Page 49 of Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘Ah come on, Rach. Chill a bit. It’s early yet.’

She reluctantly acquiesced and Carl headed to the bar again to order. It was obvious that Carl wouldn’t be able to give her a lift home now that he’d had four pints, but Rachel was definitely feeling ready to head back soon. She’d have plenty to get up and do on the farm in the morning, and she really didn’t fancy another hangover. She was about half-way through her fourth glass of wine, finding the taste a bit sour now, and was just thinking of organising a taxi for herself as the farm was a good three miles away – her ‘date’ hadn’t seemed to have thought of that – when Carl piped up, ‘So, are you fancying a nightcap back at mine? Well, at my digs at the B&B.’ His smile widened as one brow arched, and she knew instantly what kind of nightcap he was thinking of.

‘Oh sorry,’ she blurted out. ‘But I really need to be getting back for Maisy.’

Wow, she hardly knew this guy. Yes, she was aware people had one night stands all the time, but it really wasn’t her thing. She knew where nights like that could end and it wasn’t for her. She also had a little girl and a mother waiting at home for her.

‘Ah, come on babe. The night is still young. You could still head back later.’

After a quick shag, he means.Rachel was starting to get irritated with his pushy, entitled attitude. But she didn’t want to cause an argument, or a scene, and she tried to stay polite.

‘Look, I’ve had a nice night.’ Up until now. ‘But I really don’t know you that well, Carl.’

‘Hey, well, I find you don’t always have to know someone that well to have a good time.’ His trademark smile suddenly looked way too arrogant.

So, this was what this evening was all about, ‘having a good time’, a quick shag. She hated that word, but it seemed fitting with Carl’s expectations.

So, this was how it worked with Carl Turner. He bought you a few drinks and then expected a favour in return. It would pass another boring work night away. He probably had casual acquaintances all over the place. She wouldn’t put it past him having a girlfriend back home too. Her guard was right up.

She noticed Tom glancing across at her from the bar just then. Was her face giving away her unease? But she was more than capable of handling this on her own.

‘Well, I’m going to book myself a taxi, Carl. In fact, I can see there’s one waiting at the village square.’ With that she grabbed her handbag and stood up; thank heavens she still had a ten-pound note left in her purse. Carl didn’t try to stop her or even to see her to the taxi. She walked tall with her head held high, out through the pub door. Phew, great, she spotted Jim, the local cabbie, there in his usual spot, and swiftly made her way to his saloon car.

‘Hey there, Rachel.’ You see, everyone did know everyone in Kirkton. ‘Nice night, pet?’

‘Not bad,’ she lied.

‘Heading back to the farm?’

‘Yes, please.’ Back to the farm. Back to normal. No more thoughts of stupid date nights. Her bloody track record with men was still abysmal. She seemed drawn to the dickheads.

That was the last she wanted to see of Carl bloody Turner. She’d obviously pay his bill for the work done on the barn, but … she’d be getting someone else in to fit the Pudding Pantry chandeliers, if she could ever afford them!

As the taxi pulled away, Rachel noticed the door to The Black Bull open. Out came Tom, looking around him with an edge of concern. He clocked the taxi, and spotted Rachel looking out from the rear window. He nodded at her then, and tentatively raised a hand, signalling goodnight. She gave him a small smile, and watched him turn around as her taxi pulled out into the night.