Summer at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

Frank, who’d been listening in, called out, ‘Yes, please. I’ll be your taste-tester if you like.’

‘Of course, you can be the first to try it out, Frank,’ replied Jill with a grin.

A couple arrived, whose rugged footwear and practical clothing suggested they’d been out hiking. They asked for two coffees whilst browsing the glass counter with wide eyes as they discovered the delicious selection.

‘How to choose?’ The man raised his eyebrows.

‘I know,’ agreed the woman. ‘Everything looks so delicious.’

‘Well, you can always have a couple of things and share,’ suggested Rachel.

‘Or, they do a fabulous pudding platter,’ chipped in Frank with a wink. ‘Why just have one or two things when you can taste three or four,’ he added naughtily. ‘The new summer selection sounds divine.’

‘Well, we’d better have one of those then,’ the gentleman said in a lilting Yorkshire accent. ‘Just the thing after a bracing walk in the hills.’

‘Oh, it’ll have been lovely up there this morning,’ commented Rachel.

‘It was indeed; the views were stunning,’ his partner added, as they settled down at a nearby table.

As Jill went to serve the pudding platter a few minutes later, Rachel stopped her in her tracks. ‘Wait, that looks amazing, Mum. Let me take a quick pic, and I’ll pop it straight on to our Instagram and Facebook pages. The puddings look sooo pretty.’

‘And delicious too,’ Frank chipped in.

‘Yes,’ Rachel continued, ‘seeing a picture of that summer selection might well help entice a few more customers in.’

Rachel liked to keep their social media pages updated, and with images like that going online, their followers’ mouths would soon be watering.

A bustling half-hour followed, with several more customers turning up. Then they had space for a quick breather and a cup of tea for themselves.

‘We need to have a proper think about the food for the wedding, Mum. It’s less than seven weeks away now. We did say we’d make all the puddings ourselves … and we need to create some kind of savoury buffet for the afternoon reception, as well as the hog roast that Tom has got organised for the evening.’

Costs for the wedding had already been mounting. If they made the buffet themselves it would certainly save them some much-needed funds, but they were well aware it would be a lot of extra work. ‘We’ll need to decide exactly what we’ll be baking,’ Rachel continued, starting to spiral a little, ‘or it’ll creep up on us all too fast. And … there’s so much else to think of too.’ Rachel had to admit it was beginning to feel a bit overwhelming. They were still to finalise the flowers, table decorations, favours, some thank you gifts … the list went on. Thank goodness the dress at least was sorted. ‘So, we’ll need to be organised as far ahead as we can.’

‘Puddings for a wedding … Hmm, I’ll get my Queen of the Pudding Pantry thinking cap on.’ With a broad smile, Jill raised the bespoke mug that Rachel had bought her last Christmas. ‘Don’t you worry, Rachel. It’ll all work out wonderfully, I’m sure.’

Rachel hoped they’d manage to pull it all together in the end. But organising a wedding, her own wedding, on top of the farming chores and looking after Maisy seemed a big ask right now. She hated being the centre of attention at the best of times, and she now wondered if inviting what felt like the whole of the small town of Kirkton had been wise.

After a further busy spell over the lunch time, Tom appeared in his farming gear. ‘Afternoon, ladies.’

‘We missed you this morning,’ said Jill. You could set your watch by Tom’s bacon sandwich at elevenses.

Rachel had missed him last night too. Having been away all weekend, she’d stayed home with Maisy for the early evening, and then – just as she’d hoped to call round to Tom’s after putting her little girl to bed – he’d ended up having to dash out to help a farming friend bring a cow and her calf down into their shed; the cow having got herself caught up in some broken wire and in a bit of a state. So, they hadn’t had the evening together they’d hoped for.

‘Ah, I know, I was kept away earlier with a delivery. But, I’ve managed to wangle a couple of free hours this afternoon. So, I was wondering if …’ He raised his eyebrows enquiringly at Rachel. She shrugged her shoulders as she busied herself with the coffee machine. Much as she’d love to escape with Tom, she should really be helping her mum here at the Pantry.

‘Jill, can I possibly steal your daughter for a few hours, do you think? We have important wedding plans to make.’ He gave his warmest smile, the one that always made Rachel melt.

Jill wiped her hands on her apron. ‘Oh, well, I don’t see why not … it’s bound to quieten off a bit now that lunch time’s over. And it’s after-school club for Maisy tonight, isn’t it, Rachel? So, I’m sure I can manage here.’

‘Are you sure, Mum?’

Jill nodded.

‘Well, we could pick Maisy up on the way back, I suppose. That would work, wouldn’t it, Tom?’ Rachel was still feeling a little guilty at leaving her mum in the lurch.

‘Of course. No problem.’

‘Go on then, get yourself away, lass. Before I get a chance to change my mind.’

‘Thank you, Mum.’ Rachel whipped off her apron and leapt around the other side of the counter.

‘Cheers, Jill, we owe you one,’ Tom beamed.

Forty minutes later, strolling the golden sands of Low Newton Bay, with the ruins of Dunstanburgh Castle creating a dramatic backdrop on the far cliffs, and Tom holding her hand, Rachel felt a sense of happy calm. The smell of salt and sea filled the air. The sun glinted in silver bursts off the waves that rolled gently into the shore. They’d made their escape to the coast, and they finally had a little time to themselves.

‘It’s gorgeous here, isn’t it?’ Rachel took in the panoramic seascape.

‘Yeah, don’t know why we don’t try and get down here more often.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Work … the farms … Pudding Pantry to run.’ She pulled at his arm playfully.

‘Well yes, there is all that.’

‘But yes, it’s lovely just to take a bit of time out. I’m getting spoilt, what with a weekend away and now this … Heaven forbid I’ll get used to it. Anyway, what are these wedding plans you needed to discuss so urgently?’ Tom had been happy to let her, Jill, and maid of honour Eve, get on with most of the organising up until now. He’d been firmly in agreement that they should have a big celebration back at Primrose Farm after the church wedding in Kirkton but, as for the finer details, he was grateful for them to take the lead.

‘Ah, well,’ he looked a little sheepish, ‘I have to confess it was just a ploy to get you away early.’

‘Hah, so I’ve been brought here under false pretences,’ she pulled a pretend-grumpy face. ‘Sneaky.’

‘Guilty as charged.’ He grinned.

‘But we probably do have loads of things to catch up on wedding-wise, you know. Like, did you finally sort your suit out and those you need to hire for the best man and ushers?’

‘Of course. All done. I have found the perfect attire for us all, and we’ll look very smart indeed.’ He gave a wink.

‘Those grey suits I pointed out online?’

He pursed his lips and gave a slow nod, looking a little sheepish.

She wasn’t buying it, Tom definitely had something up his sleeve, but she couldn’t work out what.

‘Yeah, so no need to fret, I’ve got everything sorted for us men. We’ll look great, don’t you worry.’

They walked hand in hand, Rachel’s fingers slotted through Tom’s, as if it was where they belonged. Strolling further along the bay, away from the dog walkers, the picnickers and the children building sandcastles, they discovered a sand-filled dip in the dunes, hidden from view of the beach, where they decided to sit for a while and make the most of the sunny afternoon.

‘Ah, bliss.’ Rachel stretched out, the sand warm beneath her, feeling the tingle of the sun on her face.

They were soon lying side by side, holding hands, looking up at the fluffy white clouds slowly scudding across the sky. It was nice just to stop and be still, to take a moment out of their hectic lives. And, it was so very nice to be lying here next to Tom.

‘So, what do you see up there?’ Tom asked, gazing up at the sky.

‘Some clouds and blue sky.’

‘Hah, practical as always. Look again, do you see that boat moving out of the cloud mass over there, and oh, the face of a wolf in that one? Two pointy ears and a sharp nose.’

‘Yeah, I can just about make that out.’

He should have been playing this game with Maisy, Rachel mused. She had the imagination; she’d have spotted a full zoo and more by now. Rachel was just happy seeing a lovely blue sky, and having this gorgeous man by her side. She gave a contented sigh. Tom had slotted into her and Maisy’s lives so well. She’d been anxious at first about bringing a new father figure into her daughter’s life, but he had moved slowly and thoughtfully into that role. Tom didn’t have any children from his previous marriage – his relationship with the infamous Caitlin had ended in a rather bitter divorce five years ago – but, despite never having had a child of his own, he seemed a natural.

She rolled towards him, quickly checking that there didn’t seem to be anyone around in this part of the dunes. ‘I do think I might just have to block your view, however.’ She grinned cheekily as she climbed on board, until she was flat out over him, legs to legs, chest to chest, face to face. She smiled foxily as she dipped her chin, edging her mouth towards his, their lips meeting in a gorgeously sexy kiss. Her body tingling from top to toe, feeling so alive. Tom’s arms tightened around her back, holding her closer still.

‘Shame there are people about, just down there …’ sighed Tom, as he drew away to take a breath.

‘Hmm, but I’m sure they haven’t banned kissing in public quite yet, and we are fully clothed.’

‘I know. But … it’s killing me. It’s like revving up the engine and not being able to go anywhere.’ He gave a frustrated grin.

Rachel laughed, then moved in for kiss number two – such glorious and heart-warming seconds, enjoying the feeling of his cheeky erection beneath her.

‘Well, you’ll just have to wait, Mr Watson.’ She smiled, then nibbled his ear lobe ever so gently.

‘Nope, no, no. That’ll send me over the edge, you minx.’

Rachel leapt up from him, laughing, ‘Okay then, last one down to the sea’s a ninny.’

Tom scrambled after her.

She could feel the thud of his feet in the sand just behind her as she ran full pelt down the dune bank and away to the shore, pulling off her trainers in the final few metres before dashing right up to her knees in the chilly water.

Tom swept her up in his arms, about to dunk her into the waves.

‘So, I’m a ninny, am I?’

‘Yes!’

With one swift movement, he dipped her body until her head touched the cold sea froth.

‘No, no, no!’

They were both laughing. He dipped her once more, enough to dampen her hair.

‘No, stop, I’ll end up all curls,’ she giggled.

‘I love your curls.’ He dipped her again.

‘Ooo-kay, no more. I surrender, I’ll get brain freeze!’

The legs of Tom’s jeans were soaked through; as he deposited Rachel back on the sands, they both looked down at his sodden legs, grinning.

‘Do you think they’ll still let us in the pub? I fancy a quick pint,’ said Tom.

‘Yeah, course. It is the beach, after all. We might manage to bag a seat outside anyhow.’

‘Have you eaten?’

‘Nah, I was too busy serving at lunch time,’ answered Rachel. ‘I’d forgotten. Hmm, I am feeling a bit peckish …’

‘Right then, to the pub it is.’

They were soon perched on a wooden bench outside the Ship Inn, tucking in to fresh crab sandwiches and a bowl of homemade chips, all salt and vinegary – delicious. They chatted as they ate, Rachel sipping a glass of chilled white wine while Tom enjoyed a half-pint of the local ale, soaking up the atmosphere of a sunny afternoon by the sea.

All too soon, it was time to head back. Maisy’s after-school gym club would be finishing in half an hour, and they’d have to be there in time to collect her. Back to mum mode, back to reality.

‘Time to go …’ Rachel admitted reluctantly.

‘Yep, it is indeed. I’ve got a few things to finish up on the farm too.’

‘It’s been lovely, Tom. Thank you for whisking me away.’

‘The pleasure’s all mine,’ answered Tom.

He gathered their glasses and took them back inside to the bar, whilst Rachel took a last look at the rippling blue of the sea. It had been a gorgeous afternoon.

Hmm, maybe she could call and see Tom later this evening, and pick up where they’d left off in the dunes …

Heading back inland in Tom’s truck, Rachel gazed across at her fiancé. ‘Won’t it be great when we don’t have to keep saying goodbye, when we can go home together, just be together …’

With their wedding in less than two months’ time, it would be a wonderful reality. Going home with Tom and Maisy, back to Primrose Farm.

‘Yeah,’ his smile was warm, genuine, ‘knowing that when I get back from a day out in the fields, or on the tractor, that you’ll be there, you and Maisy, back at my farmhouse.’

At my farmhouse.

Oh … did he imagine she and Maisy would be moving in there with him?

Rachel had assumed he’d move in with them, there at Primrose Farm, and maybe put his farmhouse up for rent or something. Primrose was Maisy’s home; it was all her little girl had ever known. Dammit, it was all Rachel had ever known. It was where she’d grown up with Dad, Mum. It was home. She felt a wrench in her heart just thinking about leaving.

‘Ah … did you mean … you want us to move in with you?’ She tried to keep the tremble from her voice, reasoning with herself that it was only a mile down the road.

‘Well, yeah. I just thought … with your mum still living at the farm, you’d want to come over to mine, have some privacy. Our own space. Me, you and Maisy. I can do up the spare room for her, let her choose the colours and all that.’

Rachel was still trying to process this. Her mouth an ‘o’ of surprise. Why the hell hadn’t they had this conversation before? She’d just assumed, very naively as it turned out, that they’d be staying put … but then apparently, so had he …

‘Well, you can still carry on looking after Primrose easily from there, and the Pantry and everything’s close by.’

‘Oh, but it’d mean moving Maisy … it might be unsettling for her.’

‘I’m sure she’d be fine, Rach, kids adapt. We needn’t all be crammed under one roof, and it makes sense for Jill to stay put; it’s her home and where she does the baking for the Pantry, after all.’

Rachel opened her mouth to speak but found herself tongue-tied. For Tom it was obviously a done deal. Straightforward, in fact. But, as Rachel looked out of the truck window at the country lanes whizzing by, she was reeling.

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