Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘Oh, I’m not sure …’ Rachel glanced across at her mum.

Jill was quick to respond. ‘Go on, get yourself away. Look how quiet it’s been; I’ll manage just fine.’

True, there was only one couple in, sitting having a shared pudding platter with a pot of tea.

‘But, what about Maisy?’

‘Well, Maisy can come along too. The more the merrier. Hey, Maisy what do you think?’ asked Tom.

‘Yay! Where are we going?’ She was skipping across the room towards Tom already.

‘Well, why don’t you choose? I was thinking maybe a walk and then a lunch out, somewhere not too far away. So, what about the woods and a pub lunch, or there’s always the beach. What do you fancy, young lady?’

‘Can we take Moss?’

‘Yeah, why not, and Mabel can come too.’

‘Good. Well, we were doing the squirrels at school. We could go and see their houses in the woods.’

‘Sounds good to me. Rachel?’

Tom turned to face her, his dark brown eyes catching hers with a warmth that made her insides melt. She answered with a broad grin. A little break would be bliss, and with all her recent worries, it might be just what she needed. She felt a tad guilty leaving Mum to manage on her own with the tearoom, but Jill seemed happy to help, and Rachel could always offer to help her mum out another day to give her some time out too.

‘Thanks, Mum. I’ll make sure we’re not out too long.’

‘It’s no problem, now go off and enjoy yourselves.’

Half an hour later, they were strolling through the woods at Kirkton Burn. They meandered along a slightly muddy path beside a stream which was lined by beech, oak and ash trees. Leaves had been tossed down by the autumn breeze and swept into heaps of gold, copper and bronze. Burnished bracken tumbled in crisp feathery strands alongside.

‘Wheee!’ Maisy was off, kicking up the crisp piles of leaves with her wellington boots, revealing the soggier heaps that lay beneath. Musky, earthy smells filled the air. And the leaves fell once more around the three of them like autumn-gold confetti.

‘Hah, bet I can kick up more than you,’ said Tom, challenging Maisy with a grin.

And the three of them started a welly-boot-lifting leaf fight and even Moss and Mabel joined in, dashing around them in daft circles, barking, with Moss trying to catch the odd one in his mouth. Maisy was giggling, and Tom and Rachel leaned against each other, slightly out of breath, at the end of it. Rachel couldn’t ignore the burst of happiness spreading in her chest.

They began to walk once more, Maisy moving in close beside Tom and taking his hand. Rachel had to smile, watching them; they were so easy and natural together. Maisy looked up at the trees and asked Tom what a squirrel’s nest would look like.

‘Well, I know it’s called a drey,’ Tom answered, ‘and it’s made out of lots of twigs with moss and such like, and they’ll be up high in the branches. I think they’re about the size of a football.’

‘What about that one?’ Maisy was pointing up towards a fork in the branches.

Sure enough, there was indeed a nest in the tree above them. The three of them paused to look up.

‘Good spot, Maisy. It might well be, yes. But I’m no expert. It could be a squirrel’s nest, or perhaps a bird’s.’

‘Well, I think it’s a squirrel’s,’ proclaimed Maisy, with a smile. ‘I wonder if there are any babies in there.’

‘I doubt if there would be at this time of year. It’ll be getting a bit cold for them to have little ones. Most likely in the spring.’

‘Ah, okay.’ Her little girl was taking it all in.

Unlike her real and mostly absent father, Jake, having Maisy about didn’t seem to be a chore for Tom. It lifted Rachel’s spirits seeing the pair of them happy together. Tom would make a great dad. An image of her and Tom and Maisy as a family filtered unexpectedly into her mind. Dare she hope that could ever work out one day? But it was all too soon. A little daydream. She’d just enjoy the moment and see where life took them for now.

They enjoyed their pub lunch out at the Black Bull Inn in the little town of Kirkton on their way back. Rachel and Tom tucked into a meal of steak pie with vegetables, while Maisy had a tasty-looking homemade fish finger sandwich. By a cosy log fire, with a glass of red wine to hand and good company, Rachel hadn’t felt so content in a long while.

She felt so comfortable with Tom, and seeing Maisy so happy with him warmed her soul. But all too soon it was time to get back – she’d need to help Mum out at the Pantry before going to do the dusk checks on the animals and the farm. Tom had mentioned he had some chores to do too.

Back at Primrose Farm, they unbuckled their seat belts, ready to get out. Rachel really didn’t want the magic of the afternoon to end, but life and work had a way of taking over again. Maisy had already skipped down out of the jeep, and was heading into the barn to tell Jill all about her leaf walk in the woods – she’d brought home a few special ones in her coat pocket to show her grandma – and their lunch out, including her chocolate ice cream for pudding.

Tom leaned across the cab of the truck towards Rachel. His kiss was warm and tender and loving, and she so wished she could carry this on somewhere else, somewhere very private indeed. But that wasn’t to be. Not tonight.

Reluctantly, she drew away, her lips missing his already. ‘Thank you so much, Tom. It’s been a wonderful afternoon, and I know Maisy loved it too.’

‘You are very welcome. She’s a good kid.’

‘Thanks. I think so too.’ She gave a happy sigh. ‘Sorry, but I’d really better go on in now and help Mum.’

‘Yeah, I ought to get away too.’

Rachel hovered – this moment felt too precious to leave. Just one more brief kiss on the lips, a few more seconds together … Rachel moved back towards the scent of his aftershave, feeling the slight scratch of his beard where it was growing in, and meeting the soft fullness of his lips. She lingered there for a few more glorious seconds. Right, she really had better go now, or Maisy and Jill would be at the Pantry door wondering what was holding them up.

‘Bye,’ said Rachel, as she reluctantly pulled away, her voice a little husky.

‘See you soon.’

‘Yeah. See you.’

She stood and waved, watching his pickup drive off down the track. He gave a chirpy toot on the horn. She’d never felt like this before about a man and it was so good – but she couldn’t deny that frightened her too. She knew just how vulnerable life and relationships could be. Yes, she knew that very well.

7

Sunday had been yet another quiet day at the Pantry. Rachel was still at a loss as to how to get more customers over the threshold. Frosty mornings and November chills would soon be on their doorstep, and though December should bring some welcome pre-Christmas trade, it was likely that the next few weeks would remain slow. And, with that, the farm’s bank balance was on a very slippery slope.

The next day at four thirty on the dot, Rachel was standing outside the Kirkton First School gates, her breath misting in the chill air. With a burst of heavy wooden doors, and a blast of chatter, out came the little ones in a rush across the playground, still wearing their gym gear with their coats mostly half-mast over the top.

Suddenly, there was Maisy, with a bounce of blonde curls, dashing forward and waving. ‘Aw, that was so good, Mummy. I love Gym Club. We did tumbles with music today.’

‘It was fun,’ added Amelia, who was close on Maisy’s heels, with a sunny grin. Rachel was collecting the two of them today.

This was their second week attending, and they were so happy with their new after-school club activity. The idea of going to a club seemed different than classroom work somehow. It was sociable, and fun, yet they were still learning.

A club … Something about that was starting to oil the cogs in Rachel’s mind. What was it that was nagging at her?

‘Wowser, I’ve got it!’ she blurted out.

‘What have you got, Mummy?’ Maisy looked at her quizzically.

‘A club. We need a Pudding Club!’ Oh yes, something to draw people out to the Pantry on those dull autumn and winter nights. Cosy puddings, in a cosy barn … They’d just invested the last of the summer earnings on installing that log-burning stove; it would be perfect in there on a chilly winter’s evening.

‘But we don’t make puddings at school, Mummy.’ Maisy had her hands on her hips and was frowning.

‘Not at school, petal. At our farm … in the Pudding Pantry.’

‘Oh, a club for making puddings? But doesn’t Grandma Jill do the making bit?’ Maisy looked nonplussed.

‘Yes, but other people could come along and eat puddings, and maybe learn how to make puddings, have a chat, make new friends, share recipes over a cup of tea.’ The ideas were flowing already.

‘Could they have cupcakes?’ Maisy grinned, catching on to the idea.

‘Yes, sometimes, why not? We could have Cupcake Week, Crumble Week, all sorts.’ Rachel’s mind was firing now.

‘Ooh, that sounds nice,’ said Amelia.

‘Can I come?’ Maisy was starting to warm to the suggestion.

‘Oh, well, I think it’ll most likely be in the evening, petal.’ Rachel imagined an evening might work better as the club would need to be something different from their usual tearoom opening hours. ‘So, it would be past your bedtime. But maybe you could come along to the first one, and then we’ll see.’

‘Okay.’

‘Could my mummy come?’ Amelia asked.

‘Yes, of course, if she wanted to. I’ll need to speak with Grandma Jill and see what she thinks about the club thing first, but yes I’ll let your mummy know all about it if we decide to go ahead.’

They were back at the Land Rover now, the girls clambering in to the passenger side, ready to be belted up. Moss nudged a damp black nose over from the back to welcome them.

Maisy patted his soft furry head. ‘Hi, Mossy.’

Driving along the country roads, the girls chatted between themselves as Rachel’s mind whirred with this new Pudding Club idea. She couldn’t wait to discuss it with Jill. They were soon pulling up outside Amelia’s pretty stone cottage, just up the lane from Primrose Farm.

Eve came out to thank her friend for collecting the girls, just as Rachel was helping Amelia down from the Jeep.

‘Hey, sweetie pie.’

‘Hi, Mummy.’

Eve took Amelia by the hand, as her little girl announced, ‘Mummy, Rachel’s making a Pudding Club.’

‘Ooh, that sounds fun.’ Eve looked at Rachel, her brow quirked with interest.

‘You can go too, if you want,’ Amelia continued.

‘Still in the planning stage,’ Rachel explained. ‘Need to broach it with Mum, yet. So, I’ll tell you all about it soon. It was the girls here who gave me a brainwave.’

‘Good, good. Well, maybe we can catch up over a cup of coffee sometime. Seems ages since we’ve done that.’

‘That sounds good. And yeah, I’ve been a bit snowed under lately. The farm, the pressures with the Pudding Pantry …’

‘No worries, hun, I know life’s fraught at the moment. Same here, we can’t catch our breath, can we? But how’s the delicious Tom anyway?’ Eve asked with a cheeky twinkle in her eye. Eve had had a little crush on Tom for some time now, which she didn’t try to hide. It was just a source of light-hearted banter, and she was happily married to Ben after all, so Rachel was happy to go along with the joke.

‘He’s fine, thank you. Very good in fact.’

‘Not too good, I hope,’ Eve added with a cheeky grin.

‘Hah, I’m saying no more.’

‘Well, thanks for fetching Amelia. My turn next week. And let me know when you can drop by, I’ll make sure there’s some fresh brownies made.’

‘Perfect. Oh, and keep the night of Fifth November free. Me and Mum are planning a small fireworks party at the farm. Just something low-key.’

‘Sounds good. We don’t have any plans for Bonfire Night, so that’d be great. Thanks, hun. Catch you later, then.’

‘Cheers, Eve. Bye!’

‘Bye, Eve. Bye, Melia,’ chanted Maisy, happily waving from her seat in the Land Rover.

Back at the farmhouse kitchen they were greeted by the warming smells of minced beef and onions. Jill was standing at the Aga, cooking supper.

‘Hi Mum, we’re home. How was this afternoon?’ Rachel asked. She’d been out and about on the farm for several hours, checking fences once more along with their farmhand, Simon, so hadn’t had chance to look in on Jill before leaving to fetch the girls. ‘Did it get any busier?’

‘Not a great deal. There was a family and then a couple in. The family were staying in a holiday cottage up the valley, they were nice and chatty. The others were on a day trip from Alnwick for a change of scenery, had some tea and shared a scone between them. Oh, and Brenda from the Deli called, they’ve sold six puddings this week, so I need to top up the Sticky Toffee supplies there, so that was a bit of good news.’

A bit of positive news, yes, Rachel mused, and a step in the right direction, but it wasn’t exactly going to cover the mounting bills.

‘Grandma, Grandma! Mummy wants to make a Pudding Club,’ Maisy blurted out. News certainly travelled fast when five-year-olds got to know it! And though Rachel was excited about the idea, she had intended to broach the matter a little later on when she and Jill were on their own and would have the chance to chat it over properly.

‘Well, that’s the cat out of the bag. Thanks, Maisy.’ Never tell a child anything you didn’t want shared! ‘Well, it’s just a thought I’ve had, we can talk about it over supper, maybe.’

‘A Pudding Club? Hmm, sounds like it might be quite fun. Something like a cooking class, do you mean?’ Rachel was pleased that she’d got Jill’s attention.

‘Maybe, but nothing as formal as that. We could have puddings to taste, share baking tips, a chance to chat and relax with a cuppa … maybe themed nights, even.’

‘Okay, but it might be a lot of work. We’ll have to think on it, won’t we?’ Jill didn’t sound totally sold on the idea yet.

Oh dear, did it feel to Jill like Rachel was loading more work on to her? She hadn’t thought of that.

‘Look, I know it’s a big ask, and we can chat some more about it in a while. I still need to pop out and do my last checks around the farm.’

‘Okay, pet.’ Jill lifted a large casserole pot out of the Aga, resting it on the top as she popped in eight round balls of herby dumplings. ‘Supper will be ready in about twenty minutes.’

‘That’s great.’ After baking and looking after the Pantry all day, here was Jill still cooking and caring for her family. Rachel didn’t take her for granted, but maybe she needed to show her gratitude a little more often. ‘And thanks, Mum. You look after us all so well.’

‘Isn’t that what mums are for, love?’

‘Well, some are better at it than others, I’m sure … and you’re up there with the best.’

Jill beamed.

‘Maisy, do you want to come on out with me?’ Rachel asked.

It was already getting dark outside, and the kitchen was a cosy haven. Maisy had her school coat and shoes off and was stroking Moss, who’d sneaked up and joined her on the chair beside the Aga. ‘I’ll stay with Grandma.’

‘Okay, I won’t be long.’

Rachel couldn’t wait to get the last farm chores done and get back in herself, but she could never rest easy if she hadn’t seen for herself that the farm animals were all fine and settled for the night.

Up at the Top Field Rachel’s mobile buzzed into life. She stopped the quad.

‘Hi, Rach.’ It was Tom.

‘Oh hi, you okay?’

‘Yep. Look, when do I get to see you again? It was great in the woods at the weekend with Maisy, but I’d love some time just for us too. Can you make tonight? The other evening was pretty special.’

‘Yes, it was really lovely.’ Her mind wandered back to that sensual night by the fireside at Tom’s house. But she’d already promised to go back tonight and chat further with Mum about the Pudding Club idea; they couldn’t afford to rest on their laurels with the Pudding Pantry. It had needed energy and a huge commitment to get this business off the ground, and would need even more to make it a success.

‘Oh, Tom, much as I’d love to, I can’t see you tonight, sorry.’

‘Tomorrow?’ He wasn’t one to give up easily.

The following night was set aside for the mammoth pile of farming paperwork she hadn’t managed to get around to today.

‘Umm, look, I’ll see you at your elevenses.’

‘Is that it? I can’t make love to you over a bacon sandwich in the middle of the Pudding Pantry.’

Rachel couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Oh, why on earth not?’ She was trying to keep her tone deadpan.

‘For a start, Frank’s false teeth might fall out with the shock, and I don’t think your mother would approve.’

‘Hah, maybe not.’

‘I’m serious though, Rach.’ His voice softened, sounding so earnest. ‘I’d love to see you again soon.’

God, she wanted to see him, to be with him, too, not be stuck under a pile of paperwork, but that wasn’t going to keep the farm afloat. Her life seemed to be a never-ending To Do list right now. It was no wonder it was hard to find time to be together. She wasn’t young, free and single, like other girls her age might be. Well, she might still be young – twenty-four was hardly ancient – but she was a mother, and tied to a farm and a business. Would Tom prefer a no-strings-attached kind of girl, where every night could be date night? That thought made her feel uneasy.

‘Just give me a day or two to get things straight, okay, and then I’ll try and free up an evening. I’ll see if Mum’s all right to look after Maisy, or maybe Eve will step in. We could go out for a drink or something. Or just stay in?’

‘All right, I suppose I’ll just have to wait. And don’t forget our rendezvous at elevenses,’ he added more chirpily.

‘How could I?’

‘See you then’.

‘Bye.’ She turned off the mobile, and found herself smiling. Amid all the To Dos, the chores, paperwork and bills, Tom Watson was a warm beacon of light. She just prayed he’d manage to stay aglow for her.

‘So, come on, tell me more about this Pudding Club idea, then?’ Jill asked, as the three of them were sat around the kitchen table with plates loaded with mince, dumplings, carrots and cabbage, fresh from their vegetable patch.

‘Okay, so I’m thinking that the Pudding Pantry is already a lovely cosy place to meet up. So, the Pudding Club will have to be a bit different. A chance to come in, make new friends, and learn something. It’ll be about all things pudding and baking, with ideas and recipes, and tastings … Ooh yes, we’ll have to have a little taster of something delicious from the Pantry to try.’

‘We can taste cupcakes!’ came Maisy’s suggestion with a big grin.

‘Hmm, it does sound interesting. So, do we charge for customers to come in? How would it work? We’d have to cover our costs and make a little bit extra ourselves, to make it worthwhile.’

‘Of course, we’ll have to think about the price. And we’d need to decide on a theme for each week or fortnight, or however often we decide to hold it.’

‘Weekly might prove a bit hard to come up with enough rolling ideas, but twice a month might work well,’ Jill pondered.

‘So, fortnightly then,’ Rachel continued, ‘with a pudding to taste – something that fits with that session’s theme. It’d be great to have a festive one in the lead-up to Christmas, and maybe a recipe to hand out and chat about.’

‘Oh well, we can’t be giving away all the Baking Bible secrets, you know.’ Jill looked rather affronted.

‘I know, but just one example, or a twist on one of your classics. Look, say it was Crumble Night or something, then the group could chat about favourite crumble recipes and flavours. We’d have one or two to taste, and of course,’ Rachel gave a little wink, ‘some more ready to buy to take away at the counter.’ Rachel’s business mind was firing up now.

‘Yes … I can see how that might work.’

‘Well, I think we should have an ice-cream night,’ Maisy added her thoughts on the matter, beaming.

‘Oh, now then,’ Rachel smiled across at her little girl, ‘that might work well. Hmm, “which ice-cream flavours go best with our puddings”? That’s a great idea, Maisy.’

‘Well done, Maisy. A pudding pairing session.’ Jill was smiling too, evidently warming to the idea.

‘We could invite someone from the local dairy along for that, and later on we could have other guest speakers.’ Rachel was thinking out loud. ‘Doing that will give us lots more ideas for the future and pair us with other local businesses too. I like it.’

Maisy beamed proudly, then took up a forkful of tasty carrots.

‘Though I do think the ice-cream evening might be something to keep up our sleeve for next spring or summer, when the weather’s a bit warmer,’ added Jill. ‘But, it’s a really great idea, Maisy.’

‘Hey, what a team!’ Rachel made a high-five in the air, and Maisy leaned across to clap it with her palm. ‘Well then, we’ll think a bit more on it yet, and I’ll make sure to cost it out, but I think the Pudding Club has legs, don’t you?’

‘It’s certainly food for thought, love.’

‘Yeah … well, let’s sleep on it and we’ll chat more about it at the Pantry tomorrow.’

‘Yes, that sounds good. So, young lady, how was your day at school today?’ asked Jill, moving things on. ‘All you’ve talked about was gym club since you got back. What else have you been up to then?’

‘Umm, we made pictures from leaves. Crunchy ones like we found in the woods, Mummy, and we painted them, then pressed them on to paper so the colour came off.’

‘Like a leaf print,’ said Rachel.

‘Yes. They looked really pretty. We’re going to put them up on the class wall.’

‘That sounds good,’ added Jill.

‘Oh! And,’ Maisy started pulling an oh-my-gosh face, ‘Matthew Timpson wasn’t feeling very well. And guess what, Grandma? He was sick in the playground.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘All over Sarah Scott’s shoes! It was yucky and lumpy and yellow and Sarah screamed so loud.’

‘Ah, okay, Maisy. Not really suitable dinner table conversation,’ Rachel warned, though secretly she was chuckling to herself, imagining the chaotic scene in the playground.

‘Poor Matthew,’ said Jill.

‘Hah, well I’d be really cross if he was sick on my shoes,’ Maisy said huffily.

‘Yes, but he couldn’t have helped it,’ added Rachel.

‘Well, he could have been sick somewhere else!’ That was Maisy’s final proclamation on the matter.

Rachel and Jill couldn’t help but smile.

Rachel listened to the dinner table chatter with warmth and appreciation for her little family. And with the new Pudding Club plans came a new sense of hope and purpose between them. Though times were still tough at Primrose Farm, the Swinton girls were a team and they were trying to plough forward – they were all in it together.

The Fourth Bake of Christmas

Blackberry and Apple Jam Sponge Pudding – Grandma Isabel’s Recipe, circa 1946

This handwritten poem had always been tucked into the Baking Bible as a loose leaf next to a recipe of Rachel’s grandmother’s:

Autumn days, the sky a blue haze.

Blackberry picking,

Hedgerows thick with brambles,

Watch out for the prickles.

Purple-stained fingers and mouths,

Ripe dark berries sweet with juice,

Baskets laden.

Ready for home, pass on to Mum,

With crumbles, jams and puddings to come!

Recipe:

100g/4oz self-raising flour

Pinch of salt

100g/4oz caster sugar

100g/4oz butter

2 eggs, beaten

2tbsp whole milk

45ml/3tbsp homemade or good quality Blackberry and Apple Jam (or other flavour if you prefer)