolutely.’ Rachel laughed out loud.

  Rachel’s wellies were there ready by the church door, and she made a quick switch, Eve taking her fancy wedding shoes from her. Tom hauled her up in his arms as she giggled away, her dress splaying out in gorgeous tulle folds, and carried her to their wedding car – country-style. With a kiss on the lips and a beep of the horn, Tom and Rachel, Mr and Mrs Watson, set off for their wedding reception.

  45

  Arriving back at Primrose Farm in the wedding tractor, the newlywed couple found the Pantry barn doors open wide, with bunting flying gaily above them and two large metal milk urns filled with beautiful countryside flowers set each side of the entrance. Jan, Eileen and Christine from the WI were in position with beaming smiles and ‘Congratulations’, ready to serve drinks. Fairy lights had been strung up over the counter, and trays of lemon gin fizz cocktails and zingy lemon sodas were set out to welcome the guests. Platters of mini lemon meringue pies and bitesize raspberry meringues were passed around – perfect pudding canapés.

  Cars arrived, guests spilled out, and Maisy and Amelia, along with Jill and Ruth, had a wonderful lift back on the pony and trap. Still wearing wellies that were peeking out under her wedding dress, Rachel greeted the wedding guests at the doors to the Pudding Pantry, with Tom right beside her.

  ‘Congratulations, guys!’ Eve came up with a big hug for Rachel, as Ben shook Tom’s hand, ‘Well done, mate.’