Page 93 of Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

Chapter 37

WISE WORDS AND LEMON MERINGUE PIE

‘I’ll take the eggs across to Grandma today, Mum,’ offered Rachel.

So much for taking her mind off Tom. Yes, they’d been damned busy getting a zillion puddings made in time for the Kirkton Country Show, but that man was still very much lodged in her head. Seeing Granny Ruth would make for a good change of scene. And it was a chance for them to have a well-needed catch-up, one on one – Maisy wanted to stay with her Grandma Jill as they were making some brownies together, so Rachel would head across alone.

‘Okay, thanks, that’ll be great. Send her my love, and see if she wants to come across for supper one evening. Maybe next Tuesday, after the show’s all done?’

‘Will do.’

Off she set, arriving ten minutes later outside Ruth’s countryside cottage. She found her granny out in the front garden with a pair of secateurs to hand, dead-heading her roses.

‘Oh, hello there, our lassie. How are you?’

‘I’m fine thanks, Granny, and how are you?’

‘Well, the old knees have been giving me gyp – been trying to get those pesky weeds out of the borders earlier on, it was a battle to get myself back up again, but other than that I’m grand.’

‘Good, that’s what I like to hear.’

‘Well, I think this calls for a cup of tea. I could do with a little break. Let’s go out the back and have a seat, hey?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Oh, and I made a lemon meringue pie yesterday, maybe we’ll have a slice of that too.’

‘Perfect.’ Ruth’s lemon meringue pies were a delight; all crispy short pastry with a layer of homemade citrus-sharp lemon curd, topped with softly baked meringue.

‘I had a feeling it’d come in handy when I baked it yesterday. You never know when someone might decide to call.’

The door was always open at Granny Ruth’s, so visitors were a frequent possibility. She had lots of friends in the village.

Settled on Ruth’s wrought-iron bench in her small but pretty back garden, looking out over green-and-gold country fields, Granny suddenly looked serious. ‘So Rachel lass, what’s been troubling you this past week or so?’

Oh dear, maybe Mum had mentioned that she was acting a bit out of sorts. She really didn’t want to tell Granny Ruth the truth. It was too raw; it was an emotional mess involving her son, who’d died. They were all just beginning to find a way forward.

‘Oh, it’s nothing Granny …’ she batted away the question.

‘Rachel pet, I know nothing when I see it and this is not nothing. Do you think I’m stupid? And do you think not talking about your woes will help anybody?’

This was way too close to home. ‘Granny, I just don’t want to upset anyone.’

‘Look pet, the worst has already happened. I might be an old goat, but I want to look after the family that I have left, and if something’s troubling you lass, I’d like to help. Even if it means just talking it through. Try me, I’ve lived a full life. There’s not a lot that can shock or surprise me now.’

Rachel chewed a fingernail anxiously. Despite Ruth’s assurances, she was still terrified that this revelation could hurt her lovely granny.

‘Come on, lass,’ Ruth tried to tease it out of her. ‘Not talking didn’t help your dad now, did it?’

That was it, Rachel broke into sobs. Ruth had enveloped her in a hug within a second.

‘Tell me, pet.’

‘Oh Granny, that’s just it, Dad did try to talk … to Tom,’ Rachel managed to get it out. ‘Tom told me he saw Dad the night before … the night before … he killed himself. Dad spoke with him. He knew he was upset.’

‘Well, what did Tom say happened?’ Ruth sounded calm.

‘Ah, just that Dad stopped and talked to him, admitting the farm was under pressure. Tom said that he seemed a bit down but that Dad didn’t want to “elaborate”. Yes, that was the word. Granny, to think he might have been able to help him … to stop him.’

‘Oh, Rachel lass, haven’t we all been thinking that these past two years? Looking back on conversations and gestures, trying to see the signs, and how we might have changed things. But your dad was a deep soul, even as a little boy. Would Tom have known there was more to it? I don’t think so. Your dad would have kept it all very close to his chest, even if he did admit things on the farm weren’t so great. That dark place he was in was very private, very deep and closely guarded. It’s not your fault nor Tom’s, nor your mum’s, nor mine. It was an illness.’

Rachel let out a long, slow sigh, words eluding her just now.

‘Now then, your mum tells me there’s been a bit of courting going on with you and young Tom?’

‘There’s no secrets around here, is there, Granny.’ Rachel managed a wry smile. ‘Well, we were getting friendlier, but it feels so different now, knowing this …’

‘He’s a good man, Rachel. He’s kind and he cares for you, anyone can see that. Don’t let this sour it all. Think about it, pet. Is it really Tom who’s hurt you in all this, or is it more the feelings that have been stoked – the harsh realisation that none of us could have done anything about it?’

‘I don’t know, Granny. I really don’t know.’ Rachel spooned some soft meringue into her mouth. She really needed comfort food right now.

‘Well, if it’s love, Rachel, don’t you let it go to waste, lass. That’s the last thing your dad would have wished for. He just wanted you to be happy.’