Carl finished packing up his tool box and was soon heading for the barn door. ‘Right, well that’s me done then, ladies. See you later, Rachel.’ He ignored Maisy as he flashed a wide grin at Rachel, adding a brief, ‘Bye then,’ that was directed at Jill.
‘Why’s he seeing you later?’ Maisy demanded as Carl left the barn.
‘Oh, I’m going out for a chat and a drink, that’s all. Grandma’s looking after you.’
‘Oh.’ Maisy looked slightly put out, but said no more on the matter, instead running around the barn getting dust and debris all over her school shoes, much to Rachel’s dismay. When she finally came back to them with a slowing skip, she crossed her arms and announced indignantly how it had looked so much better when it was her party, which – of course – it had.
What to wear? Rachel hadn’t bought anything new for so long – she generally lived in jeans, T-shirts, fleeces, and often an old green boiler suit for grubby jobs around the farm. But she ought to look like she’d made a bit of an effort for this evening at least. She dug through her clothes rail in the pine wardrobe of her double bedroom, humming along to her favourite country music playing in the background, until she chanced upon a navy floral-print dress, teamed on a hanger with a short-sleeved cardigan. Would it even fit her now?
She seemed to remember the last time she’d worn it was out to a dinner for Mum’s birthday. That must be about three years ago now. Maisy was still in a high chair, she remembered, and yes, Dad was there with them. Back when life was good. They still had their difficulties back then on the farm of course, but none of them had known what was to come. She sighed as she took the dress out; it was summery and pretty, but felt bittersweet.
Right, enough nostalgia, she needed to get changed and ready in fifteen minutes as Carl would soon be here. She pulled the dress on. It wasn’t quite as fitted as she remembered – she must have actually lost some weight in the past couple of years, though she was still by no means thin. She’d always had curves from being a teenager and was a happy size twelve. Jake had always said they were in the right places, though he was often able to pull out the kind of lines that flattered back then. Nowadays, Rachel never really took much note of her body. It was useful, it all worked fine, and it mostly lived under layers of warm and practical clothing.
She gave a quick brush of her thick wavy dark hair – she’d wear it loose tonight, set it free from the ponytail band that usually kept it swept out of the way. It fell with a bounce to just below her shoulders. A flick of mascara, a smear of pink lipstick and a spritz of perfume, and she was ready.
When she got downstairs, Maisy came dashing over to her. ‘Ooh, Mummy, you look lovely.’
‘Ah, thanks, petal.’
‘Yes, you do, love. I always liked you in that dress.’ Jill was smiling with a soft expression on her face. Rachel wondered if the dress brought back memories for her too.
Rachel felt a little nervous, as she heard the crunch of gravel in the yard outside. Carl must have arrived. Okay, she told herself, this wasn’t really a date, just a drink out. Was she okay with that? Or did she want it to be a date? She didn’t have a clue.
‘Right, I’m off then. Night, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning, as you’ll be all tucked up in bed when I get back.’ She gave her little girl a kiss on the nose. ‘Bye, Mum. Thanks again. I’ll not be late.’
‘It’s fine, love. Me and Maisy are going to have a grand time baking some cupcakes and then we’ll have a nice long story time before bed, won’t we?’
Maisy was nodding happily. ‘Can we do the pink icing ones?’ she asked.
‘Of course.’
‘Okay, bye then. Have a nice evening here.’
Rachel headed out to the porch, just as Carl arrived at the door, smart in dark jeans and a blue shirt.
‘Oh – hi.’ She really was feeling nervous.
‘Hey, you look gorgeous.’ His eyes scanned up and down over her dress and curves, and he flashed a sparkling grin.
‘Ah … thank you, you’ve also scrubbed up well.’
He was standing close and smelt fresh of shower gel and aftershave. His blond hair was still slightly damp from the shower, and his grey-green eyes were smiling at her. Yeah, she had to admit he looked good.
‘Have a nice time,’ Jill poked her head out from the front door.
Maisy stood in her pyjamas beside her. ‘Bye, Mummy.’
‘Bye! See you later Maisy, and be good for Grandma.’ Rachel waved.
Carl also gave them a quick wave as he ducked into the van.
‘Bet you can’t wait to get away,’ he commented, once she was sitting beside him.
‘Ah … well …’ Why was he speaking as though her family were a bit of a hindrance? She couldn’t help but feel a bit put out, but maybe he was nervous too. Nerves were certainly getting the better of her. She started chewing a hangnail on her thumb as they sped off down the farm track, and then stopped herself, knowing that it wouldn’t look particularly attractive or confident. Damn, she was so out of practice with all this stuff. Why had she said yes?
Okay, focus on the music playing on the radio, yes, that was it. They’d set off to the sounds of some kind of club-style dance music, which was probably quite trendy, but she’d never heard it before. She’d always been a bit of a country music fan herself, so she didn’t even feel she could talk about that.
Luckily Carl broke the awkward silence. ‘Love the dress. You look great.’ They then proceeded to chat about the work he’d been doing that afternoon at the grain store. Phew. So far so bumpy … but at least the conversation was starting to pick up.
Rachel was quite relieved when she realised they were driving away from Kirkton, and on to a pub in Milfield, the next village along. It seemed to be just a casual drink that Carl had in mind and that suited Rachel, though she was happy that tongues wouldn’t be wagging quite as much out here as they might have done in her local pub. It couldn’t be helped – she’d lived at Kirkton all her life and it was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone.
The evening started okay. Rachel ordered a glass of white wine, trying to appear slightly more sophisticated than having her usual cider. They sat at a corner table and chatted about life at the farm and the plans for the Pudding Pantry, and soon the conversation switched back once more to Carl’s work. He enjoyed telling her all about his latest projects and by the time he’d got on to the story of the hotel conversion he’d completed single-handedly last month, she had the feeling he might just be elaborating a touch on the truth. Were there many five-star hotel resorts on the Northumberland coast? Not to her knowledge. It was probably more like a smallish family-run hotel. But she reined in the negative thinking … maybe he really was the superman of the electrician world?
She bought the next round of drinks in and was quite enjoying the wine for a change. Carl had had a couple of pints of lager. She was glad they were on the English side of the border, as he’d have been way over the limit otherwise. She felt slightly uneasy about the fact that he was driving but he’d probably be fine, he’d hopefully go on to a soft drink next.
His B&B was back in Kirkton, so after chatting for another half hour, he suggested heading back that way and having a further drink back in Rachel’s village. That made sense, though she knew she’d be back to the tongues-wagging-in-the-neighbourhood zone.
When they reached The Black Bull, Carl ordered a pint and another glass of wine for Rachel. The landlord, Mick, gave Carl an intense once-over before saying his hellos, and adding, ‘How are you doing then, Rachel?’
‘I’m fine, Mick, thanks, and you?’
‘Just grand. And how’s the little lass and your mum?’
‘They’re good, thanks. We’re all getting on well just now.’
‘Well, that’s good to hear.’ Of course the villagers all knew of the tough times that the Swinton girls had been through, and their support and goodwill was still evident.
They were soon sitting at a corner tabl
e again chatting away. Carl’s arm was resting across the back of Rachel’s chair in a relaxed manner that she didn’t mind, when in came Tom. He spotted her and smiled at first, then his gaze shifted, taking in the man next to her. Rachel put a hand up to wave, but it lingered in the air, apparently unseen, as Tom strode swiftly on to the bar. Rachel felt slightly uneasy without really knowing why.
She and Carl chatted a while longer, talking about TV and music and his favourite films, most of which Rachel had never seen – to be fair, he seemed to be into a lot of action and war-type movies. Then Carl got up to get another round of drinks in, though Rachel was feeling she’d probably had enough by that point – the wine seemed way stronger than the cider she normally had.
‘Oh, I’m not sure …’ she started.
‘Ah come on, Rach. Chill a bit. It’s early yet.’
She reluctantly acquiesced and Carl headed to the bar again to order. It was obvious that Carl wouldn’t be able to give her a lift home now that he’d had four pints, but Rachel was definitely feeling ready to head back soon. She’d have plenty to get up and do on the farm in the morning, and she really didn’t fancy another hangover. She was about half-way through her fourth glass of wine, finding the taste a bit sour now, and was just thinking of organising a taxi for herself as the farm was a good three miles away – her ‘date’ hadn’t seemed to have thought of that – when Carl piped up, ‘So, are you fancying a nightcap back at mine? Well, at my digs at the B&B.’ His smile widened as one brow arched, and she knew instantly what kind of nightcap he was thinking of.
‘Oh sorry,’ she blurted out. ‘But I really need to be getting back for Maisy.’
Wow, she hardly knew this guy. Yes, she was aware people had one night stands all the time, but it really wasn’t her thing. She knew where nights like that could end and it wasn’t for her. She also had a little girl and a mother waiting at home for her.
‘Ah, come on babe. The night is still young. You could still head back later.’
After a quick shag, he means. Rachel was starting to get irritated with his pushy, entitled attitude. But she didn’t want to cause an argument, or a scene, and she tried to stay polite.
‘Look, I’ve had a nice night.’ Up until now. ‘But I really don’t know you that well, Carl.’
‘Hey, well, I find you don’t always have to know someone that well to have a good time.’ His trademark smile suddenly looked way too arrogant.
So, this was what this evening was all about, ‘having a good time’, a quick shag. She hated that word, but it seemed fitting with Carl’s expectations.
So, this was how it worked with Carl Turner. He bought you a few drinks and then expected a favour in return. It would pass another boring work night away. He probably had casual acquaintances all over the place. She wouldn’t put it past him having a girlfriend back home too. Her guard was right up.
She noticed Tom glancing across at her from the bar just then. Was her face giving away her unease? But she was more than capable of handling this on her own.
‘Well, I’m going to book myself a taxi, Carl. In fact, I can see there’s one waiting at the village square.’ With that she grabbed her handbag and stood up; thank heavens she still had a ten-pound note left in her purse. Carl didn’t try to stop her or even to see her to the taxi. She walked tall with her head held high, out through the pub door. Phew, great, she spotted Jim, the local cabbie, there in his usual spot, and swiftly made her way to his saloon car.
‘Hey there, Rachel.’ You see, everyone did know everyone in Kirkton. ‘Nice night, pet?’
‘Not bad,’ she lied.
‘Heading back to the farm?’
‘Yes, please.’ Back to the farm. Back to normal. No more thoughts of stupid date nights. Her bloody track record with men was still abysmal. She seemed drawn to the dickheads.
That was the last she wanted to see of Carl bloody Turner. She’d obviously pay his bill for the work done on the barn, but … she’d be getting someone else in to fit the Pudding Pantry chandeliers, if she could ever afford them!
As the taxi pulled away, Rachel noticed the door to The Black Bull open. Out came Tom, looking around him with an edge of concern. He clocked the taxi, and spotted Rachel looking out from the rear window. He nodded at her then, and tentatively raised a hand, signalling goodnight. She gave him a small smile, and watched him turn around as her taxi pulled out into the night.
Chapter 21
HAY AND DELAY
A few days later, Rachel was setting out to run some errands when she saw Tom’s truck coming down the country lane in the opposite direction. She felt all knotted up inside for some strange reason as he slowed to a stop, winding down his window. Rachel did the same.
‘Hi, Rachel. Just to let you know I’ll be cutting the rented hay fields in the next couple of days, so while I’m all set up do you want me to come in and do yours for you too? The forecast’s looking good. Then we can row it up and maybe you can help me bale later in the week.’
‘Well, if you’re sure, that’d be great. Thanks so much. But, let me do the baling and then we’ll be quits, okay?’
‘Fair enough, and you can always pay me in puddings,’ he grinned. ‘Is it all going okay with that? It’ll be full on with converting the barn, I bet. I’ve seen the builders’ van toing and froing.’
‘I wish it was full on,’ she replied wryly. ‘It’s all come to a grinding halt yesterday, while we wait for missing kitchen units.’
Oh yes, Ian had caught up with her yesterday morning to enlighten them that there was at least a week’s delay on the kitchen units that she and Jill had chosen, which was unfortunately going to hold up all the other works. There wasn’t a lot they could do but wait and be patient.
‘Ah, sorry to hear there’s a hiccup.’ Tom’s face creased in sympathy.
‘It has been pretty hectic up until now though, and yes, it’s been keeping us out of mischief. Despite these last-minute hitches, we’re nearly there.’ Rachel was trying to stay positive.
‘Great, well, I’ll have to come and try it out. How long until you open, do you think?’
‘Well, hopefully we’ll be able to open in two or three weeks’ time, in time for the school summer holidays.’
She was going to spend the next couple of weeks getting the tearoom furniture sourced. She was excited to look around the local second-hand shops or any house sales with Eve and Mum to find chairs, tables and a dresser and then get them all painted up ready. And Jill was busy with a baking production line – the big new fridge they’d invested in was bursting with puddings already.
‘You will be full on then.’
‘So yes, help with the hay just now will be brilliant.’
A shadow then crossed his face. ‘Was everything okay the other night, by the way? You know, out in Kirkton?’ There was a loaded silence, the word ‘date’ left hanging, unspoken, between them.
‘Oh … at the pub, last week?’ Rachel suddenly felt a bit awkward. ‘Yes, that was just the electrician who’d been working for us. Seemed friendly enough, but he turned out to be a bit of a creep … I don’t think we’ll be seeing him around here again, somehow.’
‘Ah, okay, well sorry to hear it wasn’t the most memorable night out.’ Tom sounded relieved, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he spoke. ‘Right, well I’d better be getting on. See you about.’
‘Cheers, Tom, see you around.’
After checking out the Kirkton antique and bric-a-brac trader for any furniture for the Pantry, which turned up a dresser but no suitable tables and chairs – she didn’t think a set of Georgian furniture would quite suit the barn or the budget – and calling in at the agricultural merchant for some sheep wormer and washing powder they needed, Rachel decided to stop by at Granny Ruth’s on the outskirts of the village.
Having been so busy with all the works on at the farm, and with Granny Ruth no longer able to drive herself to visit at the farm, she hadn’t seen her for the past eight days, which wa
s quite unusual.
Rachel pulled the Land Rover up on the verge in the pretty lane surrounded by country fields. Four stone cottages were lined up behind an old low stone wall, where colourful snapdragon flowers had seeded and bloomed from between the crevices. Rachel walked to the door of Granny Ruth’s two-up two-down cottage, where a small-budded pale-pink rambling rose arched across in summer bloom. She knocked on the door and called a quick ‘Hello Granny!’ to announce her arrival, before opening the door into the cottage.
‘Oh hello, pet.’ Ruth was just getting up out of her armchair in her front room where she’d been crocheting. She liked to make bed throws and cushion covers which she gave to the local charity shop to sell. ‘Lovely of you to stop by, I’ll get the kettle on, shall I?’
‘Oh, yes please. And sorry we haven’t been over this week, it’s just been a bit crazy with everything going on at the farm.’ Rachel followed Ruth through to the kitchen.
‘Don’t you worry about that, pet. I’m fine. I know you and your mum have a lot on at the moment. Mind …’ she gave her granddaughter a thorough look over, ‘you are looking a bit pasty. You need to take care of yourself a bit more too.’
‘Hah, I’ll try. But someone’s gotta do it all, Granny, the farm won’t run itself.’ Who on earth would get everything done if she took a back seat on it? There was no resting up for a good while yet, Rachel mused. But she knew Granny’s heart was in the right place, and all she wanted was to see that Rachel was all right – even in her late seventies, Ruth’s nurturing instinct was still strong.
‘No, I suppose not. Now then, I made some cake yesterday, a banana loaf, would you like some, pet?’
‘Oh yes, that sounds lovely. Oh … and before I forget I brought you some of our eggs. I’ll quickly go fetch them from the truck.’ She and Jill always brought Ruth a regular supply of their fresh farm eggs.
‘Thank you. I bet you’ll be needing more hens with all the baking going on at the farm now.’
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