‘Oh, my God, Tom. Maybe it was a cry for help? Did you not think to consider that?’
‘Yes, of course I did, in hindsight. But at the time, no, I’d have never imagined …’
‘Jeez Tom, if you’d only said … thought to warn us, it might have changed something … it might have changed everything.’ Rachel was struggling to comprehend all this. The massive implications. She lay back on the pillows beside Tom, as a huge tear welled in her eye.
‘I’m so sorry, Rach. I don’t know what to say, I …’
He reached to touch her hand, which she pulled back instinctively.
She couldn’t stay here now. Couldn’t be near this man who’d had the chance to alter something so monumental. This man who’d witnessed her dad’s fragile state of mind … and done nothing. Someone she’d thought they could all trust.
She was up and out of the bed, pulling on socks, underwear, her T-shirt, in a frenzy.
Tom looked shocked and sat up in the bed, trying to explain. ‘Look Rachel, how could I have known? How could anyone? Like I said, he seemed a bit down, but nothing like I hadn’t seen before—’
Her anger flared. ‘Down, a bit down. He was fucking suicidal, Tom.’
Rachel bolted out of the room, down the stairs, and grabbed the keys to the quad from the kitchen side.
Go … get away, her bruised mind was telling her. But her heart felt so damn heavy as she closed Tom’s front door. She started the quad and drove off: angry, confused, scared to look back up at his bedroom window.
Later that afternoon, back at the farmhouse, Rachel was baking as therapy. She smashed the rolling pin down onto the bag of digestive biscuits. Crush, thwack, crush.
She had kept her head down all day. Getting on with the farm work and her shift in the Pantry – although avoiding the eleven o’clock rush when a certain someone was likely to pop in for his bacon roll. Mum had told her that Tom had called in, looking slightly anxious and asking after her.
He had also texted several times through the day. She hadn’t answered.
‘Everything all right, Rachel, love?’ said Jill, walking back into the kitchen after fetching washing from the line. She knew the signs of an aching heart.
‘Yes, fine.’ Rachel’s answer sounded curt, she realised; she needed to keep her bad mood in check. She’d already decided that Mum didn’t need to ever find out the truth. ‘Yes, sorry. Hi, Mum,’ her tone softened.
‘You know you could do that easily in the mixer,’ Jill prompted.
‘Ah yes, but this is far more satisfying.’ Another thwack.
‘O-kay.’ Jill knew when to stop delving. ‘I’ll just get this folded and put in a pile for ironing later, and then I’ll need to crack on with something for supper.’ She left her daughter to her baking, giving her a little space.
Next, Rachel began to melt the butter, popping a golden lump in a pan on the Aga’s slow hob. She then took it off the heat and stirred the biscuit crumbs through it, ready to spoon and shape the mixture into the base of a flan dish, in fact, two dishes – one cheesecake would be for the Pudding Pantry and the other for them as a family, with a spare slice or two reserved for Eve. Maisy was luckily over there on a play date just now with Amelia.
Rachel had already been out and picked a bowl of plump raspberries fresh from the garden, and had her other ingredients lined up ready to mix together – white chocolate, yet to melt, along with cream cheese and double cream. Concentrating on the stirring and beating helped ease Rachel’s frustrations, and she was soon lost to the task, checking the mix was at just the right consistency. After the biscuit bases had chilled in the fridge, she took them out and spooned out the deliciously sweet, cheesy mixture, layering the puddings with fresh raspberries and a little of Jill’s homemade raspberry jam. She then spooned another creamy layer over the top.
‘They’re looking good.’ Jill came back in, just as Rachel was about to pop them back into the fridge. Later, she’d add the soft, fruity-raspberry topping, drizzling it over to finish.
‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘So, do you want to talk about it, love? Was everything okay last night?’ Jill prompted, concerned for her daughter.
‘Yeah, fine.’ Rachel’s voice was way too chirpy.
‘You sure? You don’t seem yourself today at all, love. You can talk to me, tell me if anything’s bothering you.’
‘It’s nothing, honestly.’
‘If he hurt you, made you feel uncomfortable …’
‘Oh no, honestly. No, it’s not like that. It was nothing like that.’ No physical pain, anyway. But, she was never going to tell Jill the truth. It wouldn’t change anything. It would just hurt her mum to know, like it was hurting her deep inside. That sense of guilt, that they might have been able to stop it, change things, rising to the surface like a tidal wave, and wedging even deeper into her heart. ‘I just don’t think we’re that suited, that’s all. We just need to cool things, get back to being mates. It’s all just too awkward otherwise.’ Rachel smothered the facts.
‘Well, as long as you’re all right, love.’
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’
‘Okay, well, I’m always here if you ever need to talk …’
‘Thanks, I know …’ Rachel then busied herself at the washing-up bowl for a while, looking out across the fields from the farmhouse kitchen window; watching as heavy clouds – dark as bruises – moved across the sky.
Two days later, Rachel was heading into Kirkton when she saw Tom’s jeep coming down the lane in the opposite direction. Her heart went into freefall. Ah no, he was slowing down … this was going to be so awkward.
‘Hey.’ He wound down his window and gave a cautious smile. ‘Are you okay?’
Oh, bloody hell. She stopped too, they were still neighbours after all. But she really didn’t know how to act, what to say, and she was still so bloody angry with him.
‘I’m sorry, Rachel. If I could change anything, go back, have said something more … You know I’d do it in a heartbeat.’ His eyes were searching hers.
‘Yeah, well … you can’t turn back time, Tom.’ She sounded cool, detached.
‘I can understand how upset you feel, and I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you. But the other night … well, I’d thought we had something special going on. Really special …’
She stayed silent. The lane was empty, there was no need to drive away, but she desperately wanted to. She couldn’t cope with this right now.
‘Tom, it hurts too much. I can’t unknow what I now know. I don’t think there’s anything else to say or do now. Let’s just go back to how things were. Just as neighbours.’ She didn’t even say friends. ‘Look, I just don’t think it can work out in the long run,’ she blabbed.
‘Oh.’ His face said it all. He looked so goddamned disappointed.
If she followed this through, she might never be able to touch him again, be near him again. She held her breath. ‘Sorry, Tom. I think it’s better this way.’
‘Okay.’ He didn’t look like it was okay at all, he looked totally gutted. ‘Well, I guess I’ll see you around, then.’
He drove off, leaving Rachel feeling sick.
‘Good God, Rachel, you’ve been like a bear with a sore head this past week,’ Jill said, openly exasperated with her daughter. ‘Look, it’s quiet in here now, I can manage the Pantry fine, so why don’t you head back over to the farmhouse with Maisy?’
Rachel just gave her mum a look.
‘Honestly, you’ll be frightening away the customers at this rate,’ Jill continued.
Rachel knew she had been slamming down the crockery a bit on the drainer as she was washing up, but hadn’t realised quite how noisy or annoying that might be. She just felt so leaden, like a big dark cloud was crowding her mind.
She was trying so hard to put Tom out of her mind, but after that night with him, there were so many memories and moments that kept prodding at her, flashing up in her thoughts. Damn it, she missed him. But how could she even be th
inking about him … when he’d let her dad down in the worst possible way?
It would get easier, she told herself that. But, Mum was right, she couldn’t be taking it out on everyone else.
‘Sorry, Mum,’ she said. ‘There’s just quite a lot on my mind at the moment.’
Jill just nodded, as she made up a pot of tea for the next order.
‘And, it is quieter in here than I’d have hoped at this stage,’ admitted Rachel. ‘I think we need to think of more ways to try and raise awareness of the Pudding Pantry too. People in Kirkton seem to know of us now, but do you think we’re a little too off the beaten track for others to find us? We definitely need to consider more publicity and marketing – getting ourselves out there somehow.’
‘Yes, I agree we could do with some more advertising, but that can be quite costly. What about contacting the local tourist information centres again? Maybe leave some flyers with them, and look at getting a mention on their website or something?’
Rachel had already set up their own webpage for the Pantry, but maybe they could link in with the tourist board and other local attractions. It was definitely an avenue worth pursuing.
‘Yeah, I’ll look into it further, great idea Mum. Autumn’s approaching fast, and we need to keep the momentum up. I’ll get my thinking cap on. And, in the meanwhile, yes, I’ll take Maisy back over to the house, she’ll be getting bored spending her summer holidays sat in here so much. Just ring me if you need a hand though. You know, if a coach load of fifty turn up or something,’ she jested. ‘In our dreams.’
‘I will. Go on, get yourselves away.’
‘Come on petal, let’s go then,’ Rachel said to Maisy, who’d been sitting at one of the tables with her fairy glen book and some crayons and a pad. ‘What do you want to do at home? We could maybe get the craft stuff out and make something?’ Maisy loved drawing, painting, and creating things.
‘Ooh, yes, please. Can I get my bead set out and make some bracelets?’
‘Of course. That sounds a good plan.’
‘Here,’ said Jill. ‘There’s a couple of cupcakes to take back over with you, as a treat.’ She passed them a plate of scrummy-looking red velvet cakes.
‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘Thank you, Grandma.’ Maisy beamed happily.
Within the hour they’d had tea and cakes together and made two pink-and-silver beaded bracelets, one for Maisy and another to give to Amelia.
‘Can I see Amelia soon, Mummy?’
‘Yes, I expect so. Maybe she can come and play one day. I’ll give Eve a ring.’
‘Yippee!’
Rachel had been lying low for the past week as far as Eve was concerned, not wanting to tell her friend all that had happened with Tom. She had no idea that Rachel had stayed the night with him. That night and the morning after had been so momentous for Rachel that she hadn’t wanted to go into details with anyone, and she knew Eve would be prying for all the details as far as Tom was concerned! Some things were best kept to yourself. Also, there was no point in raking over everything if it was going nowhere.
She made the call to Eve, intending to talk about the girls meeting up.
‘Hi, Rach. Well, you’ve been quiet lately. What’s up?’
‘Nothing … well, it’s just been busy on the farm and with the Pudding Pantry, but everything’s fine. What about you?’
‘I’ve got a place booked in the craft tent at the Kirkton Country Show that’s coming up soon, so I’ve been full on trying to make lots of toys and gifts. I’ve got a production line going on at my place at the moment.’
‘Well, why don’t I help with Amelia then? Maisy’s just been asking if they can get together. I could take them swimming one morning or something. Give you a break.’ It was time she took Maisy out for a treat, especially whilst it was still the holidays. The Pudding Pantry had taken all their focus and energy lately.
‘Oh, could you, that’d be just brilliant.’
‘Yeah, I’ll just check which day’ll work best with Mum. I imagine one morning mid-week. I’ll call you back and confirm.’
‘Great stuff. And, we’ll catch up for a coffee sometime too, yeah?’
‘Yeah, maybe I can stop by when I drop Amelia back off that day. Just a quick one with you being so busy.’ She really hoped her friend wouldn’t mention Tom when she saw her next; Rachel didn’t know if her face might give her away, revealing all the confusing and painful emotions that lay behind the developments this past week.
The Kirkton Country Show: Eve had set Rachel thinking. It was always on the August bank holiday Monday and it was a big event in the local area, attended by thousands of people. Rachel had often gone herself, especially when Dad was still alive. There were stalls with people selling everything from homemade pies to ales and crafts, and there were livestock parades and prizes. She remembered there was a specific food tent too. The Pudding Pantry needed publicity and more sales – this could be the answer she was looking for and it was virtually on their doorstep.
Maisy was now sitting happily watching a programme about puppies on the TV. Rachel seized the moment and called Eve back.
‘Hi, Eve, I’ve just been thinking, how did you get booked on to the show? I know it’s a bit late in the day, but if we could get a stall in the food tent, it’d be great for us to get our name out there, and hopefully plenty of pudding sales too.’ For the first time in days she felt the stirrings of excitement.
Eve gave her the necessary contact details and wished her luck. It was a long shot, as spaces had probably been snapped up ages ago, but worth a try.
Rachel called the organiser right away, holding her breath, and, much to her delight and amazement, they were in! They’d had a late cancellation due to ill health. Rachel agreed to take the slot right away and paid a deposit over the phone. She had yet to break the news to Jill, who she hoped would be as thrilled as she was. It was just such a good opportunity. So, it’d be all hands to the pump for the next ten days – a proper pudding-making mission. They had a stall to fill at the Kirkton Show – whoop, whoop! – and it might just help take her mind off a certain Tom Watson.
Chapter 37
WISE WORDS AND LEMON MERINGUE PIE
‘I’ll take the eggs across to Grandma today, Mum,’ offered Rachel.
So much for taking her mind off Tom. Yes, they’d been damned busy getting a zillion puddings made in time for the Kirkton Country Show, but that man was still very much lodged in her head. Seeing Granny Ruth would make for a good change of scene. And it was a chance for them to have a well-needed catch-up, one on one – Maisy wanted to stay with her Grandma Jill as they were making some brownies together, so Rachel would head across alone.
‘Okay, thanks, that’ll be great. Send her my love, and see if she wants to come across for supper one evening. Maybe next Tuesday, after the show’s all done?’
‘Will do.’
Off she set, arriving ten minutes later outside Ruth’s countryside cottage. She found her granny out in the front garden with a pair of secateurs to hand, dead-heading her roses.
‘Oh, hello there, our lassie. How are you?’
‘I’m fine thanks, Granny, and how are you?’
‘Well, the old knees have been giving me gyp – been trying to get those pesky weeds out of the borders earlier on, it was a battle to get myself back up again, but other than that I’m grand.’
‘Good, that’s what I like to hear.’
‘Well, I think this calls for a cup of tea. I could do with a little break. Let’s go out the back and have a seat, hey?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Oh, and I made a lemon meringue pie yesterday, maybe we’ll have a slice of that too.’
‘Perfect.’ Ruth’s lemon meringue pies were a delight; all crispy short pastry with a layer of homemade citrus-sharp lemon curd, topped with softly baked meringue.
‘I had a feeling it’d come in handy when I baked it yesterday. You never know when someone might decide to call.’
<
br /> The door was always open at Granny Ruth’s, so visitors were a frequent possibility. She had lots of friends in the village.
Settled on Ruth’s wrought-iron bench in her small but pretty back garden, looking out over green-and-gold country fields, Granny suddenly looked serious. ‘So Rachel lass, what’s been troubling you this past week or so?’
Oh dear, maybe Mum had mentioned that she was acting a bit out of sorts. She really didn’t want to tell Granny Ruth the truth. It was too raw; it was an emotional mess involving her son, who’d died. They were all just beginning to find a way forward.
‘Oh, it’s nothing Granny …’ she batted away the question.
‘Rachel pet, I know nothing when I see it and this is not nothing. Do you think I’m stupid? And do you think not talking about your woes will help anybody?’
This was way too close to home. ‘Granny, I just don’t want to upset anyone.’
‘Look pet, the worst has already happened. I might be an old goat, but I want to look after the family that I have left, and if something’s troubling you lass, I’d like to help. Even if it means just talking it through. Try me, I’ve lived a full life. There’s not a lot that can shock or surprise me now.’
Rachel chewed a fingernail anxiously. Despite Ruth’s assurances, she was still terrified that this revelation could hurt her lovely granny.
‘Come on, lass,’ Ruth tried to tease it out of her. ‘Not talking didn’t help your dad now, did it?’
That was it, Rachel broke into sobs. Ruth had enveloped her in a hug within a second.
‘Tell me, pet.’
‘Oh Granny, that’s just it, Dad did try to talk … to Tom,’ Rachel managed to get it out. ‘Tom told me he saw Dad the night before … the night before … he killed himself. Dad spoke with him. He knew he was upset.’
‘Well, what did Tom say happened?’ Ruth sounded calm.
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