Rachel's Pudding Pantry Read online

  ‘What a palaver.’ Mr Mac was shaking his head. ‘Mark my words, I’ll be in touch about the damage, mind.’

  Oh yes, she was sure he would. He’d probably be miffed that she’d rejected his measly offer on the land too. She sighed to herself; yet more money to come out of the dwindling pot. Argh, there was always something.

  As the old farmer turned his quad to go, she heard him mutter, ‘Tsk, bloody women playing at farming.’

  Rachel felt her face flame, and the heat rise up her neck. The damned cheek of it. Things went wrong at times with all farmers, men or women. In fact, she was sure there was a time when she was little when his cows had made their way into Primrose Farm. Her dad had been furious as there’d been some risk of disease. Some people sure did have short memories and quick tongues.

  Chapter 18

  PROSECCO, PLANS AND MINI MERINGUES

  The next morning, once Maisy was at school, Rachel and Jill were out fixing the damaged fence from where the cattle had escaped. It was a gorgeous morning, warm and dry, the birds singing happily in the green-leafed hedgerows around them. From here, they could see all the way across their grassy fields down to the valley where Primrose Farm nestled.

  Jill stood up tall, stretching out her stiff back from all the physical work, and took in the view. ‘It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?’ The words came out almost as a sigh. ‘It’s far too precious to lose.’

  Rachel stopped tugging at the rotten fence post, and pulled herself up tall, drinking in the gorgeous vista next to her mum. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, wondering where Jill’s words might be leading.

  ‘I’ve been thinking over everything these past few days, love. And you’re right, life does need to change here. We’ve been stuck in a rut these past few years. Well, we’ve just been trying to get through one day at a time, I suppose.’

  ‘That’s all we could do, Mum. It was the only way to make it through,’ Rachel answered, knowing just how hard life had been. In the early days after Dad’s death, it was hard just to get up, get on, to even bother to make supper. But having a farm-load of animals all waiting for you, and a young child who needed you, made you rally, drag your body out of that bed, and get on with it.

  ‘Well, it’s high time we started looking forward, Rachel. Primrose Farm needs a future, and your idea of having something based here seems the right way to go. I’ve been mulling it all over and … yes, why not, I think we should go for the Pudding Pantry plan. At least, let’s give it a try, anyhow.’

  ‘Wow, that’s great, Mum.’ Despite the words, and her joy that Jill had made a huge leap forward, Rachel couldn’t help but sigh herself; last night’s research into funding and grants had kept throwing up stones at her, in fact massive bloody boulders. ‘But … the problem is, I’ve been looking further into applying for grants, and for the works we need, we’d have to find sixty per cent of the set-up costs. Even with the rent we’re getting from the fields, and even if we saved for six months, we still couldn’t possibly put by enough. The Pudding Pantry couldn’t happen until next year at least, maybe not even then. I’m sorry Mum, I know I got all carried away with the idea, but we don’t have the funds we need to start up with. I’ve been looking at all angles and I just don’t know how we can do it.’

  Mum was quiet for a few seconds, looking out across the green rolling landscape of their farm with the hedgerows of hawthorn now studded with confetti-style May blossom and their fields dotted with sheep.

  ‘I’ve been doing some research too, and yes, I’ve seen you need to contribute a capital sum for the rural grants scheme. But there’s something I haven’t told you.’

  Rachel turned to face her mum, Jill having her full attention now.

  ‘You see, I have some savings. Nothing major. I was keeping it as a stand-by, as a little last-resort pot for Maisy’s future. It was from a small life insurance your dad had set up many years ago. It’s only a couple of thousand but it might just be enough to make a start on those quotes you’ve had for the work in the barn.’

  ‘Oh, but Mum, no, if you’ve kept the money back with that in mind, then we must keep it for Maisy.’

  ‘I kept it for Maisy’s future, yes. And the more I think about it, this, this Pudding Pantry idea, it is Maisy’s future and ours. If the farm can’t survive as it is, then we all go under and there’ll be no farm or future for us here anyway.’

  ‘Oh … I’m not sure what to think. It had all seemed so far out of reach, but now …’ Rachel was stunned, having told herself it could never happen. Yes, it was a risk. Mum’s last savings at stake, along with the future of the farm, but they were at risk of losing that already. ‘What if it doesn’t work out though, Mum? Just as you’d feared?’

  ‘Is anything guaranteed in life, Rachel? Look at what happened to us all before …’

  Rachel took in the words as she gazed across the green fields of their valley, pausing to look at the farmhouse itself. She saw the barn there opposite it, like a beacon of promise, its stone walls lit honey-gold in the morning sunshine.

  ‘Well?’ Jill was waiting for her response.

  Rachel turned towards her mum. She looked at her face and couldn’t help but notice the fresh twinkle in her eyes – a sparkle of promise, and hope.

  ‘Wow, okay then, yes! I think we should do it. For the three of us.’ Rachel’s mouth stretched into a broad grin.

  ‘For the three of us,’ Jill echoed, taking her daughter’s hand in hers.

  There was a palpable sense of excitement at Primrose Farm with Pudding Pantry plans afoot. They’d chosen a local building company to work with (who’d given a reasonable quote and had a sound reputation) who could start in four weeks’ time. That would take them towards mid-June. The work itself, they’d been advised, should take around one month, so the Pudding Pantry might be open by mid-July – how amazing – and hopefully just in time for the school summer holidays.

  In the meanwhile, Jill was still baking the popular sticky toffee and chocolate puddings for the Kirkton Deli. The farm kept Rachel busy, but with the cows now calved and all the animals out in the fields, farm life was far simpler and she had more time to help Jill.

  They needed to get an order made up quickly, as Brenda had phoned them to say she’d had a flurry of sales, so later that day Rachel, Jill and Maisy set up an afterschool pudding packaging production line. The radio was on, and they were singing away to one of Mum’s old favourites, the happy beat of The La’s ‘There She Goes’. Jill was pouring rich toffee sauce over the sponges that she’d already baked in their foil containers, Rachel was in charge of lidding, and Maisy set out the material squares, ready for Rachel to wrap and tie with a bow. Maisy then had to stack the finished puddings very carefully, checking they stayed flat to avoid spillage, in the cardboard box ready for delivery.

  ‘You’re doing a great job, Maisy,’ Rachel praised. She could see how serious her little girl was, with a furrow of concentration on her brow, making sure she didn’t tilt the cartons as she carried them.

  ‘Were there any pudding spares, Grandma?’ Maisy asked hopefully, as she put the last one into the box. ‘I do think we should try them to make sure they’re okay.’

  ‘Yes, quality control is essential,’ Rachel agreed with a grin.

  ‘Oh yes, I know what you two are like. There’s a chocolate one already in the fridge that I kept back.’

  ‘That’s what we like to hear.’ Rachel gave a big thumbs up to Maisy, who started giggling away.

  ‘Got to keep the workers happy,’ Jill commented with a smile.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Maisy.

  ‘Absolutely, or we’ll go on strike, won’t we, Maisy?’ Rachel jested.

  The farmhouse kitchen was a happy buzzy place to be just now. The pudding production line had brought it back to life.

  That evening, Rachel was browsing on Instagram and Google for interior design inspiration – on a budget. She wanted the barn to look pretty with a country feel, and be welcoming and cosy. She�
�d printed off some pictures of white-painted wooden furniture, and for lighting she’d spotted the most gorgeous glass chandeliers that could hang from the wooden rafters. They would add a touch of sparkle and warmth, though in reality, she mused, they probably couldn’t afford something like that. Then, there was the counter area to create, but she struggled to visualise how it might all work together.

  What she needed was an artistic friend in tow. So, she caught up with Eve at the school pick-up the next day, telling of her design thoughts.

  ‘Ooh, this all sounds great, Rach. You know what, me and you need to brainstorm all this properly. Come up with all sorts of ideas for your Pudding Pantry and choose the best ones to move forward with, then of course you can chat them over with Jill. What do you think? You could call around one evening this week?’

  It sounded a fab idea, and better to thrash out her thoughts with a creative friend before launching them half-formed on Jill just yet.

  ‘Yes, that sounds great, and I’m sure Mum’ll be happy to be keep an eye on Maisy for an evening.’

  ‘Perfect, just let me know which day. Bring your pics along and any of your ideas so far. And,’ she added with a cheeky wink, ‘we need to plan over prosecco. Nothing breeds creativity like a bit of gorgeous fizz.’

  ‘Now you’re talking! Sounds good to me, thanks Eve.’

  Thursday was the agreed prosecco planning night.

  Rachel had settled Maisy in bed, and Jill was going to use the time to make another batch of chocolate puds to build up supplies. Then she was planning on making the most of a quiet night to have a lovely bubble bath and read her latest crime book.

  ‘Off you trot,’ she’d said to Rachel. ‘Don’t you be worrying about time, you go off and enjoy yourself.’

  Rachel headed over to Eve’s on the quad. She could always walk back and fetch it in the morning if the prosecco proved plentiful. It was a mild night, a little cloudy but warm. The evenings were drawing out now that they’d reached mid-May, so it was still light, with an early smattering of stars starting to appear. Eve greeted her with a hug and a kiss at her cottage front door, suggesting they sit outside in her back garden.

  ‘There isn’t actually much space inside at the moment anyhow, what with all my latest crafting mid-flow – the place is bursting at the seams with felt and woollen balls and sequins – it’s like a haberdashery on a high!’ Eve laughed.

  ‘Oh, can I see what you’re making?’ Rachel loved all the things that her clever, artistic friend created. Eve was so talented. Rachel also wanted to see if there might be some crafts that would be ideal to sell in their Pudding Pantry shop. Oh yes, she had decided a little shop area could work well within the tearooms and had already mooted this with Jill who was more than happy with that – she couldn’t wait to share the idea with Eve. They would have puddings for sale to take away, as well as a counter full of goodies to eat in, but Rachel could also imagine a dresser filled with Eve’s gorgeous craft creations – children’s toys and gifts, wooden wall plaques, pretty candle-holders and more. It was a chance to showcase her friend’s talent, and return the favour for all the help she’d offered on the packaging designs – as yet, she’d insisted on not taking a penny from them.

  ‘Come on then, come and have a look in the dining room, also known as my craft zone. I’ll warn you though, it really has taken over.’

  Amongst the scraps of material, needle sets, coloured card, scissors, balls of wool, and reels of ribbons, were some finished toys made of felt and fabric. They were the cutest things – all animal designs: a red squirrel, hare, hedgehog, mice, sheep, cows, dogs, and cats, dressed in tweed waistcoats or mini floral pinafores, and some with just bow ties (the hedgehog must have been hard to clothe!). They were similar to the finger puppets that Eve had made for Maisy’s party, but were much bigger and easier for a child to hug.

  ‘Aw, these are adorable, Eve.’

  Then, Rachel spotted some of the woodwork items stacked up on Eve’s dresser – hearts and stars and hanging plaques bearing little messages like ‘Home Sweet Home’ or ‘Life Is Beautiful’. She particularly like the distressed-wood drinks coasters with ‘Gin Time!’ and ‘Prosecco Moments!’ There was also a box of handmade cards. Rachel sifted through them, an array of 3D and cut-out designs all crafted beautifully – ‘Happy Birthday’, ‘Thank You’, ‘New Baby’ and more. These were all things that would surely sell well in a countryside shop and café.

  ‘You’re amazing, really.’ Rachel smiled broadly at her friend. She then spotted some delightful bunting flags strung on white satin ribbon just perfect for a new baby’s nursery. ‘Ooh, this is gorgeous Eve, do you think you could make me some bunting for the Pudding Pantry? Something vintage looking … I’m not sure what colour schemes to go for yet, though I have seen some pretty white wooden furniture designs. We’ll have to have a think on what might work best.’

  ‘Of course. And yes, we’ll brainstorm all things puddings and tearooms and barns. Let’s go and get a glass of prosecco poured,’ Eve announced with a smile.

  They were soon sitting outside in the twilight hush at a little wrought-iron table for two with a glass of prosecco to hand, crispy-sweet mini meringues that Eve had made and a bowl of strawberries between them.

  ‘I’m so excited for you and this project.’ Eve grinned. ‘You’ve all been through so much, and I’m so proud of you taking this new step forward. It’s brave and it’s wonderful, and I really do think it can work.’

  ‘I bloody well hope so.’ Rachel took a sip of prosecco.

  ‘Do you remember all our dreams and big ideas back in the day? When we were playing dress-up, I wanted to be a fashion designer, draping you in all sorts of colourful scarves and knits …’

  ‘Hah, well you really are making them now, with your gorgeous children’s jumpers and the knitted toys.’

  ‘Not quite London fashion week though.’

  ‘No, but … hey, don’t run yourself down. They’re great and you’re using your skills, your passion, your creativity.’

  Eve nodded in acknowledgement, softly smiling. ‘And then there you were, ever practical, happier in wellies than high heels, even though I could make you totter around in your mum’s special pair of stilettos that were way too big for you, whilst you were making plans for the farm. And, when you were a teenager you had your dream of going off to agricultural college to learn all the latest farming developments. You already wanted to make a difference back then.’

  ‘And then there was Maisy to think of, of course,’ Rachel commented. Reality had taken over.

  ‘Yes, well, you just had to hold fire on those big ideas for a while, and you’ve done a brilliant job of being a mum. That’s a huge achievement in itself, hun.’

  ‘And … there was Amelia following soon after,’ added Rachel.

  ‘Well, yes, but then I was all settled with Ben, and couldn’t wait. I think you’d made me all broody. Life just turns on a sixpence sometimes …’

  There was a moment of quiet when they must have both been thinking of the much harder times that had followed at Primrose Farm, then Eve gave a sigh and a smile. ‘And now this, you and Jill being brave enough to go ahead and change things at the farm. It’s maybe not quite panned out quite how you’d imagined way back then, I know it’s been so tough, but here you are; strong and determined, and willing to give this Pudding Pantry a try at least.’

  Rachel looked across at Eve. She was so grateful that their friendship had spanned the years. She felt a warm glow at her words, but was she overestimating her courage? ‘Sometimes, I don’t feel as strong as I come across, Eve.’

  ‘Hey … that’s okay too, Rach. That’s when you come and find me … and your other friends, your family …’

  Rachel found her vision had gone a bit fuzzy as a tear caught in her eye. ‘Now look what you’ve made me do.’ She took a delightful sip of bubbly, diverting attention from her glistening eyes. ‘Mmmn, delicious. Right, let’s get on with this brainstorming t
hen.’

  ‘Of course, yes.’ Eve popped a strawberry into her mouth. ‘Right, I’ve got some A4 paper here, some coloured pens, and we’ll smash the ideas out.’

  ‘Great. So, on the barn interior,’ Rachel was eager to get started, ‘I’ve had some ideas for general style and furniture. Can I test them out on you?’

  ‘Go right ahead.’

  ‘So, I’m thinking “country” and “pretty”, a mix of old and new. Somewhere you’d like to hang out and relax with your friends or bring your granny for lunch, that kind of thing. Hang on, I’ve got some images that I’ve saved on my phone to give you a better idea. Now, I can picture a serving counter a bit like that one, all made in natural wood, and a glass refrigerated counter for all the puddings, cakes and other delights.’

  ‘Of course. The puddings will be the stars of the show.’

  She showed Eve a few pictures. ‘The stone walls I want to keep much as they are,’ Rachel continued. ‘And, I’m thinking white-painted wooden furniture with a gorgeous dresser or two to display things on.’

  ‘Ooh, yes, I love it. Yes! And what about having jam jars filled with posies on each table? And wooden spoons with the table numbers on? That’ll fit so well with the baking theme.’

  ‘Great. That’d be so pretty having flowers, and posies would be inexpensive to do … And, if we can afford it, look at these … I’d love two glass chandeliers, just small ones like those in the image there. See how they catch the light and make it look really special.’

  ‘Wow, yes, it sounds unusual to have chandeliers in a barn but in fact it works really well.’

  ‘They will be a bit expensive though, I had a quick look at prices,’ Rachel admitted. ‘But, if I can get the tables and chairs and a dresser second-hand and paint them all myself, then I might just be able to splash out on the chandeliers. Well, I’ll have to wait and see. There’ll be a lot more essential things to pay out on first.’

  ‘Oh, I hope you can get them, they add a magical, sparkly touch.’