Page 43 of Summer at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

Jake’s footsteps made their way up the stairs, and Rachel poked her head out of Maisy’s room. She left them to it for ten minutes, hearing his lilting tones telling the tale, and Maisy with her many questions as the story unfolded. Rachel got herself freshened up for Tom’s, with a slick of pale pink lipstick and some mascara. She sent another text to say she shouldn’t be long now. Oh my, she was still feeling full. She hoped to goodness he hadn’t made a big dinner.

She gave Maisy a goodnight kiss and tucked her in.

‘I’m so looking forward to the beach tomorrow, Mummy.’

‘Yeah, it should be good. Night, petal.’

‘Night, Mummy. Night, Daddy.’ And she smiled sleepily, as though she’d been longing to say those words together for a long, long time, before nestling down into her pillows.

‘She’s a good kid,’ Jake said as they closed her bedroom door.

‘Yeah, she is.’ Rachel felt a little glow of pride.

When they reached the kitchen, Jake thanked them both for a lovely evening and then excused himself, saying it was time he headed back to his B & B. ‘Well,’ he confessed, ‘perhaps via a quick pint at the Black Bull.’ He gave a wink.

Rachel went to see him out at the doorstep. It was ten to eight by then and she was aware of the time ticking away.

‘Night, Jake.’

‘See ya, Rach.’ He faced her with a grin. ‘We’ll have a good day tomorrow.’

And suddenly it reminded her of years gone by, when they were both so young. Jake with his killer smile, always a bit of a charmer, a jack-the-lad. But hey, she well knew where that had got her. And though she would never for the world wish that she hadn’t had Maisy, she also knew how hard life had been as a young single parent, even with her mum and dad’s support. He might be trying harder this time with Maisy, but Jake still had a million miles to go.

21

EVE

Eve felt a frisson of anticipation as she slicked some red gloss over her lips.

She had perhaps neglected herself somewhat of late, she realised, as she looked at the shinier person staring back at her from the bedroom mirror – throwing on a pair of black leggings and some kind of Breton or floral top as a matter of course each morning (sometimes even the very same top as the day before). Other than a quick brush of her curly brown hair, which often had a life of its own, and a morning swipe of mascara, her make-up routine was pretty nonexistent. Except for the last two craft fair events, she confessed to herself, where rather a lot of personal care and attention had come into play.

She slipped a dress on – a vintage-style tea dress, with a delicate red rose pattern. A dress she usually kept for going out … but she and Ben hadn’t been out for such a long time, the frock had hung neglected in the wardrobe.

Yes, it was about time she made the effort for her husband. It was no wonder she felt rather invisible to him at home, she was somewhat invisible even to herself. The cook, the cleaner, the carer, the mum … where had the glamorous, carefree young Eve gone?

A sudden memory flashed up, of her and Ben dancing in the kitchen. Oh my, it’d be several years ago now, Amelia just a baby tucked up in her cot upstairs. And a song, their song – Ed Sheeran’s ‘Thinking Out Loud’ – coming on to the radio. They were halfway down a bottle of wine, and he’d taken her hand and they’d swayed gently together. A spontaneous joyful moment to treasure. Could they ever get those moments back? Make new ones?

She hoped this evening would be one step in the right direction. She glanced at her wristwatch; five twenty. Ben should be home in about fifteen minutes. He usually got away by five thirty, when the garage closed, and it was only a short drive home.

She suddenly felt excited. They could turn things around. She still thought the world of Ben really, but they had become more like buddies – admittedly slightly grumpy buddies of late – than lovers.

She ventured down the stairs. Supper was already warming in the oven. Lasagne, one of his favourites.

‘Oh, Mummy, you look nice.’ Amelia, who was playing with her dolls in the living room, looked up and gave her a big smile.

‘Aw, thank you so much, sweetie.’ It was lovely for Amelia to notice but, gosh, did she really look so different to usual? She supposed that confirmed how much she’d let things slip.

Eve headed for the kitchen, thinking that they might eat al fresco in the garden for a change. The wind was low and it was still warm out there as she stood on the back step gauging the weather. Yes, they might even have a glass of wine as a treat and just chill together outside looking over the valley, after Amelia went to bed. She’d picked up a bottle of rosé and a couple of beers at the Co-op shop this afternoon, and had pointedly tidied all her craft-making stuff away for the night.

The sound of an engine slowing to a halt brought her back to the here and now.

‘Daddy’s here!’ called Amelia excitedly, and Eve’s heart did a little flip. She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened for Ben.

‘Hi, Daddy.’ Amelia was there at the front door in a rush. Eve lingered behind her in the hallway, feeling strangely shy.

‘Hi, guys.’ He picked up Amelia for a hug, and moved to file past Eve, brushing the briefest of kisses on her perfumed cheek. ‘Ah, what a day. Never stopped, I’m knackered. We had a breakdown in on top of the services we already had booked. Then, just at the last moment, some old guy rolled in with a puncture; well, we couldn’t let him down, but really, at five to five on a Friday …’

He strode past Eve and headed to the kitchen to fill a glass of water.