Page 2 of Summer at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘We’d manage somehow, you know love …’ Jill’s voice trailed off, as if she was a little disappointed too.

‘No, it wouldn’t feel right – even if it looked right – if I blew the budget already. I’m sure I can find something else that’ll do just fine.’

How Jill wished she had some secret savings stash she could dig into right now – she’d so love to make her daughter’s day. Maybe there was a way she still could?

Whilst Rachel nipped to the bathroom, Jill sketched what she could remember of the dress on a white paper napkin, while it was fresh in her mind: the simple yet flattering bodice with its V front and back, the fine tulle of the skirt with its gorgeous appliqué flower design. She then popped the drawing into her handbag. Well, you never knew …

2

TWO MONTHS LATER

‘Have you remembered to put the hiking boots in, Mum?’

‘Yes, both our pairs are in.’ Jill was trailing a couple of all-weather anoraks to the Land Rover. Well, you had to be prepared for all eventualities in Scotland, rain or shine, even in May and at the supposed start of summer.

‘Prosecco?’

‘Yep, got the essentials packed, of course. The box of six is in the boot.’

‘Perfect … and I’ve got the sticky toffee puddings and the Tupperware box of meringues from Granny Ruth right here.’ Rachel perused the back of the truck. Cases in, yep, the cool bag of provisions, yes … hmm. Rachel had a mental check list but she was sure she was going to forget something. She knew she should have written it all down last night, but she’d been far too busy getting everything ready for Maisy’s next two days at school and for staying over at Amelia’s. She’d also been flat out organising everything on the farm ready to hand over to their farmhand, Simon, and Tom – her lovely, gorgeous Tom – who were taking the reins whilst she was away for her hen do. A hen do, she could barely believe it.

It felt weird packing up the truck, ready to pick up her best friend and maid of honour, Eve. It was going to be a weekend to remember, Eve had boasted, though she still hadn’t spilled on all the details. Rachel was so excited but there were a few nervous butterflies in her stomach too; as a single parent she hadn’t had a night away since Maisy had been born five years ago, and with her father’s tragic death nearly three years past, and the devastation they had endured in the aftermath, the family hadn’t been in the frame of mind to take a holiday.

Dad … memories of packing for holidays in years gone by suddenly flooded over her. Long weekends piled into a static caravan near Scarborough on the Yorkshire Coast, fish and chips sitting on the harbour at Whitby, with donkey rides on the golden sands at Filey Bay. Dad’s strong hand holding her own as they splashed up to their knees in icy-cold waves that took their breath away, laughing even as they shivered. God, she missed him. Her thoughts turned to her own little girl, Maisy, who had given her an extra big hug at the minibus pick-up that morning before school. Rachel had been left with a solid lump in her throat as she watched the bus pull away, with Maisy waving animatedly out of the window. It felt so strange to be leaving her child behind, even though she was looking forward to these few days of fun and freedom. She’d left a check list for Amelia’s dad, Ben, on top of the small overnight case she’d packed with her daughter’s favourite outfits, pyjamas and wash bag, and her comforting soft toy sheep. Maisy would be fine, she told herself.

A couple of friends, Kirsty and Hannah, were going to make their own way to the accommodation in Oban and join them there later today, as they had younger children and were sorting out timings with grandparents and dads who were working. Close friend and bridesmaid, Charlotte, was taking a train up after work tomorrow; the best she could manage was an early finish from her Friday classroom shift at the primary school. Honestly, between her and Eve, it had needed military-style strategies to arrange this getaway.

‘Right then, Moss is in his kennel, isn’t he?’

Moss, their faithful Border collie, herder of sheep and tail-wagger extraordinaire, was going to be looked after by farmhand Simon, and then Granny Ruth when she came over to stay with Maisy for the Saturday night of the weekend shift.

‘Yep, and the Pudding Pantry is in safe hands with Jan and Daniel, so it’s time to go, love,’ rallied Jill.

With that, Dan appeared on the threshold of the Pantry ready to wave them off, calling out, ‘Have a wonderful time, ladies.’

Jill gave a small sigh and waved back, looking slightly emotional herself.

Oh gosh, they really were getting fond of each other, Rachel mused. It was still strange to think her mum had a new man on the scene, even if the romance was in its fledgling stages. It was lovely to see her mum with a spring in her step once again. But Rachel couldn’t deny it was still hard to balance that against her father’s absence. How could anybody possibly step into her father’s shoes? But, she conceded, it was so good of Dan to offer to help out at their beloved Pudding Pantry business, and for the next few days he’d certainly be a godsend. He wasn’t a bad baker himself, either, and was already getting a name for his cheese and chive triangle scones.

‘O-kay then.’ Rachel took up the driving seat of their old and slightly battered Land Rover. As she started the engine, she gave a silent prayer that it would make the four-hour journey across the border. She gazed up at the stone farmhouse as she pulled away, feeling a tug in her heartstrings. As they made their way down the farm track, the valley nestled around them, green and lush with fields of sheep happily grazing, she saw little Petie, Maisy’s now extremely big pet lamb, munching away. They passed their herd of cattle, Morag and Iona looking over the hawthorn hedge at the departing vehicle with seemingly sad, deep brown eyes. ‘Won’t be long, ladies,’ Rachel called out.

Three whole days away at a cosy wooden lodge near Oban – with her mum Jill, best friend Eve, and close mates Charlotte, Kirsty and Hannah by her side. The lodge had looked so lovely from the images on the internet, with log fires, old beams, all set in woodland beside a small lake. It even had an outside Jacuzzi with a view across the water: very chic.

Pulling up outside Eve’s cottage five minutes later, and seeing her friend come bounding out of the front door, Rachel found herself feeling an unfamiliar buzz of freedom.

‘Hi, Eve. Are you road-trip ready?’ She stuck her head out of the window and beeped the horn excitedly.

‘Just about, hun. I’ll go fetch my suitcase. Hi, Jill.’ She gave a merry wave.

Out she came a few minutes later with a large case – it was big enough for a fortnight, never mind three nights. Rachel hoisted it into the back of the Land Rover. ‘Blimey, how long do you think you are going for? What on earth have you got in there, the kitchen sink?’ she jested.

‘Hmm … just a few bits.’

‘Hah, are you intending to elope or something?’

A flush of colour blushed across Eve’s cheeks. ‘Don’t be so daft. It’s just a few clothes, and well, it could be all weathers. And … there’s a few extra things to make sure we have a really nice time. It’s your hen do, after all. Ooh, talking of which, there’s more still to bring from the kitchen …’ Off she dashed again, returning a couple of minutes later with yet another box of prosecco. ‘Essential hen-do supplies,’ she beamed. ‘Well, we are in the middle of nowhere. We can’t be running out of the bubbly stuff.’

‘Eve, we’re only staying a few miles from Oban. We’re not exactly going to the Outer Hebrides.’