Page 85 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘I’ll be okay, Mum, you stay here with Maisy, and Tom’s still resting upstairs. I’ll just crack on,’ she answered stoic-ally. ‘There’s bound to be a few weak sheep out there after that storm. They’ll be needing extra feed and nutrients.’

Rachel wrapped up warm and headed to the store in the lambing shed, filling the back of the Land Rover with sacks of feed and some mineral blocks, Moss keeping her company. It was heavy work, and her arms were still aching from digging out the drifts yesterday, but she put her back in to it and carried on.

She made a little pen up in the shed for Petie, as already the porch was getting messy with sheep poo, much to Maisy’s amusement! If she could manage to get the tractor out later, Rachel mused, she’d get some more silage and hay out to the fields on both farms too. She wanted to check the lay of the land and the driving conditions first though.

This was the harsh side of farming, when the winter weather could be so cruel, and the risk to life and your livelihood very real. And yet, up on the hills just ten minutes later, emptying sacks of feed into the wooden troughs for the hungry sheep, with the snow clouds now gone and a glow of morning sun forming a silvery-blue light over the white-snowclad landscape, this place could still take Rachel’s breath away.

The next day, with the roads cleared, and the snow on the fields melting to slush, the Pudding Pantry was getting busy once more. Word about Granny Ruth’s famous Christmas Puddings and the new Pudding Club at their quaint country tea rooms was spreading like hot cakes. With only a few days left until Christmas Day, the Pantry was a hive of activity, with orders coming in thick and fast, customers queuing for tables discussing the terrible snowstorm, with puddings galore being eaten amid excited chatter about the Christmas break. Being stuck in the farmhouse for a couple of days with the bad weather meant Jill had caught up with more baking and stocks were holding up well for now, though there’d be more late nights and early mornings at the Aga yet, to keep up with demand.

Tom was now back on his feet, if a little tired, and very much back to work.

He and Rachel finally caught up with each other over a cup of coffee at Tom’s farmhouse, when Rachel called in on her way back from delivering puddings to the Kirkton Deli.

‘Hey, you okay? You look shattered.’ It was Tom’s turn to be concerned. He could see just how exhausted Rachel was. He stepped closer, and moved a strand of hair that had fallen across her eye. ‘I’m sorry, I know I added to your workload, being out of action for the last day or so. Just when there was so much more to do on the farms. Thanks for all your help with that.’

‘No worries, it was just what I had to do. You’d have done the same for me if the boot was on the other foot, I’m sure.’

He nodded. ‘Can I help now? Is there anything I can do?’

‘Well, most of it’s pudding mayhem, and I’m not sure if that’s your forte,’ she smiled.

‘True.’

‘Yeah, the Pantry has gone a bit crazy. You’d think there was going to be food rationing or something after Christmas.’

‘Well, I can certainly help with your farm work, give you a bit of breathing space.’

‘Aw, I appreciate that.’

‘I bet you’ll still be soldiering on though, wearing yourself out.’ He was getting to know her foibles. She wasn’t one to accept help easily, her sense of pride and determination being so strong. ‘You know, you need to slow down, Rachel.’

‘But there’s so much to do right now. I can’t just stop. It’s never-ending.’

‘Okay, I realise that for the next few days you’ve just got to knuckle down, get Christmas out of the way. But then maybe you need to look at how you organise it all, try doing things another way? Think about it, do you really need to open the Pudding Pantry every single day? You’re piling so much pressure on yourselves.’

Rachel knew he was right. Was she strong enough to keep carrying such a heavy load? Could there be a different way?

‘Slow down, my love,’ Tom continued, his voice gentle. ‘Not for me, but for yourself. These past two years have been so tough for you. You still need time to heal, to find a way forward.’

Their eyes fixed with a depth of shared understanding. He had been there too. He had seen what had happened back then. That day when her father had chosen to end his life. Life had felt like a battle ever since, but maybe she didn’t have to struggle on alone.

Rachel nodded. It was time to think about how to move forward.

‘Rachel, about Caitlin …’ Tom suddenly looked deadly serious.

Rachel swallowed slowly. So, this was it. Did she really want to know the truth? Might this be the end for them? She stayed silent, afraid that if she spoke the emotions would crack in her voice.

‘Okay, so yes,’ he continued, ‘it’s my ex, Caitlin, who’s been calling.’

Rachel felt her heart contract. It was suddenly hard to breathe.

Tom took a sip of coffee, before continuing, ‘She has been here, you were right. She’s out to get more of the farm, claiming it wasn’t a fair split, that she’s had a raw deal. She’s got a new solicitor in on the case and everything.’ He rubbed his forehead, agitatedly.

‘Oh, Tom!’ And there Rachel had been imagining there might be some romantic element behind this; she felt so stupid now. But oh God, the implications for Tom and his farm … Rachel knew all too well the dread of losing your home, your land, your livelihood, the place that was so precious to you and your family.

‘She hated the bloody farm here and farm life, that’s the shit thing,’ Tom continued. ‘I gave her money for half the house and a decent payout. It was all agreed and finalised, supposedly, in the divorce settlement.’

‘So, why’s she coming back on the scene now?’