Summer at Rachel's Pudding Pantry Page 22

  Tom’s heart hit the deck. His stomach lurched and he felt physically ill. He didn’t want to see any more, his head crashing against the steering wheel.

  He just couldn’t believe it. Just a few nights ago she had been in his arms, telling him she loved him. Did he even know her? Could his Rachel, his fiancée, be so damned cool and calculating, so capable of deceit? He took one last glance. The two of them were still up close and personal. This was no normal conversation. No chat about Maisy … and what the hell was the guy even doing here? It was a bit bloody early to be arriving for the wedding. The sham of a bloody wedding …

  He slammed the truck into reverse, and rolled back down the track, turning with a wheelspin at the farm gate. Devastation. Anger. Disbelief. Emotions slammed into him. He punched at the steering wheel, and then he drove, he didn’t know where … just kept driving. Out of Primrose Farm, out of the valley, away from the rumours-turned-truths … to somewhere he could just crash and burn.

  Sitting at the farmhouse table, having just doused her eye at the sink with some sterile eye drops, a stream of troubled thoughts rushed through Rachel’s mind. Jake had headed off a while ago, to check in at the B & B he’d booked in Kirkton, saying he’d be back at four to see Maisy. The old grandfather clock that stood in the corner was still ticking away; why-oh-why had she heard nothing from Tom as yet? She’d hoped he might try to contact her on a break during the hearing. She couldn’t help but be concerned for him with his farm, his livelihood, at stake. She caved in and called his mobile. It went straight to answerphone.

  ‘Hi, only me. Hope everything’s going okay? Keep me posted when you get a chance. Good luck … Love you.’

  She told herself not to worry, that he’d just be busy, and she took herself back over the yard to help Jill at the Pantry. At least the customers would help to keep her mind off things.

  Five o’clock and tea time rolled up, with Jake now back and staying for a bite of supper with Maisy and the family. There was still no sign of Tom and no answer to her messages. Rachel was getting really anxious by now. This wasn’t like Tom. Maybe things had gone badly in court, and he’d taken himself off to get his head around things, or to speak to the land agent to organise the sale of some of his farm? Surely, he should be on his way home by now … but why hadn’t he thought to call her?

  Whatever it was, she’d get to the bottom of it. She found she had no appetite, excused herself from the table, and told her mum that she was nipping over to Tom’s farm. If he was there, they could have a good chat, face whatever had happened and deal with this thing together.

  Rachel felt her heart plummet on finding Tom’s farmhouse was all locked up. No one home. No sign or noise from Mabel. Strange. Rachel then remembered that Tom was going to leave the dog with his parents for the day in case he ended up being a long time. Should she call them? Might he be there? She didn’t want to alarm them unnecessarily. But if there was something wrong, maybe they would know. Surely, they’d call her straight away if there was anything … Dark thoughts began to crowd her mind.

  Sod it. She couldn’t just sit and wait this out. She got back on her quad, looked out over the valley and, after trying Tom’s mobile once more to no avail, she called his parents’ house.

  It was Geoff, Tom’s father, who answered. ‘Hello, Rachel. Good news, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is? I wouldn’t know, Geoff. Look, sorry for calling, but I haven’t heard from Tom at all and there’s no sight of him at the farm …’ She was flummoxed for a moment. ‘Have you seen Tom, then?’

  ‘Yes, he was here – when was it now? – about three hours ago. Yes, came to fetch the dog and told us the wonderful news that the case has been dropped. Yes, something about some social media scam and his solicitor having a bit of a word off the record. Seems to have done the trick. Caitlin has dropped the claim entirely. Our farm is safe. What a bloody relief.’

  ‘Oh … So, he’s been home … back to Kirkton?’ Rachel clarified, trying to take it all in. Yes, it really must have been Caitlin behind the trolling. She wondered why on earth Tom hadn’t come to share this good news with her.

  ‘Yes. Is everything all right, Rachel love?’ Geoff’s tone became concerned.

  ‘Ah, yes, of course. No problem, I’m sure we’ll catch up with each other very soon. He must have had a lot on this afternoon.’ At least it sounded as if he was fine and all was well, and the case was dropped … well, that was a relief.

  ‘We’re both so looking forward to the big day here,’ Tom’s father continued jollily. ‘Weather forecast is looking good. And just let us know if there’s anything at all we can do to help for it – with the setting up and all that. We’re more than happy to get stuck in. I know Helen’s on board with the baking team with the WI.’

  ‘Oh, thank you both, and yes I will do … it’ll be lovely.’ She tried to sound upbeat, when all the while her heart and mind were racing.

  What the hell was going on? Tom Watson had been back to Kirkton but was now AWOL. Might he have headed off, needing some time to think? Maybe the reality of Caitlin trying to claim against him, the acrimonious nature of his first marriage had hit him hard today, even though the case had been dropped at the last. Was he afraid he was going to be making the same mistake?

  Hours passed in unseen and unanswered texts, another two trips to his farmhouse with still no one home, and a sickening churn in her stomach. The beep of her phone roused her; it was almost eleven p.m. by now, and Rachel was trying unsuccessfully to sleep. She snatched up her mobile from beside the bed and saw the screen. The message was from Tom. Thank God.

  ‘I wanted to let you know I’m okay. But don’t try to see me. I need time to think. I think we might be over.’

  Rachel’s heart went into free fall. What was he saying? What was happening?

  She quickly texted back: ‘Tom what are you talking about? I heard about the court case – it’s good news, isn’t it?’

  She paused, frozen, completely baffled. She was desperate to reach out to him, to stop this – whatever this was – from spiralling further. There was no immediate response. ‘But I can come to you. Whatever it is, we’re in this together, remember?’ she pressed.

  The reply chilled her already aching heart: ‘I don’t think so, Rach.’

  And then, silence.

  40

  Tom turned up at the Pantry at ten thirty the next morning, unshaven and looking as though he hadn’t slept a wink. Rachel well knew that feeling, having only snatched a few hours herself.

  She glanced up and caught those gorgeous green eyes, tinged with sadness. She really didn’t understand what was going on; the result of the court case should have meant he’d be walking on air. But he very clearly wasn’t. She shook her head: whatever it was, she could help him put it right. He was here now, that was the main thing.

  ‘Tom …’ She moved out from behind the counter, ready to take him in her arms … to do anything to ease his pain. But, as soon as she placed a hand on him, he flinched.

  ‘I need to know the truth, Rachel.’

  She was still at a loss as to what was going on, but this seemed like a conversation to have in private. ‘Mum, we’re just going across to the house.’

  ‘No problem, love.’ Jill was ready to take over the reins, and finished the order for Frank, who was peering nosily over the top of his newspaper.

  They walked across the yard to the farmhouse. Rachel’s hand was itching to hold Tom’s, but he was keeping his pace at a distance. Last night’s text message was haunting her: I think we might be over. But they could still face this together. If only she knew what this was.

  In the sun-filled private space of the kitchen, Rachel got to it. ‘Okay, Tom, what’s going on?’ Her voice was filled with love and concern.

  ‘I think you know what, Rachel.’

  ‘I honestly don’t, you’re going to have to fill me in.’

  Yet Rachel had an inkling now. What if her worst fears were confirmed? What if he’d go
t wind of the false rumours flying around the village?

  ‘Is it true? You and Jake?’ He looked dejected, betrayed. ‘If there’s still something there between the two of you, then that’s it … I can’t marry you, Rachel.’

  ‘Look Tom, if you’ve been hearing some crazy rumour going about the village, then please don’t buy into it. You know me better than that, and you know what the gossip in this place can be like.’

  He sighed. ‘Of course, when I heard the tittle-tattle, I dismissed it as a load of shite. I trusted you, Rach. But … I also know what I saw with my own eyes. How could you betray me like that?’ His voice was as hard as stone.

  ‘I-I don’t understand Tom …’

  He looked at her, filled with hurt and anger. ‘I saw you, I – I saw you both … kissing. When I arrived back here yesterday.’

  ‘What? What are you talking about, that’s—’

  ‘Don’t lie, Rachel,’ he said, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

  ‘I’m not! I swear, why would I … and look, these rumours we’re all hearing, they’re nothing to do with me and Jake …’ she floundered. But, how could she tell him what was really going on? ‘It’s just …’ Shit, if she told him the real truth behind those rumours, she could wreck Eve’s marriage, blow apart her friend’s gorgeous family. She’d promised.

  ‘There are no “justs” in any of this, Rachel.’

  ‘I know, and look, I don’t know what you saw, but …’ And then it came to her: the fly in her eye, Jake getting close as he tried to prise it out … Could Tom have seen that?

  ‘This is all a complete misunderstanding. Jake was just helping me yesterday, I had something in my eye. Was that what you saw? Honestly, it was completely innocent, though I suppose it might have looked like something else. You know what a nightmare Jake is, how badly he’s let me down. You know how much I love you … I would never, ever, go there …’

  She knew the fly argument sounded thin, and was beginning to see how incriminating it might have looked. But at least Tom was finally looking her in the eye. If she wanted him to believe her, though, she had to come clean about the root of the rumours: Eve. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t know what else to say without betraying her best friend. So, she stood there in silence, trying to see a way out of this.

  Tom shook his head so very sadly, then turned and walked away.

  ‘Tom … I … don’t go …’ Her words trailed after him, but he didn’t stop.

  She stood frozen. Rachel felt as if her heart was being torn in two: between loyalty to her beautiful friend and the trust and love of her fiancé.

  Unaware of any of the dramas that had been unfolding, Ben asked Tom if he fancied a pint after work that evening. He had best-man duties to talk through with him, after all. The Black Bull was pretty low down on the list of places Tom wanted to visit right now after his run-in with Dennis the Menace, and everything that had gone on since, but after the night and day Tom had just put in, a cold drink of beer with a mate in his local did actually sound like a good tonic. After all, Tom resolved, he had nothing to hide. He wasn’t one to shy away from this mess, and if he fancied a pint in his local, why the hell not? It might help take his mind off things for a couple of hours, if nothing else.

  Tom walked in at seven o’clock as agreed, finding that Ben wasn’t there yet. And look who was standing at the bar: Jake. Of course, the last person he wanted to see right now. Barfly eyes scanned from Tom to Jake, evidently aware of the rumours that had been going around, and there was an audible hush as Tom stepped up to the counter – as far away from his rival as he could – and ordered a pint of real ale. The landlord, Mick, poured and passed it over the bar a little awkwardly. ‘All right, Tom?’

  ‘Yep.’ Amazing how one small word could hold a storm inside it.

  Mick sensed that perhaps this wasn’t quite the time to mention the up-and-coming wedding. Let a man have his beer in peace, that was one of his lifelong mottos, born from experience. Especially when the customer in question had a face on him like thunder.

  Tom stood bristling at the end of the bar. He took a sip of the cold beer. A couple of pints, that’d be all he’d stay for. A quick chat with Ben and then he’d be away home.

  Unfortunately, Jake had other plans, sauntering his way across. He even had the cheek to smile at him. ‘Hey, Tom. All right, mate?’

  ‘I’m not your mate.’

  ‘Okay, pal. What’s up?’

  His tone was too damned flippant for Tom’s liking.

  ‘What’s up? What’s up is how you’ve been loitering around the farm, pestering Rachel, getting way too close to my fiancée. Making a nuisance of yourself …’

  Jake didn’t much like his accusatory tone or the bullish look on his face. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, mate. I’ve only been there to visit my daughter. I have rights, you know.’

  ‘You’ve been doing a sight more than that, you slimy little toerag.’ Tom’s fist was primed now, but he wasn’t the sort to get physical.

  ‘Dunno what you’re talking about.’

  ‘You and Rachel …’

  ‘Well, I haven’t been there for a few years now … but boy she was a good ’un.’ Jake’s tone was lechy after a few pints on an empty stomach.

  With that, the prickling in Tom’s fist took over. Just looking at Jake’s smug face was enough to tip him over …

  Ben walked into the Bull to see Tom land a punch right on Jake’s face. Ouch.

  And Jake struck back, landing a fist on Tom’s cheekbone. Ooh.

  ‘Right lads, enough.’ Mick swiftly broke up the fight. ‘Not in my bar, you don’t! Take it outside if you have to.’

  Ben moved in to hustle Tom to one side, holding his friend back before he did something he really regretted. ‘Woah Tom, take it easy now, let’s calm down yeah?’ Both Jake and Tom were ushered out of the door and onto the street. Tom stood breathing heavily, rubbing his knuckles. Jesus, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d thrown a punch. But he didn’t feel elated, far from it. Jake was standing beside him, rubbing his cheek. ‘What the hell was that all about?’ he muttered. ‘Can’t a man enjoy a quiet pint? You should be getting excited for your wedding, mate, not starting fights. Bloody hell.’

  Jake was clearly in denial, like the lying cheat he was, Tom mused. Yet Jake, he could understand … Rachel, however, he had thought he knew her better than that. He had thought she was better than that. His own cheek began throbbing. But a mere punch in the face was nothing compared to the pain he felt inside. Tom found he no longer had the heart to fight … suddenly he didn’t have the heart for anything anymore.

  41

  Rachel did what she always did in times of trouble and got on with life and stuck into her work.

  The farm animals still needed her care; they didn’t know that her heart was breaking. The Pantry needed her puddings, and what energy she could muster to serve, and … if she could work all this out with Tom, there was still a wedding to prepare for. The tipi was being put up in the field beside the farmhouse right now – she could hear the hammering across the valley – and she, Mum and Daniel were set to move chairs and tables across there as soon as the Pantry closed for business.

  She’d tried to speak with Tom again last night, a call that went unanswered. She had no option but to leave a voicemail, pleading with him to believe her.

  After a blast of fresh air out on the quad with Moss – ears flapping – at her side, she headed back down the valley to Primrose Farm, catching sight of Tom’s farm there beside hers. They were meant to be together. It had to work out, it just had to. But she knew Tom needed a bit of space right now. This was all such a mess. And the wedding was a mere day away, or – at least – it was supposed to be. Right now, she really didn’t know if he was going to turn up or not.

  That wasn’t the end of her worries. As she walked into the Pantry fifteen minutes later, ready to help Jill serve the morning customers, trying to put on her best sunny smile with a
heart that was shredded, Jill approached with a worried look on her face. ‘Oh, Rachel, there’s been a problem.’

  Oh God, had Tom gone and called it off for good? Rachel felt a bit wobbly and had to hold onto the nearest chair.

  Whatever it was she had to face it full on. ‘What is it, Mum?’

  ‘There’s been an accident on the A1 …’ Jill started.

  Rachel’s mind flashed, where was Maisy? Safely at school … Not Tom, please not Tom … driving off with a head full of hurt and false scenarios.

  Her throat was in such a knot, she couldn’t speak. Her knees wobbled.

  ‘It’s Jenn, the cake lady. She’s had an accident on the way here.’

  ‘Oh no, is she all right?’

  ‘I think so, just a minor scrape, she was able to call me. She’s going to pop to the doctors’ to get checked out, might be a bit of whiplash. Her car’s a bit of a mess, I think.’

  ‘Oh, bless her, how awful.’

  ‘But it’s the cake, darling … Someone’s gone into the back of her estate, and well … it’s trashed.’

  ‘Oh, right. Blimey.’ Her wedding cake, crushed. Just a metaphor for the times, right? But there were more important things in life right now. ‘Poor Jenn. She’ll be devastated.’ At least Jenn seemed to be okay.

  ‘She said she’ll not charge us for it,’ Jill continued. ‘But the thing is, she hasn’t got time to make another … and, to be honest, I don’t think she should pressure herself to even try. She did sound rather shaken up.’

  ‘No, of course, she mustn’t. I’ll text her and see how she is, say we’ll be fine. It’s not the end of the world.’

  ‘I must say you’re taking it awfully well, love.’

  Frank had been sipping his morning coffee and listening in. ‘Oh ladies, I’m sorry to hear that,’ he chipped in. ‘I wish I could bake. I’d be going home and making you something right now. But I really don’t think you’d be impressed with my meagre efforts.’