Page 30 of Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

A short while later, Tom made his way across to their table.

‘Hey, I enjoyed the party the other day.’

‘I assume you mean Maisy’s,’ Rachel answered, smiling. ‘Seeing as we’ve both been holed up in the lambing shed for the past month.’

‘Hmm, I wouldn’t mind being holed up in the lambing shed with someone …’ murmured Charlotte beside Rachel, who received a swift dig in the ribs to stop her saying any more.

‘I do indeed,’ Tom continued. ‘How is she doing?’

‘Oh, she’s fine. Full of energy. Buzzing around the farm like a little bee. She loved that book that you got her, by the way.’

‘Great. Bit of a gamble in WHSmith’s on which to choose actually. Not quite au fait with the reading tastes of five-year-olds.’

Rachel was suddenly taken back to that conversation with her little girl the night of her birthday, Maisy declaring that she wanted Tom to be her daddy, seeing as her own bloody father had never turned up to her party. Rachel looked up at Tom for a second. And really looked at him. She’d known him for years. He’d been the older kid next door when she was little; a teenager racing around on his quad; a married man who went away for a while; the single farmer next door … She remembered him taking her to see his terrier pups when she was just a small girl. He must have been, what, sixteen? He was so gentle with them all, and proud as he told her all about saving the one she was holding – the frail runt of the litter – explaining that his dad had said she wouldn’t make it, as she lay so still, but he had persevered with rubbing her, clearing her tiny mouth, puffing gently between her new-born lips, and that little pup turned out to be the mum of Mabel – his latest dog.

To Rachel he was just Tom. But she had to admit, perhaps there was something nice about him. He was tall, his dark hair short and slightly scruffy, he had kind eyes, a kind heart too, she was sure of that.

Whoa, where had these rogue thoughts come from? Hah, it was being around Eve and Charlotte, their crushes must be rubbing off on her. She shook the crazy thoughts away but had the feeling that she might just be blushing.

‘So, what’s the crack then?’ Tom turned his attention to the other ladies, as he pulled up a stool at their table.

‘Oh, normal stuff. Life, children, work, never enough hours in a day,’ said Eve.

‘Never enough wine in a glass,’ added Charlotte cheekily, shaking her near empty glass of rosé. ‘Come on Eve, it’s your round. Can we get you a drink in, Tom?’

‘Thanks, but I’m fine. I’ve just had the one pint, now I’m sticking to the Coca-Cola. I’ve just nipped out for a quick break while Adam’s there. Got a feeling I might be needed to help with the calving tonight.’

‘Oh right, hope it all goes well.’

‘Oh, have you heard the news? Rachel’s setting up a pudding business with her mum,’ announced Eve.

‘Now that is good news. So, you’re really making it happen then?’ He turned to Rachel with a warm smile. ‘Good for you. So, when and where can I buy something? You know I have been waiting for Jill’s takeaway puddings all my life.’

Rachel had to grin. ‘Well, we’ll be starting by selling some in the Kirkton Deli this coming week. We’re just trialling it, it’s early days yet.’

‘Brilliant. There’s a sticky toffee with my name on it there then.’

‘You might even get to be the first customer,’ Eve joined in.

‘No, that’s me. I’m in for a chocolate pudding as soon as they open on Monday,’ Charlotte announced, coming back with their drinks.

It felt good making plans, having hopes for a new beginning, however small to start.

By ten-thirty the girls felt pretty shattered. It was a school night, so Charlotte said she’d better be getting off soon. Eve was back to yawning again and whilst she wasn’t quite asleep under the table as yet, there were no signs of any of the three of them partying till dawn or dancing on the tables tonight.

‘Right, well we might as well make tracks.’ Rachel finished off the last of her cider. Charlotte’s boyfriend, Sam, was coming to pick her up. He had also offered to take the other two girls home, as both Jill and Eve’s husband couldn’t leave the little ones, who’d hopefully be tucked up fast asleep in bed by now.

Tom was also putting on his jacket at the bar. He walked across, spotting them getting up to go. ‘I’m heading off too. Can I give anyone a lift?’ he offered.

‘Ah, well, Sam had said he’d take us as he’s picking Charlotte up. But, I suppose if you’re already heading in our direction …’ Rachel responded. Charlotte and Sam lived in a hamlet across the other side of Kirkton.

Eve was nodding. ‘Yep, makes sense. Thanks, Tom.’

Outside the pub, they said their goodbyes to Charlotte, as Sam was already there parked up, the three of them promising to catch up again soon.

Tom drove them home through the dark country lanes, which felt extra twisty-turny now they’d had a drink or two (well, maybe five!). Eve and Rachel sat chatting in the two passenger seats in the front cab of the pick-up.

‘Been a good night, hasn’t it?’ said Eve.