Rachel's Pudding Pantry

by Caroline Roberts

  ‘Ah, don’t want to bore you with it all. So, how’s it all going at the Pudding Pantry?’ He swiftly changed the subject.

  They sat chatting for a while longer, then Rachel said she’d better go and get back to the farm and Maisy.

  ‘Let me know, when you hear how Moss has got on.’

  ‘Of course. Will do. Thanks again, Tom.’

  They were poised on the front step. Their eyes held each other’s for a few seconds, and Rachel felt some instinctive pull not to leave.

  ‘Hey,’ he pulled her into his arms and gave her a hug. It had been a bit of an emotional day with the dog, and he realised that. It was lovely to be so close, and she felt safe and warm there in his arms, and then … a little bit sensual. She knew all too well now what lay beneath that shirt, and it was like all her nerve endings had woken up and were on high alert.

  Rachel looked up, her face tilting ever so slightly towards his. She could see the short dark stubble on his chin, was almost close enough to feel it in fact, just a shift of her lips and that would be it. A second more and she would know what it felt like to kiss Tom Watson.

  What would a kiss mean? Where would it lead?

  She stepped back just in time, feeling so out of kilter. ‘Right, okay, I’d better go. Thanks so much again.’

  To the quad, keys in, pedal down, into gear, and then go, go, go.

  Chapter 32

  TO KISS OR NOT TO KISS

  The next day, Rachel was chatting to Eve on the mobile as she did her early evening rounds of the sheep and cattle.

  ‘How’s Moss, Rach? I saw your mum in the lane earlier and she told me all about it. Poor thing, and what a shock it must have been for you, too.’

  ‘He’s doing good now, thanks. I picked him up first thing this morning and he’s just taking it steady, lying in his kennel today. Probably still a bit sore, but he’s fine.’

  ‘That’s good. And it sounds like Tom did well, spotting what had happened.’

  ‘Yes …’ Tom … A million crazy thoughts had been whirling around in her head all night, thinking about their near-miss kiss. Should she have gone with the moment, let it happen? Found out what it felt like to taste his lips on hers?

  ‘Rach … are you still there? Are you okay?’

  ‘We nearly kissed last night,’ she blurted. It suddenly all spilled out.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Me and Tom,’ Rachel confessed.

  ‘Wow, and you stopped it … you crazy woman. Right, well you need to come around and tell me all about it. I didn’t even think you fancied him.’

  ‘I didn’t … I don’t … Oh, I don’t know … It’s just kind of crept up on me.’

  ‘Hah, you’re finally seeing what we’ve all known for ages, how bloody gorgeous he is.’

  ‘Oh Eve, I really need to chat about it, it’s all so confusing. In confidence, of course,’ Rachel said seriously. She really didn’t want to get this wrong, a bit of friendly advice wouldn’t go amiss.

  ‘Of course, my love. Why don’t you come around this evening for an hour or so?’

  ‘That sounds good, I’ll check if Mum can look after Maisy, but I don’t think she had any plans for tonight.’

  Rachel and Eve were sitting in Eve’s back garden with a bottle of rosé between them under a pinky-orange sky that was deepening into dusk. It was a beautifully calm summer’s evening and still warm. Ben was out for the evening and Amelia was tucked up in bed.

  ‘So, Rachel, you dark horse you, you need to tell me all about it. How on earth have you been nearly kissing my all-time favourite crush?’

  ‘Well I’d obviously been upset about Moss, and he’d helped, and I was there at his place having a coffee … look, I really don’t know. He gave me a hug goodbye and suddenly it just felt like it should be so much more than a hug.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like a big problem to me. If you both like each other, that is.’

  ‘Yeah, but what if we had gone ahead and kissed, and then it ruined it all? What if he’s not quite feeling the same way, or maybe it’ll seem great for us both at the start but then it all falls down within a few weeks’ time … and then it’ll just be too hard to be friends any more?’ It had all been racing through her mind. ‘Since everything with Dad, Tom’s been such a constant, Eve. He’s always there if there’s a problem or if there’s any help needed on the farm.’

  ‘Isn’t that a good thing, Rach?’

  ‘Yes, and that’s just it, if we let it get personal and it all went wrong, we could wreck all that.’

  ‘Why do you think he does all that for you, Rach?’ Eve’s voice was gentle, understanding. ‘I’ve seen the way he looks at you lately.’

  ‘What way?’

  ‘Just kind of intently, and caring …’

  ‘Well, we are good friends.’ Rachel batted down the suggestion that he might be feeling this too and sipped her wine.

  ‘I think it’s so much more than that and you’re both too frightened to admit it.’ Eve looked right at her. ‘So, are you going to miss out on the chance of something special just because you’re afraid?’

  Was that it? After her messed-up relationship with Jake who just left at the first hurdle, after what had happened to her father? Too many men had left her life already. Was she afraid of losing another?

  ‘And,’ Eve continued, ‘isn’t that a good place to start? That Tom cares for you, supports you? Better than meeting some stranger down at the pub or something.’

  Rachel let out a long slow sigh. ‘Or an electrician who wouldn’t even know how to screw a lightbulb!’ She gave a wry smile.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Yes, but …’ It was hard to frame her thoughts. All she knew was that one minute she was desperate to be in Tom’s arms, to make that kiss a reality, but then she was backing away, building those walls around her heart. And what was weird was that these feelings had completely crept up on her in just a few short months. Might the feeling just go again as quickly as it came? Was it just lust, seeing him with his shirt off like that? Maybe they’d get it out of their systems, only for it to fizzle out and the whole relationship would be tarnished.

  ‘There’s no real rush I suppose, Rach. Why don’t you give yourselves a bit of time and see how things go?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Rachel took a long sip of her wine. ‘You won’t say anything to anyone, will you?’

  ‘Of course not. But hey, be careful you don’t miss out altogether. He might not wait around forever, you know.’

  She hadn’t thought about that … Tom with someone else. How would that make her feel? What if someone else did make a move on him? Someone else in his arms, his bed. Ooh, she felt a bit sick thinking about that.

  ‘When did love get to be so complicated, Eve?’

  ‘Wow, you’ve just mentioned the word love, Rach. Oh hun, when you’re scared you know it’s worth it. Because there’s so much more to lose.’

  Her friend’s words rang true. Crikey, was she in trouble.

  In bed, later that same evening, Rachel let her mind wander back to Tom. Well, it hadn’t been off him for long to be fair. She allowed herself to imagine the next few seconds after that moment on his doorstep; if she’d let his lips touch hers, felt his body pressed close against her. The warmth of him, the strength of him, from the firm muscles of his torso to the delicate curve of his top lip soft against hers. But if she tasted that, could she ever bear to lose it? And risk wrecking their friendship too? It was surely best left in her imagination.

  But, oh my, a sense of deep yearning was building. She realised she wanted him so much. How could she even act normally when she next saw him? She felt like she’d been zapped into some fifteen-year-old’s body with all the angst that went with it. Crazy, crazy woman.

  Lying in the dark, in the bed that she’d slept in on her own for years, suddenly felt so very lonely.

  Chapter 33

  ACHING ALL OVER

  Rachel woke in the early hours of the morning feeling like sh
e was burning up. The bedlinen was covered in sweat and she felt clammy all over.

  Okay, get up … go and get water … that’ll help … maybe take a couple of paracetamols.

  But trying to move, argh no, that was no good. Oh God, her body felt like it had been kicked around The Stackyard by a donkey. What the hell? And her head … her eyeballs ached in their sockets. No, she wouldn’t move just yet. Just stay here and lie still … just a while longer.

  She must have gone back to sleep and woke again as the morning light pierced through the crack in the curtains. Her throat felt parched, but there was no way she could get up just yet. She curled up on her side in the foetal position. The sheep and cattle would need checking on her usual morning rounds, but not yet, not yet.

  She must have dozed off once more, sleeping through her usual 7 a.m. alarm.

  ‘Rachel? Are you all right?’ Mum’s voice was somewhere near.

  She half-opened her bleary lids. Even that was a struggle.

  ‘Not well,’ she rasped. ‘Can I have some water?’

  ‘Oh, love.’

  She felt a hand press against her brow.

  ‘My, you’re burning up. I’ll go fetch you some water and paracetamol. What do you feel like?’

  ‘Shit … ah, sorry Mum.’ Even talking hurt. She paused, ‘Aching, headache … like I’ve been ten rounds with Macduff.’

  ‘Sounds like the flu, pet. It’s been going about the village. Old Mrs Peters was terrible bad with it, ended up having to go to hospital last week. She’s okay now though, thank heavens.’ Jill plumped the duvet around her. ‘Right, you stay here, and I’ll get you some water and painkillers.’

  ‘It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.’ Rachel tried to laugh, but even her ribs ached. ‘Aargh.’

  ‘Just lie there and rest, love.’

  Five minutes later, Jill came back with a large glass of water, the paracetamol pack and Maisy’s head thermometer. ‘Here, love.’ She passed the water across, once Rachel had tried clumsily to prop herself up against the pillows. ‘Maisy’s asking after you, I told her to stay downstairs just now and let you rest.’

  ‘Don’t want her to catch it.’

  ‘No.’

  Mum then passed her the tablets. ‘Here you go, take these straight away, they should help.’

  Taking tablets was usually simple for Rachel, but her throat felt so dry that they seemed to stick. She glugged the water, until they finally shifted. As she settled back into the pillows, Jill placed the thermometer against her forehead.

  ‘Crikey, it’s up at thirty-nine degrees. We’ll give it a little while and see if the tablets bring your temperature down a bit. But if it’s flu there’s not a great deal you can do, you just need to rest and drink plenty of fluids.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be fine with everything on the farm. Simon’s about, so we’ll get him to do the checks on the animals and I can manage the Pudding Pantry today.’ She sounded bright, breezy and efficient. Her lovely, wonderwoman Mum.

  ‘Sorry, Mum.’

  ‘No worries. You just get some rest, love,’ Jill soothed, the tone of her voice taking Rachel back to her childhood.

  Rachel nodded and took another sip of water. She was soon settling back down under the covers, and found herself dozing again. When she next looked at her watch it was almost two hours later, and she was drenched in a cool sweat. She drifted in and out of sleep once more.

  Mum brought her up some scrambled eggs on toast at lunchtime but she could only manage a couple of mouthfuls before feeling queasy. But after checking, Jill was happier that her temperature had come down a little.

  ‘Who’s covering in the barn?’ It suddenly dawned on her that Jill must have had to leave it. Had they had to close the Pantry?

  ‘It’s fine. Eve called in by chance, she and Amelia were happy to take charge for a few minutes.’

  ‘Aw, that’s kind of them.’

  ‘Eve sends her love and a big get-well-soon hug for you.’

  ‘Oh, thank her … Where’s Maisy?’

  ‘She’s with them just now. She’s desperate to see you, but I’ll keep her out of the way for today. You’ll probably be infectious and you need a bit of peace. Have you had enough there?’ Jill eyed the hardly touched scrambled egg.

  ‘Yeah sorry, not hungry. But thanks.’ Rachel’s voice was still a bit of a rasp.

  ‘No worries, it was just in case. Right, anything else you need? A cup of tea or anything?’

  ‘Just water’s fine. Thanks, Mum.’

  ‘Well, just shout if you need anything.’ They both gave a wry grin at that. ‘You can’t shout, can you, sorry love. I’ll come back and check on you in an hour or so.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Rachel felt terribly tired once more, and sighed as she lay back on her pillows. She hated feeling this lethargic but there was no way she could manage getting up.

  ‘Sleep well, love.’

  And Jill hushed the door to a close behind her. However old you were, it was still the best to have your mum around when you were poorly.

  The next day passed in a bit of a blur, with Rachel drifting in and out of sleep. But by early evening, she managed to sit up in bed and drink the glass of water that she found on the bedside table. She finally felt the stirrings of hunger too.

  She got herself up and to the bathroom to freshen up slightly, but still felt weak, so headed back to bed. Jill must have heard the movement, the giveaway creak of the upstairs floorboards, and was soon up to see her.

  ‘Feeling any better, love?’

  ‘Yeah, a bit. In fact, can I have some toast? Just buttered, please.’

  ‘Of course, you can. I’ll fetch some up for you shortly.’

  The toast waitress was in fact Maisy, who arrived beaming ten minutes later, with Jill close behind her.

  ‘Mummy!’

  ‘Hey, Maisy.’

  It was the first time Rachel had been properly ill since she’d had her little girl. They’d missed each other, and the relief was evident on Maisy’s face.

  ‘I couldn’t keep her away any longer,’ Jill explained.

  ‘Ah, it’s good to see you, petal. So, what have you been up to?’

  ‘Helping Grandma in the pudding place.’

  ‘It’s been all hands on deck. We’ve had a busy couple of days.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course. Sorry Mum, you’ve had it all to cope with. Just as we were getting established too.’

  ‘It’s fine. In fact, it’s been good. We’ve had quite a few customers through,’ said Jill positively.

  ‘And Tom helped too,’ stated Maisy.

  ‘He did?’

  ‘Yep, he was a waitress with me.’

  ‘Really? And don’t you mean a waiter, Maisy?’

  ‘Ah, yes that.’

  ‘He’d called in for his bacon roll this morning,’ Jill explained. ‘And then several people came in all at once. I’d told him you were in bed with the flu, so he just got stuck in for a half hour and served.’

  ‘He was good, wasn’t he, Grandma?’

  ‘He was indeed.’

  Aw, bless him, Rachel thought. It was a bit different from handling cattle, sheep and driving the tractor, she mused.

  ‘Here’s your toast, Mummy. Grandma has the tea as it’s hot. And when you’ve had that, I’m coming back to tell you a bedtime story.’

  There was no point arguing, Maisy had her bossy tone on and had obviously set her mind to it. She was taking charge and looking after her mummy, and that was sweet. So, ten minutes later, Rachel was listening to a half-made-up version of the fairy glen book, with Maisy adding her own details when the words got a bit too tricky. There were wishes granted and magical spells. Rachel particularly liked the bit when the boy fairy became a waiter for that evening’s fairy supper of sparkly cupcakes, a pure fabrication from the original story on Maisy’s part, but it did make Rachel smile.

  As Maisy kissed her goodnight, even though it was still early evening, an
d whispered ‘Sweet dreams’ to her, Rachel found her eyelids feeling so heavy. There must actually be something in the soothing tones of a bedtime story, as she slept like a baby after that.

  Rachel was back on form and on Pudding Pantry duty a couple of days later, giving her mum a few well-earned hours off after juggling a thousand jobs. She was going to spend some time with Maisy, and pop into Kirkton with a few top-up puddings for Brenda at the Deli.

  There was a steady flow of customers that morning, including a rather handsome farmer who came in for his coffee and bacon roll elevenses, which sent Rachel’s heart a-fluttering.

  ‘Good to see you back,’ Tom grinned. ‘Feeling better?’

  ‘Just about. It was a rotten do though. Knocked me for six.’

  ‘I knew you must be bad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you have a morning off, let alone a day or two. It’s not often a farmer doesn’t get out of his or her bed.’

  ‘Ah, I was rough all right. Glad to get rid of it and be back on my feet again. Poor old Simon’s been doing all the farm work and Mum’s been trying to keep things going here and with Maisy. She looks knackered, bless her. Oh, and thanks for helping out the other day, by the way. Maisy tells me you made a rather lovely waitress.’ Rachel smiled cheekily, picturing Tom in a frilly baking apron.

  ‘Hah, I did indeed. Well, it was only right to lend a hand where I could, and it meant I got my bacon roll a bit quicker that way. Actually, I know you’ve all had a lot on, so,’ he suddenly sounded a little nervous, which wasn’t like Tom, ‘I was wondering if you’d like to come around to mine for supper one night … the three of you, I mean. Bring Maisy and your mum too.’

  ‘Oh well, that sounds great, yes. We’d love to.’ She broke into a smile. Someone else cooking their tea and, she had to admit, a chance to spend some time with Tom did sound rather good.

  ‘Don’t expect anything fancy, mind,’ he warned, with a grin. ‘I’m not the best cook. But I’m sure I’ll be able to rustle up something. Just see what day suits and let me know, I’m busy Friday night, but any other day through the week would be fine.’