Page 34 of Summer at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘Wanna talk about it?’ She passed him a steaming mug.

‘No, not really.’ He sounded distant; wherever Tom was, it wasn’t in this kitchen with Rachel.

‘Oh … Tom,’ Rachel wanted to hold him, kiss him, bring him back to the present, but he seemed so damned bristly that she daren’t. ‘Is it to do with the farm?’

‘Yes, it’s to do with the bloody farm. If I have any sodding farm left at the end of it.’

‘Caitlin?’

He visibly flinched. ‘Who else …?’

Tom’s bitter ex was obviously rearing her head again. Despite a generous divorce settlement, she’d been out to get more from the farm since Christmas, claiming that she’d been handed a raw deal in the split. Tom suspected she was just out of cash, flashing it around too freely on fancy holidays and expensive meals out.

‘Oh,’ sighed Rachel. Caitlin was never good news.

She risked walking over to him. He’d already placed his mug absently on the side, so she wrapped her arms around him as she looked him in the eye. ‘I’m here for you, you know that. If I can help, tell me how, my love?’ But he felt stiff within her embrace, and his eyes had a coolness that she’d not seen before.

‘I’ve damn well given her enough already … more than enough. There’s no point raking over it, Rach.’ He sounded bitter, angry. It was no wonder he was frustrated, but it felt as though he was shutting Rachel out.

His earlier haunting words suddenly rang true, as he stood taut in her arms: ‘I can’t believe I’m even thinking of getting married.’

‘Tom, I wanted to ask …’ She faltered.

‘What is it?’

She tried to muster the courage to follow through and ask him about that conversation on the lane with Ben, but the words failed her.

‘It’s OK, it’s nothing.’

But she wouldn’t let Caitlin win, no way. Rachel wasn’t the same person; she was nothing like his ex. She was totally different – kinder than that, stronger than that. And … she loved Tom so much. It was hard seeing him hurting like this. Her arms reached around to stroke his back tenderly and she gazed up at him for a few seconds, hoping for some connection. He stayed close physically, but mentally he seemed distant. Maybe now was the ideal time to offer her olive branch and tell him she was prepared to move in there with Maisy, to give living there a go. That should cheer him, surely.

‘Tom, I’ve been thinking. About where we will live, after the wedding. You’re right, Primrose Farm will be crowded with Mum there … and with Daniel about at times. So, Maisy and I will be happy to come here and live with you.’ She smiled, even though her words felt strange on her lips, the reality hitting home that she would finally be leaving her beloved farm.

‘Hah, there might not even be a bloody farmhouse left by the time she’s finished with me. She’ll be after half of that too.’

‘Tom …’ Rachel swallowed hard, feeling hurt. She’d thought he’d be pleased that she’d come around to his way of thinking, that she wanted to be there with him, and would make that move with Maisy too, but he still seemed irked about friggin’ Caitlin. Crikey, there was nopoint discussing where they were going to live now, not with him in this mood, and she didn’t dare mention about Jake coming to the bloody wedding – that’d fire Tom right up again for sure. And the chance of some steamy making-up romance in the bedroom seemed to be absolutely nil.

‘Well, I thought you might be a bit more pleased about us moving in. I’m trying here, Tom, but you’ve got to give me something back.’ Rachel slammed half a cup of coffee down her throat, annoyingly scalding herself, and then turned on her heels and marched out, launching the words, ‘Let me know when the bear with the sore head is out of its cave!’ as she slammed the door.

17

‘Good morning to you, Rachel. And how’s our lovely bride-to-be today?’ Frank doffed his tweed cap as he entered the Pudding Pantry.

‘I’m fine thanks, Frank.’ There was no point being down in the dumps – not in front of the customers anyhow. And Rachel hadn’t even told her mum about yesterday evening’s scenario at Tom’s. Jill was having a baking morning over at the farmhouse to keep up the supplies, so Rachel was solo just now. She busied herself making Frank his coffee, just as he liked it, with warm milk and one heaped spoonful of sugar.

‘Well, the weeks are surely skipping by. It won’t be long at all until the big day,’ Frank continued chirpily. ‘I’m very much looking forward to it, I must say. I’ll have to get my best suit out and dusted off.’

‘Hmm, yeah.’ Rachel swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. After yesterday’s antics, who knew what might happen? Her head had been spinning all night, trying to make some sense of it. Was Tom so fed up that he might really just jack it all in? Give up on their relationship because of the shitty first one he’d had?

‘Can I tempt you with any of our baking this morning, Frank?’ Rachel needed to focus on something else.

‘Go on then, try me. What’s on the specials today?’

‘Well, we have some just-baked honey cake.’ (Jill had been up early baking this morning.) ‘There’s also a ginger pudding, chocolate melt-in-the-middle puddings, some strawberry shortcake …’ The local strawberries were in season, plump and juicy. ‘Our usual selection of scones and teacakes. Oh, and there’s an almond and raspberry flan.’

‘Spoilt for choice as always … ooh, I think I’ll go with the ginger pudding. That’ll take me back. My mother used to make a delightful one, and I’m sure yours will be just as good.’

The cakes and bakes were always freshly made at Primrose Farm in the farmhouse kitchen Aga, and there was usually a ‘special’ or two on the menu at the Pudding Pantry, to make the most of seasonal ingredients and to keep the selection interesting. Jill loved trialling new puddings, often scrolling through the pages of the family’s Baking Bible, or taking a look at Mary Berry’s or Delia’s recipes for inspiration. Rachel enjoyed baking too when she got the chance; it made a refreshing change from her farm work. Carrot cake and cheesecakes were her speciality, and she’d made the melt-in-the-middle puds.