‘And, there’s something else I’d like to have in the tearooms. In fact, I’ve got a proposition for you. I’ve already talked it over with Mum.’
‘Yes?’ Eve sounded curious.
‘Would you like to sell some of your wonderful crafts with us? I’m picturing a dresser filled with “Eve’s Cottage Crafts”.’
‘Oh, my word. Are you serious?’
‘Of course, I am. It’ll look great with all your soft toys and folded knits on the shelves and those gorgeous stars and hearts and cards for sale. What a lovely addition to our tearoom that would be.’
Eve looked happily stunned.
‘And if we agree the prices together,’ Rachel continued, with her business mind on a roll, ‘we’d take a small cut, and you’d get the rest.’
‘I think that’s an amazing idea. I’d still need to keep up with my Etsy orders, though.’
‘Of course. But I know you’ve been making more than that. I mean, look at all the stuff you’ve got there piled in your dining room. It’s an ideal extra outlet for you. And quality local crafts made right here in the valley will be really popular, I’m certain.’
‘Eve’s Cottage Crafts. I haven’t named my business formally yet, but I do like that. Can I steal it?’
‘Yes, course you can.’
‘Brilliant, this is all so exciting. I think we deserve another glass of bubbly.’
And so, the prosecco glasses were topped up.
‘Hey, who’d have thought …? We’re in business together,’ grinned Eve. ‘And I’ll still do all your packaging designs too, if you’re happy with that.’
‘Of course. And yes, it’ll be great to have you on board, my lovely friend,’ Rachel said with a broad smile.
This prosecco planning was rather fabulous. Who knew a ‘business meeting’ could be such fun! They chinked glasses, then chatted some more, talking of favourite puddings they’d need to have on the menu and headed inside for a while to print off mouth-watering images to add to the Pudding Pantry pinboard that Eve had set up – the renowned sticky toffee and chocolate puds naturally, a summer-fruits pavlova, banoffee pie, treacle sponge pudding, apple crumble, bread and butter pudding, chocolate brownies, Rachel’s white chocolate and raspberry cheesecake that Eve said was a must, and more.
‘Wow, it sounds like Mum’s going to be busy,’ Rachel commented, as they drifted back outside to their cosy table. ‘I think I’d better be donning my apron as well!’
Rachel let out a contented sigh as she popped a meringue into her mouth with the last of the sweet strawberries and sat looking out across the valley. The late spring dusk was falling; the sky settling into peaceful pinky-peach hues. The sounds around them were calming; the odd tweet of a bird, the bleat of a lamb. The hum of a tractor working late down the valley – maybe it was Tom out and about. The thought of him nearby made Rachel’s smile widen for a second. Above, a swift darted across the sky, chasing insects.
‘We’re so lucky to live here, aren’t we?’ said Rachel. ‘On a night like this it’s beautiful, isn’t it? When you stop and really look.’ With the sun going down, and a lovely feeling of warmth and friendship in the air, it was one of those rare special moments, when you take stock and simply enjoy the moment.
‘Yes, we’re usually running about like blue-arsed flies and don’t really see it, do we,’ Eve agreed. ‘I love it here too. It’s a little piece of heaven … oh …’ Eve stopped herself, cursing her use of words.
‘It’s all right, I know what you mean. And you know what, despite everything. Despite the pain and hurt of these past two years, I do still love this place, the farm, this life.’ Rachel looked out over the dusk-muted mauve shades and curves of the valley; taking in every field and track that she knew by heart. ‘I really can’t imagine being anywhere else.’
Eve placed a gentle hand on Rachel’s shoulder and nodded.
Rachel sat quietly for a while with a heart full of memories, a head full of dreams and all their plans for the Pudding Pantry at Primrose Farm on a pinboard in front of them.
It was exciting and wonderful, but there was so much at stake. Boy, did this new venture have to succeed.
Chapter 19
RENOVATIONS AND ROULADE
Rachel was bristling, sat with a steaming mug of tea at the kitchen table. To her annoyance, another email had come in from Jake, asking for news on Maisy.
She’d been so cross after getting the last one, she hadn’t known quite how to respond, and life had been hectic when it had landed in her inbox. Then, when Maisy made a thank-you card for her daddy with glitter and stickers and a drawing of Pete the lamb, she realised they had nowhere to post it. You can’t send a handmade card to a bloody email address. It had made Rachel so angry.
But she recognised that Maisy should have some contact with her father, if that’s what she wanted. Maybe she’d respond this time and attach a recent photo for him, and mention the thank-you card to try and get a postal address. Arrgh, if they hadn’t had Maisy together, she’d have been happy to never see or hear from him again. Jake ready to come knocking on the door, showing renewed interest in Maisy, gave Rachel a headache that she really didn’t need right now – how could he presume that he could just jump into her and Maisy’s lives whenever it suited him? Bloody selfish, that was Jake all over, Rachel raged to herself.
At least she had an exciting project to distract her from the emotional tribulations with her ex. After a busy few weeks on the farm, the day had finally come for the wheels to start turning on the Pudding Pantry plans. Not to mention for the farmyard to become filled with dust and building debris. The noise of drilling, clanging and hammering filled the air, and Rachel’s head, which was already in a spin after hearing from Jake, was banging too.
‘Oh my God, I can’t handle this noise!’ Rachel broke away from her admin tasks at the laptop.
Jill quickly went to close all the windows of the kitchen, despite it being a warm day, realising that plumes of dust were already billowing in.
‘Ah no, the puddings will be full of grit!’ she groaned. Her latest batch of chocolate puddings for the Deli were sitting cooling on the side.
‘They’ll have extra crunchy toppings!’ Rachel said wryly, adding, ‘Well, at least it means we’re on the way.’ After a week’s delay on their agreed start date whilst the builders were finishing off a previous project, it was great to see, if not hear, some action.
‘Yes, I know, we couldn’t afford to have wasted much more time. It’ll be a busy, noisy month, but it also spells progress,’ added Jill. ‘Just think, when we get through this, we can get everything up and running and we’ll be opening soon.’
‘Yes, it’s really happening, Mum.’
The electrician they’d hired was also coming in to get the wiring to the barn checked and improved. Rachel was quite looking forward to the electrician coming back actually. He was friendly and chatty and seemed to know his stuff when he’d called at the farm to give a quote a few weeks ago. His name was Carl, and she could picture his blond hair and grey-green eyes that had a bit of sparkle about them. It gave her a jolt of surprise to acknowledge that his face had stuck in her mind …
‘Can I help you with anything here, Mum?’ Rachel asked, bringing herself back to the here and now.
‘Not just now thanks, love. I’ve got all these made. But I am going to experiment with some new puddings and desserts ready for the pantry’s opening. We’ll need an exciting selection to tempt our customers, so I’m thinking about how we can push the boat out.’
‘Ooh, what are you thinking?’
‘Well, we’ll be right in the swing of summer when we open, won’t we. So, I’ll have to try a summer pudding, I haven’t made one of those for ages, and I’ve just found this recipe for a dark chocolate and raspberry roulade.’
‘Now that sounds divine!’
‘Hey, come and look at this, too. I was hunting for something traditional and old-fashioned and I remembered Ruth’s scrummy spotte
d dick recipe, so I’ve been looking through the old Baking Bible, and there it was. But see this …’ Jill was smiling broadly as she pointed to the open page.
There was a loose page tucked there with Grandma Ruth’s unmistakeable neat handwriting … and then, beside the title of ‘Spotted Dick’, written in a childish scrawl, was ‘Hahaha!’ and a cartoonish – but unmistakeably crude – drawing! Rachel grinned – that so must have been Dad as a mischievous boy.
‘That’s hilarious! I wonder if Grandma Ruth was cross.’ Rachel could almost picture the pair of them: Dad and his mum here in the kitchen baking together, or most likely Dad meant to be doing some schoolwork at the kitchen table and naughtily scribbling in her margin when she wasn’t looking.
‘Well, I’ll have to give this a try, won’t I, and some of the others to see if they work out all right. Let’s see what works best and what you all like.’
‘Great, so, are we going to have to be pudding guinea pigs for the next few weeks?’
‘You are indeed.’
‘Blimey, the things we have to put up with for the sake of the business.’ Rachel gave a mock shrug. ‘It’s so tough, this pudding malarkey.’
Jill smiled.
‘Right, well I’ll get back out with Moss and start rounding up the sheep and bringing them down ready for shearing. We’ve got Big Bob in tomorrow,’ Rachel said.
Big Bob travelled around the area at shearing time. They had the ewes to shear, all one hundred and ninety of them, plus three tups, who were far stronger and harder to wrestle to the ground. It’d take a whole day. Shearing helped to keep the sheep cool for the warm summer months, and kept the flies from settling in the fleece and causing all sorts of bother. She and Moss would go out and herd them up today, so they were ready in The Stackyard – which was the field nearest the farm and lambing shed, soon to be the shearing shed.
Like Jill, Simon would be helping tomorrow as well – it’d be all hands on deck, with Big Bob doing the bulk of the shearing. Rachel did know how to shear, but there was an art to it and her fleeces tended to look a bit scruffy, as did the animals thereafter. It also needed a lot of physical strength for the numbers of sheep involved, so she worked better as ‘shearer’s assistant’, rolling and stacking the fleeces. She still used the same old wool needle that her grandfather had used to sew up the wool sacks, ready for collection.
It was hard and smelly work – Rachel was already thinking about the hot bubble bath she’d no doubt be craving afterwards.
The day after the shearing – God, it had been a tough physical labour – Rachel was up sharp, despite her aches and pains. They were three days into the barn renovations and Rachel couldn’t resist a look in. She swung open the barn door with a sense of expectation. Oh … there was dust and grime and a broken-up floor where it needed levelling out, and it all looked a bit of a mess. Her heart sank – they were at the point where you walked into a renovation project and wondered what the hell you’d embarked upon. It was early days, she reminded herself. It needed to be stripped to its shell so that they could move forward. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to call to mind the lovely interior design inspiration on her pinboard … it was doable, with a bit of creativity and graft.
She came back out and got on the quad ready to do her morning tour of the farm’s livestock. At the top of the grassy bank, where her signal was better, Rachel took out her mobile and phoned Carl the electrician, to see if he could make it there in the coming day or two. She didn’t want anything to hold things up.
‘Hi, Rach.’ His voice was warm and friendly down the line. ‘Yes, I should be able to make it up really soon. I’ve a couple of jobs arranged up your way from tomorrow actually, and I’ve got a B&B sorted for a couple of nights near there so that ties in well. I can come in on Thursday, take a look, and maybe fit in the work Friday if that’s any good?’
‘Yes, that’d be great. Thanks so much for squeezing us in.’
‘Okay, I’ll see you around nine, Thursday.’
‘Perfect.’
On Thursday morning, Carl whizzed up the farm track in his little white van that read ‘CJT Electrics’ on the side – Carl John Turner.
‘Hey Rachel,’ he called, stepping out of the van. He was dressed casually in jeans and a black polo-shirt. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Hey Carl, well, it’s all getting going in the barn. Looks a bit chaotic just now, but it’s coming on – so the builders say, anyway,’ answered Rachel.
‘Ah, don’t worry, that’s often the way with this kind of a project,’ Carl acknowledged, reassuringly.
‘Right, well if you come across, I can show you where we need you. Can I get you a cup of tea, coffee? I’m sure Ian and Dan, the two builders, will be ready for a coffee now too.’
Over the past four days, the builders hadn’t yet been known to say no to a cup, served strong with two sugars each – in fact, there seemed to be a constant caffeine supply wending its way across to the barn since they’d arrived, and Mum was being rather liberal with supplies of cakes and puddings too. Rachel had a feeling she was testing out her new bakes on the two workmen, and they were more than happy to oblige.
‘Yeah, a coffee would be great thanks, white one sugar.’ He gave a big white-toothed grin.
He was actually quite a good-looking chap, Rachel mused. ‘Well, if you want to head across to the barn and introduce yourself to the other lads, Ian and Dan, I’ll be across with the coffees in two ticks.’
‘Great, no worries. I’ll take a quick look around. Remind myself of the job.’
Later in the morning, Carl came knocking at the farmhouse door.
‘Right then, do you want the good news or the bad?’ He flashed a smile, then proceeded to tell Rachel and Jill that the costs might have to be slightly higher than his original quote. He’d discovered a few dodgy bits of wiring that would need further work in the new kitchen area.
‘Well, if it needs doing then we want to get it right. Can you email me the new figures to look over?’ said Rachel.
‘Yep, will do. It’s a great place out here, isn’t it,’ he added, looking around him from his doorstep vantage point. ‘I like to do a bit of mountain-biking sometimes, bet there’s some great trails and lovely views further up the hills.’
‘Oh you bet, it’s a beautiful part of the world. I’ve never mountain-biked myself, but I know people flock to the trails from miles around.’
It was nice that he appreciated their valley.
‘Hmm, might have to head back for a trip out on one of my days off. Come and say hi.’ He raised his eyebrows just a touch, which took Rachel off guard. Was he just being friendly?
‘Right, well that’s me away till tomorrow afternoon,’ said Carl. ‘Need to crack on with this job over at the grain dryers in Belford, that’s going to be as exciting as watching paint dry, I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?’ His smile was warm and friendly. ‘Looking forward to it,’ he added.
Rachel wasn’t quite sure, but had there been a touch of flirting going on there? She was so out of practice with all that, she couldn’t be certain. But she certainly did like the cheeky twinkle in his bright green eyes …
Chapter 20
A DISASTROUS DATE PUDDING
Friday swung around, and Carl had been working all afternoon on the barn’s electrics. The builders had left at lunchtime, happy to start the weekend early and let the electrician get on with his tasks. Rachel had popped in now and again to take Carl a coffee and see how things were going, finding him singing along to the portable radio he’d brought with him. He seemed cheerful and chatty, occasionally flashing what seemed to be his trademark smile.
As early evening set in, he knocked on the farmhouse door and asked if Rachel and Jill would come across to the barn. He talked them through his handiwork, and it certainly looked like a neat job.
‘That’s brilliant. Thank you,’ said Rachel, as she walked around, feeling a buzz of excitement that things were really
starting to take shape here.
‘Yes, you’ve been wonderful, Carl. Thank you,’ added Jill.
‘Right, well that’s me about done then. I just need to tidy up my tools, then I’m away. I’ll send on the invoice for this by email, if that’s okay, yeah?’
‘Yes, that’s fine,’ Rachel replied.
Rachel tried not to worry too much about the money. Mum’s savings pot was dwindling fast but the grants they’d applied for should hopefully come in soon – well, if they were accepted; things were still a bit tense.
‘Umm, I’ve still got a night booked up this way in my digs.’ Carl looked at Rachel with a cheeky smile. ‘What would you say to coming out with me for a drink this evening?’
‘Oh, I’m …’ Was she being asked on a date, or was it just a friendly chat and a drink? She was sooo out of this game, she was floundering, badly.
Before she could say any more, however, Jill chipped in. ‘Yes, go on love. I’m happy to look after Maisy. It’s no bother, I’m at home anyhow. You go out and have some fun for a change.’
‘Well, okay then.’ Why not? It wasn’t every day a good-looking guy asked you out for a drink, and he seemed friendly enough.
‘Great, I’ll pick you up around seven-thirty then. That’ll give me a chance to get back to my digs and take a shower.’
‘Great.’ Rachel’s voice came out slightly high-pitched, as a sudden unbidden image of Carl in a shower sprang to mind. It was certainly not appropriate thinking-matter with her mother stood beside her.
Just at that moment, to make things even more embarrassing, Maisy skipped around the corner into the barn. She’d been playing out in the garden, enjoying the freedom of a warm June evening after school. She screwed up her nose. ‘Don’t like it in here, Mummy. It doesn’t look very nice. It’s all dug up and horrid. And, it smells funny.’
‘Oh, it’s not ready yet, Maisy,’ soothed Rachel. ‘There’s loads of work to do here yet. Give it a few weeks and it’ll all be so different.’
‘Good. No-one would want to eat pudding in here.’ She scowled with her whole face screwed up, as only a five-year-old can.
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