Rachel's Pudding Pantry

by Caroline Roberts

‘She hardly knows you, Jake. And you, really what do you know about looking after little girls?’

  ‘It can’t be that difficult. I’m only going to buy her some ice cream and take her to the beach. She’s my daughter, Rach. I thought you’d be pleased that I’ve come up and made the effort.’ He looked irked.

  Rachel knew she had to tread carefully. She knew what Jake’s temper looked like. ‘Yeah, it’s good you’ve come to see her,’ she conceded, not wanting to get into a conflict so soon. ‘It’s just been so out of the blue. It’s probably a bit overwhelming for her. Look, why don’t you come and see her again tomorrow, but stay here? She can show you around the farm or something? You can get to know each other.’ Under our supervision, Rachel was really thinking. ‘Then, if all goes well, you can take her out over the weekend for that beach trip.’ She felt that was a reasonable enough compromise, though she knew she’d be anxious every second her little girl was away with him.

  ‘All right, though I don’t know why you think I can’t handle it.’ There was a hard edge to his tone. She remembered it from years back.

  ‘It’s just about making sure it’s right for Maisy, that’s all, Jake.’

  ‘Fine, well, I’ll get away then. I’ll be back in the morning, say ten-ish?’

  ‘Okay.’

  They finished on a frosty note with each other, but Rachel was doing her best to stay polite whilst protecting Maisy. She felt she had every right to put some boundaries in place, with Jake having been absent for so long.

  Being a parent wasn’t optional in her book.

  Rachel headed up to the bathroom a few minutes later to find that Jill had already started the shower for Maisy.

  ‘I’ll take over now if you want, Mum.’

  ‘All okay, love?’ Jill was perched on the closed lid of the toilet seat. Her brow was creased in concern.

  ‘Yeah, fine.’ They’d chat some more once Maisy was safely tucked up in bed. ‘Nearly done in there, petal?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘Ye-es,’ Maisy sounded tired.

  ‘Come on then. I’ve got the big fluffy towel here all ready.’

  ‘I’ll come and kiss you goodnight once you’re in bed, love,’ said Jill.

  ‘Okay, Grandma,’ her voice was echoey from the confines of the shower.

  Rachel leaned in to turn off the water. She bundled her little girl up and dried her off, wishing she could keep her safe and warm and near like that all the time. She smelt so gorgeously of strawberry shower gel and clean fresh skin.

  Pyjamas on and into bed next. Grandma Jill popped in for her goodnight kiss and cuddle as promised, followed by Granny Ruth who was staying over for the night, then Rachel perched herself on the side of her girl’s bed with its unicorn duvet cover.

  ‘Has he gone?’ Maisy asked, suddenly looking vulnerable.

  ‘Yeah, but just for this evening. It was getting late. He’s coming back tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘So how did it go … with your dad?’ Rachel wanted to give Maisy the chance to talk if she needed.

  ‘Okay,’ Maisy sounded non-committal. She looked as though she was thinking hard, trying to untangle her emotions. After a second or two she added, ‘I think he’s a learner dad.’

  ‘Hah, I think you’re right.’ Rachel smiled. Trust Maisy to get it spot on. ‘So, are you okay with seeing him again tomorrow? Here on the farm?’

  ‘Ye-es.’ The little girl nodded seriously.

  ‘Okay. And you know you can chat or tell me anything. It’s all a bit new for you with your dad, I know.’ Rachel wanted to reassure her that she was there for her if needs be, in this new territory they’d found themselves in.

  Maisy nodded, then said, ‘Can I have my story now?’

  ‘Of course. The fairy glen one again?’ It seemed to be her favourite lately, especially after the picnic afternoon and playing in the fern-shaded stream.

  Rachel took up the book from the bedside table and started reading, but it wasn’t long before Maisy’s eyes closed. In fact, Rachel’s eyelids were drooping too; she would have loved to curl up and join her.

  Jill and Granny Ruth were in conflab over a cup of tea as Rachel came back down to the kitchen.

  ‘I’ve made you a brew,’ Jill said. ‘It’s here on the table.’

  Rachel joined them, pulling out a chair as a small sigh escaped her lips.

  ‘So how is the little lass?’ asked Granny.

  ‘She seems okay. A bit overtired. But it’s a hell of a lot for her to take in. You’d think he’d have given us some kind of a warning, so we could have prepared her a bit.’

  ‘Typical Jake,’ Jill tutted. ‘What about you, love? How are you feeling?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh Mum, I’m wary. Can’t help wondering what’s behind all this. But I can’t stop him seeing her, can I?’

  ‘No pet, you can’t, not when he’s her father. But you can keep some control on it though,’ Granny Ruth added.

  ‘Yes, I’ve tried to do that already.’

  ‘So, what was he saying?’ Jill queried further.

  Rachel repeated their earlier conversation in the garden before he left, explaining that he was just up for a few days – for now, anyway.

  ‘I can’t stop him seeing her, I know that, but I just don’t trust him. Well, none of us really know him, do we? He was always so lax, so unreliable. Does he even know how to supervise a child? And then, what if he does stick around, raising her hopes, and then buggers off again like the last time? ’Scuse my language, Granny.’

  Ruth merely nodded as though she realised the situation merited it.

  ‘I know love, it’s hard. I’m wary too, I have to admit,’ Jill agreed. ‘But I suppose we have to give him a chance.’

  ‘And then … what worries me even more,’ all this had been spinning around in Rachel’s mind since he’d turned up, ‘what if he does stay around? What will he want from her, from us? Weekends with her, a split week? What will his influence be on her? I like knowing where she is, what she’s doing. She’s so young, she needs routine, a steady life, especially after everything that happened with Dad.’

  ‘Let’s not jump the gun now, pet,’ Granny Ruth said wisely. ‘Let’s see what happens over these next few days and take it from there, hey?’

  ‘He wants to take her to the beach. I said no to tomorrow, it’s too soon, and I want to see how he is with her. So, he’s coming here to visit her at the farm tomorrow instead.’

  ‘Well that sounds sensible,’ Jill said. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m wary too – on high alert in fact – and I’d do anything to protect you and Maisy. But he might have changed a bit, you know, grown up.’

  ‘I bloody well hope so.’ Rachel took a slug of tea. Argh, it was all so frustrating and the timing could certainly have been better. ‘We need to think about being prepped for tomorrow at the Pudding Pantry too, don’t we?’

  ‘Yes, we do,’ Jill answered pragmatically. ‘On the bright side, today went well and we’re all stocked up with plenty of puddings. I’ll bake a few fresh scones and a Victoria sponge first thing in the morning and we’ll be ready to open as planned at ten-thirty. That’ll give us plenty to think about, anyhow. Try not to worry too much about Maisy, love. It’ll all work out somehow.’

  ‘Tomorrow’s another day, pet.’ Granny Ruth smiled gently. All her years of experience, her life, her losses and her loves seemed to be carried in that smile, and it soothed Rachel.

  ‘Thank you,’ she responded. Her family was so precious to her.

  Chapter 29

  A BRAVE NEW DAY

  Rachel woke up in a cold sweat with a feeling of panic racing through her veins. Had it been a bad dream or a memory? She came to, realising that she was in the warmth of her double bed, safe in the farmhouse. It was reminiscent of a long-forgotten time – when she was just Maisy’s age – and she’d had a nightmare in the very same bedroom. She couldn’t even remember what the dream was all about now, but the same feelings of fear and panic were rush
ing back.

  Dad had come in back then when she was a little girl, must have heard her cry out, with his deep voice telling her to hush, followed by a bear hug and his soothing words that all was well. They had crept downstairs hand in hand, where he warmed milk on the Aga and they sat together in the comfy chair, talking about all the animals on the farm.

  Rachel had been learning to tell the time and the big and little hands on the clock were both at the very top. Dad explained that meant it was midnight, and he said that Mum was fast asleep in bed. It was just the two of them up. He assured her that when she went back to bed in a minute everything would be fine until morning came … and it was … at least for the next seventeen years.

  Maybe it was thinking about Maisy and Jake’s shock appearance that had irked her, or the worries with all the developments on the farm … with their big opening day ahead. She wasn’t quite sure what had set her spiralling down memory lane. But just remembering Dad and that feeling of having his arms around her was comforting. Rachel allowed herself to doze once more, until her alarm announced the new day.

  Friday the 12th July, and it was now ten twenty-five on the official opening day of the Pudding Pantry at Primrose Farm. Jill was behind the counter, which was laden with freshly baked goodies, and Rachel was about to swing the barn door wide open, ready for their first customers.

  They’d done it, they’d only gone and bloody well done it. The room itself seemed to glow with pride. The honey-coloured walls shone and Eve’s toys and crafts were carefully placed on the two dressers. And the spread of food – just wow. Her mum had excelled herself with all the baking. Granny Ruth was keeping an eye on Maisy back at the farmhouse for them until Jake arrived. It really was a team effort. Rachel raised a big thumbs up and grinned across at her mum as she turned the handle on the new barn door.

  ‘Ta-dah!’ She opened the door with a flourish and used an old heavy iron that she’d found in the barn as a stopper. Rachel had asked Granny Ruth about it, and apparently the iron had once belonged to her mother; she’d warm it on the old range in the kitchen, ready to press their clothes and laundry. It was lovely to have another farmhouse relic, passed down through the generations.

  Despite Rachel’s excitement, there was no-one there waiting to come in just yet.

  She sighed. ‘The crowds haven’t quite come flocking,’ she called across to Jill cheerily, poking her head out to check the parking area in the yard. ‘Shall we have a quick coffee?’

  ‘Now that sounds like a plan. I’ll get another practice in on this machine.’

  They’d managed, at the last minute, to source a great second-hand coffee machine that frothed, gurgled and made the most delicious fresh coffee, though Jill was still getting to grips with the technicalities of it. (It had bamboozled Granny Ruth completely.)

  ‘Now which bit do I fill with the ground coffee again?’

  ‘Here,’ Rachel pointed. ‘And about two-thirds high for a nice strongish cup.’

  ‘Ah yes, that’s it. Got it now.’

  Five minutes later, the two of them were sitting at the table nearest the door sipping their drinks. They got momentarily excited at the sound of an engine, but the little red van pulling up only announced the postman, Trevor. Mind you, Rachel’s selling skills won them their first customer with a takeaway coffee, and she told him all about their delicious bacon rolls, scones and selections of puddings to tempt his tastebuds for another day.

  ‘Have a good day, Trevor!’ they called after him as he set off, having delivered their mail. Rachel hoped the brown envelopes amongst the pile weren’t bills; with all the set-up costs, money seemed to be leaching out before any was coming back in. The next few months were going to be a fine balancing act.

  Jake arrived to see Maisy just before eleven – his timing as unreliable as ever. They still hadn’t had an official customer yet, and Rachel couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

  ‘You go and take Jake across to the farmhouse,’ offered Jill. ‘I’ll keep an eye out here ready for the big rush,’ she added wryly.

  ‘Okay, thanks.’ She headed out to meet her ex. ‘Hi Jake,’ she said, ‘I thought we’d agreed ten o’clock?’ She looked at her watch pointedly.

  ‘Ah, I was just sorting out a few things at my digs, whilst I had some internet there.’

  ‘Okay.’ She decided to let it slide, trying to keep this adult and mature. ‘Well, Maisy’s over in the farmhouse. I’ll take you across.’

  ‘Right you are.’

  Maisy was sitting with Granny Ruth at the kitchen table, her focus intent on a half-finished jigsaw puzzle.

  ‘Hey, Maisy.’ Jake grinned across at her.

  ‘Oh, hi-i …’ She looked up for a second and then fitted the piece in her hand into the puzzle.

  ‘Well done, Maisy,’ praised Granny.

  ‘Do you want a go?’ Maisy asked Jake, offering him a piece from the table.

  ‘Yeah, why not.’ He stood at her shoulder frowning. It seemed to take a while before he worked it out. ‘There.’ He sounded relieved.

  ‘Good.’

  ‘So, are we going to have a look around this farm of yours? I’m sure there’s lots you can show me, sweetheart.’

  ‘Yes, o-kay.’ Rachel heard the touch of hesitancy in her daughter’s voice.

  It was all so new, this fragile relationship. Was it going to blossom or burn? Rachel couldn’t help but wonder. But she had to stand back and let them both try. It was only fair.

  ‘Just stay near the farmyard area, Maisy, okay. You can go and see if Pete’s about in the Low Field, just call him at the gate though. Pete’s her pet lamb, who’s all grown up now,’ she explained to Jake. ‘Then, there’s the chickens to see. You can take Moss with you, give him a bit of a walk. I think he’s bored with us being in the barn so much lately and he’s not allowed in.’

  ‘Yes, all right, Mummy.’

  ‘Then when you’re all done come back to the Pudding Pantry. You can come and have some lunch there, the two of you.’

  ‘Ah cheers, Rach. That sounds cool, Maisy. And, we get to try out the food in there.’

  ‘It’s good. Tom loves the sticky toffee pudding, doesn’t he, Mummy?’ Maisy was just being her usual chatty self, but Jake’s eyebrows rose sharply at the mention of Tom.

  ‘Does he now?’ was all he uttered in a slightly disgruntled tone.

  ‘Yep,’ Rachel said matter-of-factly. What was it to him who Tom was, or if there was anything between them? Jake had fled their lives years ago. ‘Okay then, get your wellies on ready, Maisy, and have a nice time.’

  Maisy got off her chair and headed for the porch. ‘Come on then, Ja …’ She stopped short, still unsure what to call him. ‘I’ll show you the chickens first. There’s this really funny one with fluffy bits around her legs. She never stops clucking. We call her Clucky.’ There was Maisy chatting away, so innocently.

  Rachel and Granny shared a look as Maisy led him out by the hand. They both knew there were risks, but Maisy was still on home ground – for now at least.

  At eleven minutes past eleven – Rachel knew the exact time as she had been watching the clock in the barn avidly – their first official Pudding Pantry customer arrived.

  An old but well-cared-for Fiat Punto parked up in the yard and in came Frank, a pleasant old chap who Rachel recognised. He was a local, living nearby in Kirkton.

  ‘Morning ladies,’ he said, doffing his flat cap. He had a mop of thick white hair, and a friendly sparkle about his blue eyes.

  ‘Welcome Frank, take a seat,’ said Jill with a warm smile. ‘And what can we get for you? Or would you like a few moments to take a look at the menu?’

  ‘Well, I’d love a cup of coffee to start, and I’ll take a little look to see what there is to tempt me.’ He picked up the cream card menu that was propped next to the jam-jar vase of sweet peas in the middle of the table.

  ‘There’s lots on display in the counter too, Frank. There might be something there that takes
your fancy,’ Rachel added.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘White coffee, Frank?’ Jill asked, ready to get to grips with the coffee machine.

  ‘Yes, please. With hot milk.’

  ‘I’ll make you a nice frothy one then. Here goes,’ she added as an aside to Rachel, pouring milk into a small stainless-steel jug. She was getting the hang of it already.

  They let Frank have a few minutes to study the menu, then Rachel walked across to see if he wanted to order some food.

  ‘Hey, it’s done out lovely in here, mind. You’ve done a grand job, girls. Brenda was telling me all about it down in the village. Thought I’d take a trip up and see for myself.’

  Good old Brenda, spreading the word for them.

  ‘I’ve had one of your chocolate puddings from there too. Lovely jubbly. Just like my Mary used to make. And all I had to do was warm it in the oven, and I found a tin of custard I had to go with it. Delicious.’ His wife, Mary had died several years ago now. Rachel remembered them as being a sweet couple; they always went everywhere together. It must be so hard losing someone you’ve been with all those years, whether you had reached old age together, or were younger like Mum and Dad. Loss was all around them. But it hadn’t stopped them, had it? Here they were, at the start of their brave new venture. And here was Frank out and about, taking small bold steps in his new life without Mary.

  ‘Here’s your coffee, Frank.’ Mum looked so proud that she’d fathomed out the machine all by herself this time, and the cup of frothy coffee did look barista standard.

  Rachel grinned and swelled with pride. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Well then, I think I might have to try some jam roly-poly with custard. Brings back memories, that does. Takes me right back to being at home as a small boy. Sunday tea-time treat that was. My mam’s special.’

  ‘Well, I hope I can do it justice,’ Jill replied.

  ‘Aye, I’m sure you will, bonny lass.’

  Just then, two ramblers arrived. They were a middle-aged couple, who told Jill they’d taken an early-morning walk in the Cheviots and were on their way back down to Kirkton and were delighted to stumble upon the Pudding Pantry.