Page 72 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘So, what’s next for the club night? Something for New Year? Diet puddings?’ Dan’s crinkled cheeks showed that he was jesting.

‘There’s no such thing,’ countered Jill. ‘And if there is, they should be banned. Puddings are there for a treat. A little of what you fancy …’

‘Never did anyone any harm,’ Daniel finished her line, his grey eyes smiling warmly.

‘Here, here,’ said Eve.

Rachel looked across at her mum and Daniel sitting cosily side by side and suddenly felt like the third wheel. This was so hard. She could barely watch them together. Throughout the evening she had tried to avoid speaking with Daniel directly. She didn’t want to be rude, but knew it was the best way to keep her emotions in check.

The group began to disperse, laden with takeaway Christmas Puddings and other delights – Charlotte’s easy bakes, courtesy of the Pudding Pantry, proving popular – along with their cheesecake recipe sheets. They all wished Rachel and her family a Merry Christmas, sending special wishes on to Granny Ruth for a speedy recovery.

Daniel was again the last to leave. He came across to have a few words with Jill and offered to help out at the Pantry in the coming days, should she and Rachel need an extra pair of hands, saying that he had a couple of days off coming up before Christmas.

‘I’m sure we’ll be fine,’ Rachel answered rather coolly, just as Jill replied, ‘Oh, that’s very kind.’ Her mum gave Rachel a look, as if to say she needed to buck up.

Rachel busied herself with the clearing up, yet found herself on high alert, sneaking the odd glance at the pair of them. Jill, too, looked a little uncomfortable.

Where was this going? Was it just friendship as Mum had mooted, or were the pair of them already feeling a little more than that? It was just so disconcerting that Daniel was keen to spend more and more time with her mum. Rachel knew, on a wholly selfish level, that her ill-feeling was to do with Dad. But how could Jill forget about him?

After helping to clear some coffee cups, Daniel thanked them for tonight, saying he was really enjoying the group and was picking up some great baking tips. He didn’t seem such a bad guy, in all honesty … Rachel gave a small sigh. She should be pleased that Mum was finding a new friend, but she couldn’t help but feel odd. It was as though it marked the start of something new for Jill, a moving on. It highlighted the ever-crushing reality that Dad was never, ever coming back.

She stepped out of the barn, into the cold dark night, looking up at the stars through teary eyes. Was Dad there, looking down at her? She liked to think so; it was the only comfort in these changing, uneasy times.

34

The next evening, Rachel was settling Maisy into bed after bath and story time. With Christmas fast approaching, her daughter was taking longer to go off to sleep, asking a million and one questions about the real Father Christmas.

‘How does he do the whole world in one night?’ Maisy enquired, with eyes wide.

‘Magic powers,’ was Rachel’s answer to that one.

Rachel wished she’d had some of those magic powers herself this week with all the multitasking needed to get everything done on the farm. Her own Christmas preparations were all too feeble at the moment, too and she still had to finalise a couple of gifts for Maisy – Amazon would be getting a browse and an order hit this evening, for sure.

‘Is my daddy coming to see me for Christmas?’ Maisy was sitting up, propped against the pillows.

‘Oh …’ Jake had made no mention of intending to visit any time soon in his recent phone calls. To be honest, her ex arriving for Christmas lunch would be the last thing Rachel would want, but of course Maisy would be hoping to see him. It was a special time of year, a family time, and he was her daddy, after all. ‘I don’t think so, Maisy.’

Her little girl’s face dropped.

‘He’s got lots of things to do where he lives now, and it’s a very long way away.’ Rachel tried to ease the feelings of rejection that might well be hitting Maisy right now.

The reality was that Jake would probably be spending Christmas with the new girlfriend, Chelsea, and her little boy who was just two years older than Maisy. Ironic really, Jake didn’t have time for his own child but he’d no doubt be playing happy families with little Kelvin, or whatever he was called. She kept all that to herself, of course.

‘I’m sure he’ll come and see you again when he can. Now then, it’s time to get to sleep, petal. Shall I read you a little bit more of your storybook, just a page or two?’ That might take Maisy’s mind off her missing Daddy and into a place where sleep might come more easily.

Maisy was nodding.

‘Great. Now, where were we?’ They were soon lost in adventures of fairies and dragons and princesses. Unfortunately, Rachel’s eyelids were beginning to droop before Maisy’s, her nonstop days catching up on her.

‘Night, then, lovely – Mummy’s going to have to go and bake some more puddings for the Pantry.’ There was no letting up quite yet. There was still another load of Whisky and Orange Christmas puds to create for orders that were to be collected tomorrow. Granny Ruth had really started something, she thought wryly. Thankfully, Granny’s cough had eased a lot over the past few days, and the old lady seemed as though she was back on track to enjoy all the Christmas festivities with the family. So, some Christmas wishes did come true after all.

With eight Christmas puddings steaming gently away on the top of the stove, Rachel had a rare couple of hours to spare. She could look at the mounting pile of paperwork, or she could go and see Tom. The latter option was by far the most appealing, though it filled her with some trepidation too.

With all the issues at the Pantry and the crazy-busy Christmas run up, Rachel had still only seen him briefly, just glimpses when they were with other people, or a quick hello as they passed on the road. He had called in once or twice for his elevenses, but it was hardly the place for a heart-to-heart in the middle of the Pantry, or for her to ask the burning question about Caitlin’s mystery reappearance.

So she thought she’d go and surprise him; hopefully they could clear the air, have a deep and honest conversation. And she could only hope that Tom wasn’t about to drop any bombs on her. Anxiety churned in her stomach.

She knew that she should nip up to Jill’s room and let her know of her plans to pop round to Tom’s. She made to go up the stairs, before swivelling quickly back. She just couldn’t quite face her yet – residual anger about her mum’s sneaking around with Dan still swilling around in her mind. No, she’d just slip out. Maisy was sleeping soundly and she wouldn’t be long anyhow. She did however leave a note on the kitchen side.