Rachel's Pudding Pantry Page 9

  ‘Thanks Charlotte, that means a lot.’

  ‘It’s such a brilliant idea, isn’t it,’ agreed Eve. ‘Now then,’ she added with a cheeky glint in her eye, ‘if your delectable neighbour Tom was a pudding, which one would he be?’

  ‘Ooh … now you’re talking,’ Charlotte answered. ‘Hmm, I reckon ginger. Yes, a bit spicy and strong, but all soft and gooey on the inside.’

  ‘I think he’d have to be the most delicious and moist chocolate brownie – all that dark hair, tanned skin and intense eyes.’ Eve added her opinion with a doe-eyed smile. ‘What do you think, Rachel?’

  Did she really have to play this game? Two sets of eyes were looking at her, waiting. ‘Okay, well he’s really sweet … so maybe …’

  ‘Sweet? Sweet? That man is hot, with more sauce than I can possibly imagine,’ declared Charlotte.

  Eve hooted with laughter at that point. ‘Oh, I might change my mind,’ Eve said. ‘Maybe sticky toffee then, all over his body.’ The white wine was definitely getting to her now; she didn’t drink much generally. But Rachel knew she was all bark and no bite, just fantasising a little. She really was happily married to hubbie Ben, just letting off a little night-out-with-the-girls steam.

  ‘Well then?’ Charlotte was waiting for Rachel’s answer.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Rachel felt herself blushing and came out with the first pudding that came to mind. ‘A nice crumble. Comforting.’

  With that, the pub door opened and in strolled the man himself. There was Tom, dressed casually in a red-checked shirt and jeans, looking clean and fresh (not always a given in the farming community), and, by the look of his still-damp hair, he’d just made it out of the shower. Eve’s eyes lit up instantly. Rachel cringed – what if he’d heard them as he came in?

  Eve and Charlotte were suddenly giggling like a pair of teenagers beside her. Tom spotted their little huddle, smiling quizzically at all the hilarity. Rachel was not about to enlighten him on the subject of their conversation and merely said a brief ‘Hello’ with an awkward wave as he passed their table. He made his way to the bar where he started chatting with some of the other local lads.

  ‘Ooh, your sexy crumble of a neighbour appears,’ said Charlotte, not that discreetly.

  ‘Behave.’ Rachel shook her head, exasperated. ‘I thought Eve was bad enough.’

  ‘Just window shopping,’ commented Eve coyly. ‘Shame we can’t handle the goods though.’

  ‘Eve, shush.’ But Rachel couldn’t help but giggle, especially when Tom looked over at them, no doubt wondering what they were so amused about.

  Charlotte got another round of drinks in, and the evening flowed nicely with chat and more laughter, the girls talking about what was going on in their lives now as well as reminiscing over stories from their youth. It was great for Rachel to let her hair down a little – sometimes she forgot how young she still was, only in her mid-twenties. With a child and a farm and her mum to look after, at times she felt more like forty-four than twenty-four. Just a few years ago, when her friends had been out nightclubbing, being carefree and chatting up the lads, Rachel had had a young baby in tow, and was leading a life of nappy changes and feeds. She never wished she hadn’t had Maisy, that wasn’t it. But life for a young, rural-based single mum was often isolating, even though her mum and dad had always been a great support. At nineteen, she’d had responsibilities at a time when her friends were living totally different, carefree lives.

  A short while later, Tom made his way across to their table.

  ‘Hey, I enjoyed the party the other day.’

  ‘I assume you mean Maisy’s,’ Rachel answered, smiling. ‘Seeing as we’ve both been holed up in the lambing shed for the past month.’

  ‘Hmm, I wouldn’t mind being holed up in the lambing shed with someone …’ murmured Charlotte beside Rachel, who received a swift dig in the ribs to stop her saying any more.

  ‘I do indeed,’ Tom continued. ‘How is she doing?’

  ‘Oh, she’s fine. Full of energy. Buzzing around the farm like a little bee. She loved that book that you got her, by the way.’

  ‘Great. Bit of a gamble in WHSmith’s on which to choose actually. Not quite au fait with the reading tastes of five-year-olds.’

  Rachel was suddenly taken back to that conversation with her little girl the night of her birthday, Maisy declaring that she wanted Tom to be her daddy, seeing as her own bloody father had never turned up to her party. Rachel looked up at Tom for a second. And really looked at him. She’d known him for years. He’d been the older kid next door when she was little; a teenager racing around on his quad; a married man who went away for a while; the single farmer next door … She remembered him taking her to see his terrier pups when she was just a small girl. He must have been, what, sixteen? He was so gentle with them all, and proud as he told her all about saving the one she was holding – the frail runt of the litter – explaining that his dad had said she wouldn’t make it, as she lay so still, but he had persevered with rubbing her, clearing her tiny mouth, puffing gently between her new-born lips, and that little pup turned out to be the mum of Mabel – his latest dog.

  To Rachel he was just Tom. But she had to admit, perhaps there was something nice about him. He was tall, his dark hair short and slightly scruffy, he had kind eyes, a kind heart too, she was sure of that.

  Whoa, where had these rogue thoughts come from? Hah, it was being around Eve and Charlotte, their crushes must be rubbing off on her. She shook the crazy thoughts away but had the feeling that she might just be blushing.

  ‘So, what’s the crack then?’ Tom turned his attention to the other ladies, as he pulled up a stool at their table.

  ‘Oh, normal stuff. Life, children, work, never enough hours in a day,’ said Eve.

  ‘Never enough wine in a glass,’ added Charlotte cheekily, shaking her near empty glass of rosé. ‘Come on Eve, it’s your round. Can we get you a drink in, Tom?’

  ‘Thanks, but I’m fine. I’ve just had the one pint, now I’m sticking to the Coca-Cola. I’ve just nipped out for a quick break while Adam’s there. Got a feeling I might be needed to help with the calving tonight.’

  ‘Oh right, hope it all goes well.’

  ‘Oh, have you heard the news? Rachel’s setting up a pudding business with her mum,’ announced Eve.

  ‘Now that is good news. So, you’re really making it happen then?’ He turned to Rachel with a warm smile. ‘Good for you. So, when and where can I buy something? You know I have been waiting for Jill’s takeaway puddings all my life.’

  Rachel had to grin. ‘Well, we’ll be starting by selling some in the Kirkton Deli this coming week. We’re just trialling it, it’s early days yet.’

  ‘Brilliant. There’s a sticky toffee with my name on it there then.’

  ‘You might even get to be the first customer,’ Eve joined in.

  ‘No, that’s me. I’m in for a chocolate pudding as soon as they open on Monday,’ Charlotte announced, coming back with their drinks.

  It felt good making plans, having hopes for a new beginning, however small to start.

  By ten-thirty the girls felt pretty shattered. It was a school night, so Charlotte said she’d better be getting off soon. Eve was back to yawning again and whilst she wasn’t quite asleep under the table as yet, there were no signs of any of the three of them partying till dawn or dancing on the tables tonight.

  ‘Right, well we might as well make tracks.’ Rachel finished off the last of her cider. Charlotte’s boyfriend, Sam, was coming to pick her up. He had also offered to take the other two girls home, as both Jill and Eve’s husband couldn’t leave the little ones, who’d hopefully be tucked up fast asleep in bed by now.

  Tom was also putting on his jacket at the bar. He walked across, spotting them getting up to go. ‘I’m heading off too. Can I give anyone a lift?’ he offered.

  ‘Ah, well, Sam had said he’d take us as he’s picking Charlotte up. But, I suppose if you’re already heading i
n our direction …’ Rachel responded. Charlotte and Sam lived in a hamlet across the other side of Kirkton.

  Eve was nodding. ‘Yep, makes sense. Thanks, Tom.’

  Outside the pub, they said their goodbyes to Charlotte, as Sam was already there parked up, the three of them promising to catch up again soon.

  Tom drove them home through the dark country lanes, which felt extra twisty-turny now they’d had a drink or two (well, maybe five!). Eve and Rachel sat chatting in the two passenger seats in the front cab of the pick-up.

  ‘Been a good night, hasn’t it?’ said Eve.

  ‘Great – a bit of time out and good fun. Just what we needed.’

  ‘Well, I’m looking forward to a nice chocolate brownie when I get back,’ Eve began, ending up in a fit of the giggles once more.

  ‘What is up with you lot tonight?’ asked Tom, glancing across at the pair of them.

  ‘Nothing. Just Eve’s idea of a joke, that’s all.’ Rachel then dug her friend in the ribs in the hope of silencing her.

  ‘Or a nice comforting crumble.’ Eve’s sniggering continued.

  Rachel couldn’t help but grin. ‘Sorry, Tom. Not quite sure what’s got into her.’

  ‘A bottle of wine,’ piped up Eve.

  ‘Hah, yes.’

  Tom just smiled to himself.

  It wasn’t long before they arrived outside Eve’s cottage.

  ‘Here we go, Eve. That’s you home,’ Tom stated as he pulled up.

  ‘Thanks so much, Tom. You’re a star.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he replied. He watched her get safely through the front door before he turned his vehicle around and headed back along the lane to Primrose Farm.

  As Tom pulled onto their farm track, the ‘For Sale’ sign was there as clear as day – illuminated in his headlights. ‘So, I see you’ve put some land up for sale.’

  ‘Yeah … it wasn’t an easy decision but we needed to do something.’ Rachel went quiet for a few seconds.

  ‘Ah, I see.’ Tom’s tone was gentle, understanding.

  No-one else knew the difficult situation they were in other than Jill and Eve, though with the board now up outside the farm, people might be drawing their own conclusions soon enough. But, she felt she could trust Tom not to gossip.

  ‘We didn’t have much choice in the end, the farm desperately needs to release some cash.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Rachel.’

  ‘Oh Tom, it’s been so bloody hard.’ The cider was helping to pull down Rachel’s guard, plus the kind, thoughtful look on Tom’s face told her that she could trust him with the truth. ‘I feel like I’m letting Dad down somehow, selling off a piece of his farm … But, I can’t let it go under. I can’t let it all go.’

  ‘Of course not. You’re being practical, doing what you have to. I understand that. I think your dad would have, too.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Rachel let out a slow sigh under her breath. ‘Well, I had a crazy offer in today from guess who?’ Now that she had started talking it felt good to share her burden. ‘Bloody Mr Mac. And do you know what he offered?’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Five hundred pounds an acre.’

  ‘No, no way. That’s a joke.’

  ‘I know, nothing like trying to kick you while you’re down.’

  ‘Well, I hope you bloody well said no.’

  ‘Of course, I did. We’re not that desperate.’

  ‘Well, have you thought about renting the land instead? That way you get to hold onto it whilst earning some income and keeping your options open.’

  ‘Oh … hmm, well, maybe we could, but who’d want to rent just one or two fields?’

  ‘I would.’

  ‘You would?’

  ‘Yeah, I could do with some extra fields for hay this year. And, it’s on the doorstep. It could work for us both. You get some rent in and I get more land to use. I’m more than happy to pay the going rate.’

  ‘Well, yes, that could work.’ Rachel was surprised, a little stunned in fact. Could it be that easy? Was Tom actually handing her this offer on a plate?

  ‘Look, just think about it. You’ve got a lot on your mind and you’ll want to talk it over with your mum, of course.’

  It almost sounded almost too good to be true. ‘Tom, why are you so good to us?’ The cider really was loosening her tongue now.

  ‘Hey, I’m just looking out for you and the family, Rachel … any neighbour would in the circumstances.’ A jolt of a memory passed between them then, with a shared look that spoke a thousand words.

  ‘Hah, not Mr Mac though.’ Rachel broke his gaze and swiftly moved the conversation on. ‘But thanks Tom … you’re a really special friend, you know that.’ Her hand reached to brush his shoulder.

  His tone softened. ‘I know what you’ve all been through,’ he said meaningfully. ‘I just want to see you’re okay.’

  In the half-light of the pick-up’s cab, Rachel could see his warm smile reach right through to his dark brown eyes. Before she knew it, she’d leaned across, and was now only centimetres from his face. He smelt all fresh, his aftershave cool sea-notes and citrus.

  Oh my goodness, what was she doing? Surely, she wasn’t thinking of kissing him? What was up with her? Cider, that was it – she must have drunk far too much of the potent stuff, and all that lusty talk from Eve and Charlotte must be rubbing off on her. Tom was just a friend, a neighbour. Damn, she’d better get out of the pick-up right away before she embarrassed herself any further.

  ‘Right then.’ She opened the door and made a dash for it, calling out, ‘Thanks for the lift,’ over her shoulder.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ came Tom’s amused-sounding voice from the open truck window. ‘Night, Rachel.’

  ‘Night.’ She kept looking forward, making a beeline – well, a slightly wonky beeline – for the farmhouse. Luckily, Mum had left the outside light on for her.

  All was quiet and dark as she stepped inside. Maisy and Mum must be in bed asleep. Rachel stood at the kitchen window and saw the headlights swing around in the drive and then the red tail lights as Tom’s truck moved away.

  What had just happened there? Or was she making something out of nothing? It was just the excitement of the evening out that had got her, and something about being that close. But it suddenly all felt different … Like something was beginning to shift beneath her feet. Was it empathy, attraction? Hah, she’d never felt like that with Tom … ever. It was bloody disconcerting, whatever it was. Mind you, she reminded herself, she did have a bloodstream full of cider. Alcohol, that was it, warping things all out of proportion. It would seem irrelevant in the morning. Just a neighbour giving her and Eve a lift home. Just Tom.

  Chapter 14

  A PUDDING PRODUCTION LINE

  Oh boy, was Rachel struggling the next morning. Her brain felt bruised, like a herd of cattle had trampled over it through the night. It was past nine-thirty, and Rachel still had the headache from hell hanging around. She wasn’t used to drinking alcohol these days – she should have known better, as it always kicked back at her with a vengeance the next day.

  After a swift cup of coffee she forced herself out to check on the livestock. On inspecting the sheep in the Low Pasture, she spotted an abscess lump on the neck of one of the ewes. It was an infection and she knew she’d have to act quickly to help the animal. She got her first-aid kit from the Land Rover. It’d need lancing and then some Dettol wash. Oh, jeez, this was no job to undertake with a hangover, but needs must. She held her breath as the needle went in. Yuck!

  Rachel was gagging as the pus came out. The stench was horrendous and her stomach heaved. She cleaned the wound and then set the sheep on her way. It was all Rachel could do to stop herself from vomiting. She steadied herself before walking back to her vehicle, where she sat for a few moments, feeling a bit giddy. God, she was never setting foot in a watering hole ever again.

  As she was heading back across the yard to the farmhouse, for a much-needed cup of tea and s
ome paracetamol, her phone pinged with a text. She took it out to see it was from Eve.

  How’s the head, hun?! Mine’s not too great. X

  Not good x, she replied.

  Did you get any crumble last night after I’d left? X

  Hah! Rachel couldn’t help but laugh out loud reading that comment, which unfortunately made her head pound even more. Oh yes, it was all coming back now: their giggly conversation on puddings and men, well one man in particular.

  Then, she remembered nearly kissing that particular man on the cheek and her fleeing the scene. Bloody hell, how embarrassing.

  No, of course not, she answered herself. The near-kiss was one scenario she was going to keep to herself.

  She was at the front step taking off her muddy wellingtons when Eve’s reply pinged back.

  Shame – you could have told me all about it and I could have lived every moment through you!! X

  Rachel was smiling and shaking her head at the same time.

  As she entered the farmhouse kitchen, Jill rushed towards her, excitedly waving a letter in the air.

  ‘It’s from the council, we’ve passed the inspection! What a relief, eh? The kitchen area has been given the all-clear. Now that we’ve passed the exams too, we’re good to go.’ Jill beamed across at Rachel.

  ‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ It was all coming together, and it was brilliant to see Mum so enthusiastic about it all.

  ‘So, let the pudding making begin,’ announced Jill. ‘Hah, my kitchen can now become a pudding pantry.’ She was grinning as she stood beside the kitchen surface where she’d just laid all her ingredients out ready – flour, butter, brown sugar, dates and their own fresh farm eggs. ‘Blimey, I’m feeling the pressure now. I’ve got to make the best puds of my life, haven’t I?’

  ‘Don’t worry, just do what you always do, Mum, you’re a natural. Just pretend you’re baking for me and Maisy. Your puddings are always delicious.’

  ‘Right, okay. Well, I’ve got several hours before Maisy’s home from school. I think I’ll get cracking straight away. No time like the present.’