Page 86 of Summer at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

With the finishing touches complete, garlands in place and bouquets to hand, it was time for the bridesmaids to go. Tom’s father had offered to drive them down to the church in two trips, as he had the smartest car among them: a lovely Mercedes saloon. He came into the farmhouse to wish Rachel well, saying that he was looking forward very much to welcoming her into their family. Aw, that gave her a lovely, fuzzy feeling. Off went Charlotte and Eve with happy smiles and waves. ‘Woo-hoo, see you at the church, hun!’

It felt weird a short while later, waving off the second contingent – Mum, Maisy and Amelia. All waving madly in the back seat, with the big ivory bow on the car bonnet flapping in the breeze as they set off down the farm track.

So, this was it … nearly time.

Tom should be there at the church by now. All the guests milling in, the pews filling up, and even more friends and acquaintances from the village who couldn’t fit in the church waiting outside – as was the local custom – to wave at the bride and gasp, gawp, and comment on her dress. Rachel had no doubt that they would love Eve’s creation. She felt so very special in it, and it meant all the more that it had been made lovingly by her best friend.

‘Are you all right then, Rachel, lass?’ Granny Ruth brought her back from her reverie.

‘Yes. A bit nervous maybe, more about tripping up or not saying my words right. I’m not nervous about Tom or us getting married. It just feels so right.’

‘Good, that’s how it should be, pet. And, he’s a fine young man, Rachel. I have no doubt you two will be happy together.’

‘Thank you, Granny.’

‘Oh, well this takes me right back to my wedding day … Yes, the village was pretty much out in force. Everyone loved a wedding – a chance for a feast and a good old knees-up afterwards.’

‘Well, some things don’t change,’ smiled Rachel.

With that, there was the sound of clip-clopping up the farm track. Rachel’s heart raced a little, realising that this was really it, her turn to go to the church.

There was a knock at the door and it was a local farming friend, David, one of her dad’s close pals. He popped his head around the door with a grin. ‘Well then, young lady, your carriage awaits.’

Rachel stood up. Granny gave her granddaughter’s hair and gown some last tweaks, though Rachel had no idea why, as the transport that awaited them would surely leave them both to the whim of the elements.

‘Well, this is really it. Any last words of wedding advice then, Granny?’

‘Now then, I’d say be a team, work together, and don’t take each other for granted. And don’t expect it all to be easy.’

‘Okay then, here we go.’ Rachel beamed, whilst feeling a butterfly-queasy stomach.

Granny took her hand; they shared a smile filled with love and understanding. The last to leave. Rachel took a look around her; this would be the last day she lived here at Primrose Farm, and a wave of emotion swept over her. Oh my, she needed to get a grip. But then, she reminded herself, it was also going to be the first day of the rest of her life … as a married woman to caring, hard-working and handsome Tom. Her next step felt lighter.

Flash, a bay-and-white stocky – and ironically slow – pony, stood patiently outside, his dark-wood carriage decorated with white ribbons and pink and white roses. It looked very much as if Wendy had been working on more than she’d admitted or charged for, bless her. David’s gorgeous pony and trap, which his grandchildren adored, was often brought out to help at summer fêtes and such like, and here it was today all ready to take Rachel and Ruth to the church.

As Rachel reached the carriage, she bustled up her sweeping skirt, anxious to keep it perfect, and she took David’s hand to step up.

‘Hah, I feel a bit like the Queen,’ said Granny Ruth, who was now giving her best royal wave as she settled down beside her. ‘Just practising …’

Rachel shook her head, grinning at her characterful grandmother.

‘Oh, David,’ Rachel called out, ‘you couldn’t do me a favour and grab my wellies from the porch, could you? I have an idea what Tom was planning for the journey back, and I really don’t think white satin slingbacks will cut the mustard.’

‘Of course, and Rachel, you look a real treat. I bet your dad’ll be looking down right now with a right big grin on his face.’

‘Thank you, David,’ Rachel managed to reply with a lump in her throat.

Rachel and Ruth squeezed each other’s hands tight.

David popped the wellingtons into the carriage, climbed onto his seat and took up the reins. ‘Ready?’

‘Ready.’ And Rachel felt so very sure that she was.

44

The lane to Kirkton Church was lined with onlookers and well-wishers, and Ruth had managed to implement her royal wave several times, with Rachel beaming and waving too. A fashionably three minutes late, but not enough to give the groom any palpitations, the carriage drew up outside the church gate.

There was a flurry of activity as the bridesmaids and Jill gathered with excited chatter, Maisy and Amelia skipping up with their flower baskets swinging wildly. There were lots of ‘Oohs’ and ‘Aahs’ from the gathering, and ‘Doesn’t she look lovely’ ringing out. A cheer went up as the bride-to-be stepped down from the carriage, and she spent a moment thanking David and giving Flash a gentle thank-you rub on his soft cheek.