Page 99 of Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘Where’s yours, Mummy?’

‘Oh yes, better find that one too.’ It didn’t really matter that much, thought Rachel, especially now that Jill had won the big prize.

There was a table of cakes displayed: a courgette cake, two carrot cakes, oh and look there, her carrot cake was standing with a very creditable blue second prize rosette beside it. Wow – not bad at all. Rachel peered closer at the other contenders. The first prize had been given to an amazing beetroot and chocolate cake, which she had to admit looked divine – no shame in coming second to that. And the third yellow rosette was sitting next to another carrot cake, by … Vanessa Palmer-Pilkington. Who would have thought it! Rachel couldn’t help but smile to herself.

‘Well done. Mummy. You’ve won a blue.’

‘Thanks, petal.’

It was then that Rachel heard a loud, plummy and unmistakeable voice behind her. ‘Well, I do think it’s been very poorly judged this year. I’ve never had a third in all the years I’ve entered.’

Rachel gave a quick glance over her shoulder to see an indignant Vanessa P-P moaning away to the poor woman she was with. Rachel caught Vanessa’s eye and gave a broad, friendly smile. No words needed to be said. The rictus smile that Vanessa gave in return was tight and forced. Touché.

They were just about to leave the tent when an all too familiar face appeared. Rachel froze. She hadn’t seen him since their chat in the lane, and here was Tom, just metres away from her.

‘Hey,’ he said, tentatively.

‘Hi.’ Well, this was awkward. Argh. He was smiling gently and the thing was … he looked so bloody gorgeous.

Luckily Maisy was there to break the second or two of silence that followed. ‘Tom, Mummy’s got a prize for her cake.’

‘Well, that’s good. Well done you.’ He gave Rachel a friendly nod.

‘And …’ Maisy was on a roll with the news, ‘Grandma won the puddings!’

‘Brilliant.’

‘The sticky toffee one,’ Maisy added.

‘Oh yes. Well, I could have told you she’d get a first prize for that. That’s my all-time favourite.’

He and Maisy grinned at each other. It was nice to see Maisy a bit happier now.

‘I’ve only just got here,’ Tom explained. ‘Just finished the other barley field. That’s the last of the arable done for now. Thought I’d nip down, see what’s going on at the show. I love this tent … The work that must go into getting the vegetables just right, they’re like works of art.’ He was filling the space between them with inane chat.

‘Ah, yes. There’s so much expertise gone into that,’ Rachel agreed. The conversation then stalled awkwardly. ‘Right, well we were just nipping away, got Ben and Amelia minding the stall for us. Better get back.’

‘Oh yes, of course … Has it gone okay today?’

‘Yeah, great thanks.’

‘That’s good. I hope everything goes well for you.’ His words seemed genuinely caring, but there was a new distance between them, a sense of detachment.

There was a heart-breaking pause. ‘We’d better go.’

‘It’s good to see you, Rach.’

‘Yeah, you too.’ Keep walking, keep going. Do not give in to silly poignant emotions, or romantic notions.