Page 31 of Summer at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

What about those long, tender nights when they had lain together? The excitement at their engagement. Dancing with Maisy in the kitchen as they shared the news. Did it all suddenly mean nothing? Didn’t he remember how they had held each other so tightly after that scary night of the snowstorm in the winter, how in spring they had shared midnight sticky toffee pudding in the lambing shed after saving that ewe and her new-born lamb, how life could be so beautiful? All those shared memories …

Somewhere out in the dark an owl hooted, a lonely sound, followed by the rustling of leaves blown on a blustery summer breeze on the old apple tree beneath her window. Rachel got up and wandered across to draw open the curtains, looking out over moonlit fields towards his farm. No lights were on there. Was Tom lying there thinking of her too? She hoped so.

The physical distance between them didn’t help. If she could just reach across the bed to talk to him, maybe that would help, just like they would be able to do when they were a married couple – if that ever came to reality … What had happened to Tom to shake him so badly? Too many questions lay unanswered, taunting her tired mind.

Somehow, they had lost their way, and she needed to find a path back to him.

15

With all the recent stresses and strains, Rachel was in need of a wise and friendly ear and she knew just where to go.

They’d had a busy lunch session at the Pudding Pantry. Rachel and Jill were now a well-oiled team as they worked, Jill doing most of the prepping and plating up, Rachel serving and clearing. The white chocolate raspberry cheesecake Rachel had made that morning was proving particularly popular, along with Jill’s lemon meringue pie. Business was growing steadily after the blips and bumps of starting out last year, and their name and good reputation was becoming known among the locals and tourists alike. Whilst life was looking stormy in one respect, at least the business was in fairly good health.

‘Oh, I promised I’d pop some more eggs over to Granny’s today,’ Jill said to Rachel once all the customers were served. ‘She called earlier; she’s been doing some extra baking for the village coffee morning and has run out.’

‘No worries, I’ll go.’ Rachel leapt at the chance. ‘I feel like I haven’t caught up with Granny for a while.’

‘Okay then, love. I’m sure I’ll manage fine here for a while.’

‘It’s after-school club for Maisy, so I’ll collect her on the way back.’ It was nearly three p.m., but with an hour in hand, that’d give Rachel time to ‘bide a wee while’ with Granny and have a much-needed chat.

‘Of course. Send Ruth my love and tell her I’ll pop in to see her in the next day or two.’

‘Will do, see you soon, Mum.’

Granny Ruth’s cottage was bright and cheery; adorned as it was with tall, pastel-shaded hollyhocks, pretty pink roses that arched around the front door, and old-fashioned snapdragons that sprang up in the borders and peeped out of the cracks in the low stone wall that bordered the lane.

Rachel parked up, feeling her heart lift a little already. Whatever problems you had in this world, Granny Ruth had the knack of putting them into perspective. She was also highly likely to have something tantalising and just-baked out of the oven.

Rachel knocked, and headed right on in, calling out, ‘Hel-lo, it’s just me, Rachel.’

The aroma from the kitchen didn’t disappoint, and as Rachel poked her head around the door, she was welcomed by the sight and smell of warm, buttery baked scones.

‘Oh, hello pet.’ Ruth gave a smile as she rose a little stiffly, lifting the tray up to the kitchen side.

‘Ooh, they look good, Granny,’ Rachel said as she popped down the box of eggs.

‘Thank you, pet. Aye, well, if you’ve got a few minutes to spare, lass, we can let them cool a little and then have one each with some jam and cream, what do you think? I’ve just made my first batch of strawberry jam this last week. I do like a blob of strawberry preserve on a scone, I must say.’

‘With your own jam too, Granny? I think that sounds perfect.’

‘Cream-tea time it is, then. Let’s pop the kettle on, lass.’

Despite Granny Ruth busying herself around the kitchen, Rachel could see how stooped she had become over these past months, and her movements were strained. Also, she hadn’t managed to totally get rid of the cough that had troubled her all winter. It seemed to flare up every now and again, and left her rather breathless at times. She watched her grandmother hold on to the side for a second or two to steady herself.

‘Here, let me make the tea for us, Granny. You go on outside and have a seat on our favourite bench. It’s lovely and warm out there.’ Luckily the summer showers had dispersed today. ‘I’ll get sorted here and bring out a tray.’

Ruth looked at Rachel and nodded, accepting her granddaughter’s offer.

‘Aye, it has been a busy day so far. I’ve been down helping at the coffee morning for the old folks.’

Rachel couldn’t help but grin; Granny said ‘old folks’ as though she certainly wasn’t one of them, despite her eighty-one years.

The kettle soon came to the boil and Rachel set out a tray with china cups and saucers, a jug of cold milk and a pot of loose-leaf tea, just as Granny would have made it herself. She joined Ruth at the wooden bench, nestled at the back of the cottage, that overlooked the valley. Everything was so lush and green, vibrant in the early June sunshine. Rachel set the tray on the little wrought-iron table beside them.

‘Gorgeous day, isn’t it, lass? I’m so glad for my garden. So, how are you? Tell me all.’ Granny’s blue eyes crinkled into a warm smile.

‘Oh fine. Busy, as you can imagine, with the farm, the Pantry, the wedding …’ She edged cautiously to the root of her concerns. ‘All go, really.’