Summer at Rachel's Pudding Pantry Page 4

  Rachel blushed pink and began tugging at her tiara, just as a tall, good-looking bloke stepped forward from the bar.

  ‘Hey, haven’t I seen you somewhere before?’ He gave a cheeky grin and then gestured across to their table.

  What a line, Rachel thought, rolling her eyes. ‘I don’t think s—’ She was keen to make her getaway.

  ‘No, really, I’m not one to forget a pretty face.’ Cheesy or what? ‘You and two of your friends there, you were at the service station near Glasgow.’

  Oh blimey … She took in the sandy-blond hair, the broad chest. It was him. Coca-Cola T-shirt Man. He walked across with her back to their table. ‘Good evening, ladies.’

  ‘Hell-ooo.’ ‘Hi.’ ‘Hi, there’ came a chorus of chirpy responses accompanied by broad smiles.

  ‘It’s T-shirt Man,’ Rachel mouthed to Eve, over his shoulder.

  ‘Nice to see you again.’ He smiled directly at Eve.

  ‘Yeah, apparently this, er, gentleman, remembers us from the service station. What are the chances, hey Eve?’

  Eve’s mouth dropped open. ‘Gosh, yes. Hah.’

  ‘So, you lot know each other?’ quizzed Hannah.

  ‘I wouldn’t say that. We just happened to be getting out of our cars at the same time at the service station yesterday,’ said Rachel.

  ‘It’s Ross, by the way.’ He introduced himself to the group.

  ‘Hi, Ross.’

  ‘So, you girls were on your way to a hen do then? Your hen do, in fact.’ His hand was now resting on Rachel’s shoulder. It felt like a friendly gesture, nothing more.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘One lucky guy.’

  ‘He sure is,’ said Eve, proud of her friend.

  Soon a few of Ross’s mates had joined the group and there was more chat and laughter. They were keen to know where the girls were from and what they all did. Ross, it turned out, did garden maintenance; mostly bigger jobs like lopping tree branches, cutting back shrubs, mowing large lawns, he explained.

  ‘Yeah, I’d been to Glasgow that day to pick up a new ride-on.’

  Several of the girls raised their eyebrows at that, with a giggle bursting forth from Eve.

  ‘Lawn mower,’ he added, shaking his head but grinning all the while.

  It was all harmless fun and added to the jollity of the night. But after one more round of drinks, which the local lads insisted on buying, Rachel spotted Eve sidling up to Ross and batting her eyelashes, getting a little too up close and personal. Now that really wasn’t like Eve at all. What was she up to? She was definitely starting to look a little the worse for wear, wobbling on her high-heeled shoes too.

  ‘Time to go, Eve,’ Rachel called out, moving in to steer her away from Mr T. The others were already popping on their jackets anyhow, deciding it was time to head back to the lodge.

  ‘They were a nice bunch of lads, weren’t they?’ said Rachel.

  The girls were crammed in the back of the Land Rover, chatting away on the slightly bumpy ride home along the winding lane to the cabin.

  ‘Yeah, pretty cute too,’ chipped in Kirsty.

  ‘Hah, well, we’d only be looking. We’re all married – or nearly married – ladies, after all,’ added Charlotte.

  ‘Hmmm, absolutely,’ Eve said a little drowsily.

  ‘Well, I only have eyes for Tom. Honestly, I couldn’t even imagine wanting anyone else, ever.’ Just thinking about him made Rachel feel all warm and fuzzy.

  ‘Well, that’s a good job, seeing as you’re getting married on the fourth of July,’ added Hannah.

  Eve was unusually quiet, sitting a little slumped in the seat next to Rachel. ‘You okay, hun?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Eve’s voice was a whisper. ‘Think I might need a bit of air.’

  ‘You’re not going to be sick, are you? Shall I shout on Mum to stop?’

  ‘No, no, I’ll be fine, honest. Just a bit woozy …’

  ‘Anybody got a carrier bag as insurance?’ added Kirsty wryly.

  The hens got sleepier on the last mile back, the winding road and effects of the alcohol lulling them. Eve rested her head on Rachel’s shoulder, and Rachel stroked her friend’s hair gently.

  Half an hour later, after a brief nightcap back at the lodge, Hannah and Kirsty had given in and headed to bed, followed soon afterwards by Charlotte and then Eve. Jill, who still remained sober, started clearing the glasses into the sink, and gathered up a handful of confetti from the floor. ‘Oh …’ She suddenly stopped in her tracks.

  ‘What’s up?

  ‘Oh nothing … well,’ she burst into a daft grin, ‘I didn’t realise they did willy-shaped confetti, I must say!’

  ‘Hah, nor did I.’ Rachel scooped some up from the table top, taking a closer look.

  ‘Bloody hell, it is too. I’d better warn them not to bring that to church, the vicar would have a fit.’

  They had a good old chuckle.

  ‘Don’t worry about the washing up now, Mum. We can do that in the morning.’

  ‘Well, I am pretty shattered,’ admitted Jill. ‘It was a great night though.’

  ‘Yeah, it was … and thanks again for driving.’

  ‘No worries … and at least I won’t have a thick head in the morning.’

  ‘Night then, Mum.’

  ‘Night, love.’

  Rachel headed over and gave her mum a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. ‘I’m glad you’re here with us.’

  ‘Me too. Sleep tight, pet. Hope the bed bugs …’

  ‘… don’t bite,’ they chanted together, with a shared smile. A saying from Rachel’s childhood.

  It was all dark in the room that Rachel and Eve were sharing. Rachel decided not to blast the light on, as Eve should be all tucked up in bed, but strangely things just didn’t feel right as Rachel entered.

  ‘Eve?’

  ‘Ah … huh,’ the answer didn’t seem to be coming from the bed.

  Rachel moved forward cautiously and fumbled for the bedside lamp. She clicked the switch. ‘Oh, Eve … are you okay?’ Her maid of honour was splayed out, still fully clothed, propped on the floor at the foot of the bed. ‘What are you doing down there, hun?’ Rachel started to sober up amazingly quickly.

  ‘I … I don’t know …’ Eve looked about her, seemingly as surprised as Rachel was to see herself at floor level.

  ‘Okay then, hun. Let’s get you up and into bed.’ Rachel helped hoist her friend up onto the mattress and proceeded to help her off with her clothes, leaving her with bra and knickers on, then tucked her in under the duvet. She seemed extremely tipsy, which wasn’t like Eve at all, as she could usually hold her drink better than Rachel.

  ‘Right, I think I’ll fetch us both a big glass of water. Help clear our heads a bit,’ said Rachel, hoping to stave off the hangover from hell the next morning. ‘Stay there then, hun.’ To be fair, Eve didn’t look as if she was going anywhere.

  ‘Hmm,’ was all her friend could utter, whilst clinging on to the duvet cover as if it were a life raft.

  Rachel hoped Eve wasn’t about to be sick. Thinking quickly, she moved the waste-paper bin across to Eve’s side of the bed – better safe than sorry. She headed for the kitchen and was soon back with two large glasses of water, making her friend take a few big sips before glugging down her own. Soon in her PJs, Rachel slipped into bed, turned off the lamp and then whispered, ‘Night, Eve.’

  ‘Nigh … Rach …’ There was a pause and then a whisper sounded in the darkness. ‘Rach?’

  ‘Yes, hun?’

  ‘I can tell you anything, right? You … you can keep a secret?’

  ‘Yeah, of course. Eve, I’m your best friend.’ Rachel waited for her friend’s voice again, holding her breath. Silence. Well, except for a little puffing, snoring sound.

  Rachel sighed. She was sound asleep, bless her. But what ‘secret’ did Eve want to share? And, Rachel reflected again, she had behaved a little out of character that night. It was also unusual for Eve to have drunk so much. Still,
Rachel mused, we could all have our moments and let our hair down just a little too much. Oh yes, Eve had looked after her more than a few times as a teenager, she remembered fondly.

  But Rachel felt a bit unsettled. She vowed to keep an ear out through the night, and make sure her friend was all right.

  5

  EVE

  A full-blown marching band was thumping away inside Eve’s head the next morning.

  Bloody hell, how had she let herself get so damned tipsy? Oh God, there was a vague memory lurking in her car-crash of a brain … of T-shirt Man. Oh yes … she might just have told him she’d been very impressed by his gorgeous bare chest. She gave a groan from beneath the duvet. She really didn’t want to spoil the last full day of Rachel’s hen do. Nope, she ought to try and get herself up and out of bed right now. But, trying to shift up from the pillow was proving extremely difficult, every movement producing a hammer blow inside her skull.

  There was a knock on the door and, peeking through one squint eye, Eve saw Jill appearing with two large mugs of tea. ‘Morning, girls.’

  Oh, so Rachel was still there in bed too.

  ‘Hi, Jill.’ Eve could hardly recognise her own voice, which came out as a rasp, but at least she had managed to speak.

  ‘Morning, Mum.’ Rachel sounded slightly fresher.

  ‘No rush, but I thought you might need these … and these …’ She placed down a packet of paracetamol beside the two mugs.

  ‘Thanks, Mum. How’re you doing there, Eve?’ Rachel asked sympathetically.

  ‘Not sure yet …’ answered Eve, struggling.

  ‘You don’t happen to have a full schedule of activities planned for today, do you hun? No bungee jumping or anything lined up?’ Rachel said wryly.

  ‘No …’ Thank the Lord.

  ‘That’s good to know.’ Rachel managed a chuckle.

  ‘Definitely a day for us all to chill out then,’ Jill chipped in.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Hmmm …’ The power of speech was failing Eve.

  ‘Right, well, you two just take your time.’ Jill’s voice was chirpy, far too chirpy. ‘Me and Hannah are up, but we’re more than happy out on the deck enjoying the sunshine and having a natter over a cuppa. The other two are still in the land of nod.’

  Eve heard footsteps retreating, uttered a groan-like ‘thanks’, and then buried herself back under the duvet. She most definitely wasn’t ready to face the day just yet. As she sank back into the pillows, something else was niggling at her too. Something besides her hangover. Her emotions had been pretty wobbly over the past few weeks … a certain worry keeping her awake at night. Normally, she’d share her concerns with her best friend, but it was a bit trickier than that. She went through a mental check list of all the reasons to keep schtum:

  a) She really didn’t want to air her silly worries now, and spoil what should be a fab hen party for them all.

  b) She could hardly make any sense of it herself just yet.

  c) Telling someone might make it all the more real. At the moment, she could just leave well alone, pretend nothing at all had happened, and just carry on with life as normal. Right?

  The only trouble was that it wasn’t leaving her alone, and it was starting to do her head in, as well as leaving her heart wallowing in a weird, splodgy puddle.

  Eve let out a long, slow sigh. Just thinking about her dilemma made her head pound even more. She fumbled on the bedside table for the paracetamol packet, managed to push two of the pills out and glugged them down with a slurp of tea. Urgh, they tasted foul as they lodged in her throat.

  Why did life have to be so bloody complicated?

  A long, leisurely soak in the Jacuzzi soothed them all that afternoon – warm and bubbly, with good company and relaxed chatter. Bliss. It was certainly just what Eve needed.

  When early evening swung around, Rachel and Hannah nipped out to the town to buy some treats for an easy supper. As soon as they left, Eve ran into the middle of the living room and called the fellow hens over.

  ‘Right, ladies, it’s go time! Let’s get transforming!’ she shouted, rallying the troops as they started to turn the lodge into a DIY SOS-style hen-do decoration zone. Pearlised pink and silver balloons were blown up and hung from the ceiling, streamers were draped artistically, along with bunting that Eve had made especially for the wedding and brought with her from home. The ‘Team Bride’ sashes were back out, and the girls even set up a cardboard ‘photo booth’ picture frame you could stand behind with lots of fun props – spectacles, hats, feather boas, and more.

  When Rachel and Hannah arrived back thirty minutes later, they were surprised by a blast of party poppers and hooters, their friends leaping out at them as they came through the cabin door.

  ‘Well you lot have certainly perked up!’ Rachel grinned, looking around her at the transformation. ‘Aw, this is amazing, you guys.’

  ‘Well, we couldn’t let the last night pass without a bit of a bang,’ exclaimed Charlotte.

  Jill approached from the kitchen with a tray of freshly frosted, salted caramel cupcakes. ‘I think it’s time we popped open the prosecco again then, girls.’

  Eve’s tummy gave a gurgle of protest at the mere thought of alcohol. ‘I’ll pass on the prosecco just now, Jill,’ she gulped. ‘But I might well have to try one of those.’

  They ate the cupcakes as dessert first, followed by a platter of local breads, cheeses, and pâtés. They sipped their prosecco, bar Eve who opted for fizzy water, and then settled down for a night of hen-do fun. A proper Girls’ Night In.

  The photo booth proved a great hit, and lots of silly, smiley photos were taken. Games were played, including an ‘interesting’ hen-do version of what might be known as ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey’, which produced much hilarity, especially when a blindfolded and blushing Jill managed to place the ‘tail’ appendage slap-bang in the middle of the cartoon man’s face.

  It was getting late when Kirsty suggested a quick-fire game of ‘Truth or Dare’, along with an Irish cream nightcap. Kirsty nominated herself as question master – a sneaky move, the others agreed, giggling. They’d have to think of a humdinger of a group question for her as a grand finale.

  It came to Jill’s turn.

  ‘Truth or Dare?’

  ‘Truth. Go on, I’ve nothing to hide.’

  ‘Be careful of the question here, Kirst,’ Rachel piped up. ‘Remember it’s my mother you’re asking. There are certain things I really don’t want to hear.’

  ‘Okay, okay. So, Jill, how many different people have you kissed – romantically, that is?’

  ‘Ooh, now then …’ Jill held out her hand as she was thinking, counting off digits. ‘Blimey, some of them will be way back. School stuff and first boyfriends.’

  ‘Better be before Dad …’

  Robert was counted in as number four – Eve spotted Rachel sighing slightly, bless her, as Jill mouthed her dad’s name. And then Jill paused before counting out one more … oh, Dan? She must have kissed Dan. Eve didn’t know too much about Jill’s new romance, but she knew it had been a bit tough for Rachel to come to terms with.

  ‘Five. Yes, five.’

  Five in all her fifty-two years. She’d married young, Eve supposed. Times were different then.

  ‘Thank you, Jill!’

  ‘Next, Rachel. Bride-to-be. We need to know your first kiss – when, where and who with.’

  ‘Really? Okay, so it was at school, in the summer, school field, I was fifteen …’ She pinked up, remembering. ‘It was pretty awful, a clash of teeth and metal braces, in fact.’ Rachel had wondered what the fuss was all about. ‘Hah, yes, his lips were a bit like a washing machine on full spin.’

  The group were in fits of giggles now.

  ‘And … it was with Matty Douglas,’ came Rachel’s confession.

  ‘Hah, yes.’ Eve smiled, having been privy to this ‘major’ news at the time.

  ‘Ooh, really?’ Hannah raised her eyebrows.

&nbs
p; ‘Yes, of course,’ Charlotte chipped in. Matty was still about in the village. He was a nice lad, had improved since the braces had come off. He now had a car-valeting business and was married with a kid.

  ‘Eve’s turn,’ the girls called out, grinning. They were nearly all done now, bar Kirsty.

  Eve felt a flash of concern. She hated this kind of game at the best of times, and now it made her feel a bit queasy … especially with everything that was going on in her life right now. ‘Okay, okay.’

  ‘So, Eve, last kiss, when, where and with whom?’

  ‘You didn’t give me the chance to say Truth or Dare,’ Eve blurted out.

  ‘Hmm … Eve Jones, you are reluctant to tell the truth … interesting …’ Kirsty put on an interrogative tone, then took a big sip of her Irish cream.

  ‘Okay, yes, it was Amelia when we said goodbye on Thursday morning.’

  ‘Romantic kisses, we’re talking,’ added Kirsty.

  Eve felt herself flush before quickly saying, ‘Ben, of course.’

  ‘Right then, we need a question for Kirsty now,’ Rachel said, swiftly rolling the game on. Eve saw her friend glance across at her, seeming to sense her unease. ‘Come on, ladies, group confab. It needs it be a good one,’ Rachel continued.

  The group whispered between themselves, until Charlotte came up with a great question. ‘Have you ever had a crush on a teacher at high school? If so, which one and why?’

  Between them, they pretty much knew all the high-school teachers, having been to the same school (except for Hannah, who’d moved to the village once she’d married), and it opened up a fun conversation with a few cringeworthy teachers’ names thrown in the mix. Kirsty bypassed the obvious choice of Mr Adams the PE teacher, and plumped for Mr Stephens who’d taught Geography. ‘Tall, not bad looking, and he made Geography seem pretty cool.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ commented Rachel. ‘I can see how he might have some appeal.’