Page 43 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

She turned at the entrance to Tom’s farm, her heart racing a little, and was soon pulling up beside his house. The farmhouse was all in darkness; he must have gone to bed. She felt a little uneasy about her plan now. Would he think her late-night appearance odd, or might he be grumpy at being woken up? This little act was so out of character for her … Oh well, she was here now, and there was only one way to find out.

The door was locked when she tried the handle, so she knocked, gently at first. But still there was no sound from upstairs, and no lights going on, not even Mabel barking from her kitchen bed, which was odd. Hah, she’d have to revert to throwing stones at his window – how very Romeo and Juliet. She knew which was his bedroom from the rare, wonderful nights she’d spent there.

‘Tom, Tom,’ she called from beneath his room. Nothing. She aimed a small pebble, launching it but not too hard, hoping to goodness she didn’t actually break the glass. Perfect. A direct hit; she’d always been a pretty good shot. Still no movement. Honestly, that man must be sleeping like a log.

Was he actually in there? She felt a slight tightening in her stomach, a weird thought entering her brain. Could he be sleeping somewhere else? But no, not her Tom, there had never been any mention of another woman since his wife left him. His wife …? She poo-pooed the thought immediately. They’d been separated for ages. She was just being silly. ‘Tom!’ she shouted louder now, and launched one more pebble.

Come to think of it, where was his pickup? It was usually parked outside.

Well, there was no use freezing her butt off out here. The night air was chilly and Rachel suddenly felt very lonely. She waited another minute. No lights, no sounds. Tom didn’t seem to be in, or if he was, he wasn’t interested in answering. Her excitement deflated like a popped balloon. Where was he at this time of night? Her fears and uncertainties began to grow and rear their ugly heads. Loving someone left you oh so vulnerable. She decided it was time to go home. Back to her cold, lonely bed.

19

It was Saturday, and Jake’s big arrival at Primrose Farm was imminent. As the minutes on the Pantry clock passed tick by tick, Rachel could feel a knot of tension balling up within her. It didn’t help that she hadn’t yet had chance to quiz Tom as to his whereabouts the other night. In some ways, she was terrified to find out the truth. Was the matter best left alone? Anyhow, there were other pressing concerns right now.

Maisy was all excited, skipping about the barn and then looking in and out of the big doors, just in case. She had insisted on wearing her best dress for the occasion. Apparently, they were going out to the cinema in Berwick-upon-Tweed, and then having some fish and chips somewhere along the coast.

Would he get here on time? Was he still bringing his parents with him? Rachel mused. Jake had said about eleven o’clock, but Jake being Jake … A whirl of questions and worries spun in Rachel’s head. She was glad when Frank came in to take her mind off things.

‘Morning, Frank.’

‘Hello, Rachel. And how are you today?’

‘Oh, fine, fine,’ she lied, keeping a brave face on it.

‘Hello, Frank. My daddy’s coming to see me today.’ Maisy waltzed confidently over to him.

‘Well, that’s a good thing. And I must say, you are looking very pretty in that frock, young lady.’

‘Thank you.’ She gave a little curtsey.

Soon afterwards, a navy saloon car pulled up outside – no grey van this time. Out stepped Jake and … what? From the other side of the car came a rather petite and glamorous-looking young woman. It was hard to tell her age. She had full makeup on and her blonde hair was swept back in a chic ponytail.

‘Hi, Rachel.’ Jake was smoothing back his dark blonde hair and stretching out his legs a bit. ‘That’s some journey.’

Rachel found herself still staring at the woman. Who on earth was this, and why was she here? Did this week have any more surprises to throw her way?

‘Hi, I’m Chelsea.’ She took a step forward, and gave a cool smile. ‘Oh, and this must be Maisy. Hello, poppet.’

Maisy ran up to them and then stopped, suddenly unsure of herself and how she should be with them. ‘Hi Daddy, hello …’

‘Chelsea,’ the woman repeated her name. ‘I’m Daddy’s friend.’

Daddy’s friend … as in girlfriend? The penny was dropping. And he hadn’t thought to say! Rachel began to fume. But the ‘we’ on the phone, ah yes. Was that all he thought they needed to know? This was a huge leap for Maisy – yet someone else for her little girl to get to know, who’d probably disappear from Jake’s life in a nanosecond, never to be seen again. And how would this woman be with Maisy? What if she was unkind, or mean? Had she even had any experience with children?

Maisy quite rightly seemed a little hesitant, hanging back next to Rachel for a second.

Then Jake opened out his arms to her. ‘Come here then, give your dad a hug.’

And there she was in his arms, with Chelsea smiling on, playing at happy families already.

‘Oh, she’s a little sweetie, Jake. Look, she has your eyes too.’

Did she? Rachel was getting riled. She had always thought Maisy looked far more like her, except for the blonde hair. She’d credit Jake with that, but her eyes … really? They were green, like Rachel’s, Jake’s were blue-grey.

With that, a clucking of free-range chickens moved in around Chelsea’s feet. They seemed fascinated by the sparkly jewels on her bright white – oh yes white – trainers. They began merrily pecking at the glittering glass gems on them.

She squealed in panic. ‘Get those things off me!’ and jumped back, but her feathered friends were in hot pursuit. ‘What are they even doing here?’