Page 8 of Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘No, it’s fine, Mum. I’d like to go.’ However tired she felt, even at lambing time, she liked to spend some time with Maisy before and after school.

‘Well, are you peckish, pet? You haven’t eaten any breakfast yet. Shall I make you some scrambled eggs for when you get back?’

‘That sounds perfect. Thank you.’

They kept a dozen or so of their own hens, who wandered around the farm, pecking away and fluffing their feathers. They were happily free range by day and settled in their coops at night, which kept them safe from any foxes or other prey. Their eggs were delicious with orange-gold yolks – just perfect served scrambled or poached on thick farmhouse toast.

Ten minutes later, Rachel and Maisy had left the house and were out in the yard.

‘Can I see Petie before I go?’ Maisy gave her mum the cutest of smiles.

‘Maisy, you’re in your smart school clothes and best shoes. You’ll get filthy in the shed.’ Rachel did have her wellies on though. Looking at her daughter’s cheeky grin, she caved. ‘Ah okay, a quick one-minute hello. But just look, no touching, as we haven’t got time to go and wash hands again. Come on, I’ll carry you across.’ She hoisted her up onto her hip and headed across to the lambing shed.

The pet lambs were sectioned off in a pen near the front, so Rachel lifted Maisy to look in at them.

‘Hello, Petie boy! See you later!’ Maisy shouted, waving at the little fella.

He looked up and gave a baa in return, then skipped towards them, hopeful of another feed. The other pet lambs were snuggled together beside a large bale of straw. They all seemed to be doing fine, although one – number 34 – was still a lot smaller than the rest. Rachel would have to keep an extra eye on him, but he seemed lively enough just now, getting up to his feet.

They spotted Simon across in the shed and gave him a wave.

‘Have a good day at school, Maisy,’ he called across.

‘Hello, Simon. I will.’

‘Morning, Simon. Everything been okay since I left?’

‘Just grand, lass.’

‘Right, we’d better go, Maisy. Don’t want you missing the bus.’

The two of them made their way down the farm track, hand in hand. Thankfully, Maisy enjoyed school. She’d only started six months ago but had settled in well at Kirkton’s First School, in the small market town that was just three miles from the farm. Maisy was such a sociable girl, she enjoyed seeing her friends as much as the learning.

The lane down to the road was bordered by grassy banks and spring had arrived with a mass of pale-yellow primroses, that nestled beneath the hawthorn hedges each side. At the roadside verge there were clusters of bold yellow daffodils swaying in the breeze, ready to welcome any visitors to the farm. Rachel made sure she kept the grass each side of the farm gate short and well-tended. Her dad had always insisted the entrance was neat and tidy. ‘First impressions, Rachel. First impressions,’ he’d say in his deep, resonant voice. She took a deep breath, feeling that familiar pang of sorrow.

She spotted her good friend Eve, heading down the lane towards them with her little girl, Amelia – Maisy’s bestie. They had walked down from their nearby cottage. It saved the minibus an awkward turnaround in the narrow lane.

‘Hi Eve. Hello, Amelia.’ Rachel gave a cheery wave.

‘Hiya, Rachel. You okay? Surviving lambing?’ Eve asked, pulling a grimace. It was well known in country circles that lambing was the most exhausting time of the farming year.

‘Yes, we’re getting there. Bit of a tense time last night though …’

The bus then arrived, pulling up beside them, and the girls got on with their school bags and packed-lunch-filled rucksacks swinging. The adults hopped on too, saying a quick hello to Ted, the driver, and checking that the girls had everything with them and that their seatbelts were done up. After a kiss and a ‘Have a good day’ each, they got off again, waving as the bus set away.

‘So, you were saying? An eventful night?’ Eve asked.

‘Oh yes … life in the lambing shed. A Texel was in trouble, the lamb stuck. But thank heavens it was all fine in the end … with a bit of early-morning help from Tom.’

‘Ah, the delectable Tom. Your dishy next-door farmer.’ There was no hiding that Eve, despite being happily married to Ben, had had a bit of a crush on Tom for several years now, which always amused Rachel. Eve hadn’t batted an eyelid when their childhood friend Tom had moved away to the city – largely under influence, or so Rachel heard, from his new wife Caitlin – but ever since he’d arrived back at the farm, newly single, Eve had seen him with new eyes. ‘I still haven’t worked out how he hasn’t been snapped up,’ she continued dreamily. ‘His divorce was ages ago.’

‘Hmm, maybe once bitten twice shy.’ Rachel knew that feeling well. ‘Anyway, I don’t know why you’re gushing on – you’re already taken. And, he’s at least ten years older than us pair.’ The two girlfriends had been a year apart at school, Eve being the older, but they had always lived nearby and been good friends, sharing the ups and downs of their teenage years. They were now the grand old age of twenty-four and twenty-five respectively – though after ten days of lambing and hardly any sleep Rachel felt about sixty-four.

‘Eight years older than me, actually. He’s thirty-three.’

‘Is he now, and how do you know that?’

‘It was his birthday a few weeks ago. He happened to mention it to Ben down in the pub.’