Page 19 of Summer at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘Oh, yeah, we had a fab time,’ Eve answered quickly, realising her husband was waiting for a response. ‘Yep, the lodge was amazing, a proper log cabin, set right by a lake.’

‘Oooh, it sounds pretty there, Mummy.’ Amelia was standing beside them in the hallway.

‘Yes, it was, really pretty. With woods to walk in and a lovely seaside town nearby.’ Eve felt a little nostalgic about it already.

‘That’s good. Glad it all worked out for you all. And … you deserved a bit of a break.’

‘We missed you, Mummy.’

‘Yeah, we did,’ Ben agreed, raising a warm smile, with a reassuring glimmer of his old self back. They’d seemed sadly distant of late. ‘Right, great. So, what’s for tea?’

Ah, back to normal then, thought Eve.

Echoes of Kirsty’s domestic complaints rattled through Eve’s mind, mocking her.

‘Oh …’ she hadn’t even thought. Mealtimes and cooking were usually her domain, but after her long journey and busy weekend, she had kind of hoped that Ben might have come up with something for her arrival supper himself.

‘Well, I have been cooking all weekend,’ he began.

That wasn’t strictly true, as she knew they’d been over to his parents for dinner last night, and she’d left that lasagne in the fridge. Warming up a frozen pizza and serving ice cream for the girls didn’t exactly take all evening or make him MasterChef material. But she bit her tongue; she’d had her wonderful, if slightly emotional, weekend away after all.

‘Right, well, I’ll have a look in the freezer, there’s bound to be something there,’ Eve mumbled, wracking her brain. There might be some breaded fish, oven chips, peas? So, there she was, straight back to it. Reality hitting home already.

And there they were, slipping back into tired roles, family life. Everything back to normal … or so it seemed. Tea time. Popping Amelia in the bath for some splash-filled fun and more chatter. Bedtime routine: a book and a hug, and a tender kiss on her strawberry-soap-smelling cheek. An evening for two in front of the television. Comfortable, uninspiring. Time to turn in themselves.

Once they were in bed, Eve turned to her husband to snuggle up. She knew she needed to make more of an effort herself. Things weren’t so bad at home; she just needed to try a bit harder, that was all. For all their sakes. They were a family.

She’d made her own wedding vows six years ago, till death do us part, and she had meant every word as she’d spoken them in the church that day. She and Ben could get back to how they used to be, surely. But as she leaned against him, brushing a hand over his chest, with fingertips that used to make his skin quiver under her touch, she realised his breathing had slowed. A snort of a snore emitted from his mouth.

She rolled away to the coolness of the other side of the bed, feeling the moisture of a tear brush her lashes, wondering how life – how they – had changed so much.

9

A shaft of warm sunlight fell on Rachel’s face. She got up to open the curtains on a glorious gold-flecked morning. The sky an azure blue with mere puffs of candyfloss cloud. Summer was here at last.

After a breakfast of toast spread thickly with Ruth’s bramble jelly, and having seen Maisy off on the school bus, Rachel headed across the sun-dappled farmyard to the Pudding Pantry, where she and Jill were back on duty. The May sunshine warmed the honeyed-stone walls, and danced off the white wooden tables where little posies of pink roses, plucked from their garden and mixed with sprigs of delicate white gypsophila, sat in mini milk bottles.

The coffee machine was gurgling. Elderly yet spritely Frank, one of their regulars, was seated at his favourite window table, overlooking the valley, with his newspaper propped up before him. ‘Nice to see you back, ladies.’ He gave them a smile.

‘Nice to be back, Frank,’ replied Rachel warmly, ‘though we did have a lovely time, I must say.’ Rachel was standing in the little kitchen area behind the counter, spooning creamy cheesecake mix on top of buttery biscuit crumbs for a summery lemon dessert. The zingy citrus smell was delightful.

‘Fabulous, it was, Frank. We had our own wooden lodge right by a lake,’ added Jill, as she lifted a batch of freshly baked scones out of the oven, ready to put out for cream teas – it most definitely was that time of the year. She’d already baked two halves of a Victoria sponge in the farmhouse Aga earlier this morning, ready to sandwich together with whipped cream and strawberries.

‘Sounds delightful. Oh, and has Tom had his stag do yet, then?’ enquired Frank. ‘You young ones seem to do all sorts of exciting things these days. Mine was a few drinks down at The Black Bull with my pals. In fact,’ he gave a chuckle, ‘I remember ending up a little worse for wear, and my mother being extremely cross with me when I finally staggered home. I do believe I might have been a tad poorly in one of the front garden flower beds.’

‘Hah, those were the days, Frank, hey,’ chipped in Jill.

‘Tom’s had his stag already,’ Rachel replied. ‘He and his friends went down to Newcastle for a night out. They’re big rugby fans so they tied it in with watching a match there at the Newcastle Falcons.’

‘Ah, right. I bet they had a good time.’

‘No doubt – though I didn’t ask for too many details,’ she laughed. ‘So, do you think we should freshen up the menus, Mum?’ added Rachel, changing tack. ‘Make sure we add some new summery puds?’

‘Oh yes, good idea, love. We’ll need something for the gluten-free range too. Oh, and let’s make a new selection for our mini pudding platters. What about a small rhubarb and vanilla pudding, with a slice of your lemon cheesecake and a bite-size strawberry meringue, and then something chocolatey, perhaps?’

‘A mini brownie, maybe?’

Frank, who’d been listening in, called out, ‘Yes, please. I’ll be your taste-tester if you like.’