Page 60 of Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

Chapter 25

PUDDING PREPARATIONS

Invites had been sent and flyers posted around Kirkton village. Friday the 12th July was officially going to be the big day for opening, with the launch for the local community the day before. It was all hands on deck getting the Pudding Pantry ready. They’d be a little pushed to have it all done in time, but they didn’t want to delay any further and miss the peak summer trading weeks.

It was now Wednesday, oh yes, the day before the launch, and the builders were still in situ in the barn, much to Rachel’s concern. They’d said it would only take a few hours but they had a few final tasks to tick off.

Jill was busy baking an army’s worth of food in the farmhouse kitchen. ‘So, I’m making brownies this afternoon and first thing tomorrow morning I’ve got to finish off all the mini puds and meringues. I’ve also got some mini cake moulds to make individual Victoria sponges for the launch party too – they’ll look lovely with a swirl of fresh cream and a strawberry on the top, don’t you think?’

Rachel noticed that Jill was talking at a thousand miles an hour. She had a dab of flour on her cheek and big streaks of chocolate sauce on her apron, which looked a little skew-whiff.

‘Oh yes, they’ll look very summery. Are you okay, Mum? You’ve been running around like a whirling dervish! And I’ve never seen someone mix so quickly – you’ll be setting a world record soon enough.’

‘Oh I’m grand, don’t worry, I’m well and truly in the baking zone!’

‘Well, as long as you’re giving yourself little breaks. Oh, and I do hope the weather holds, Mum. How many are coming now?’ Rachel asked.

‘It was going to be a small gathering but I think it’s growing by the day,’ Jill said, smiling as though she really didn’t mind.

‘Oh well, it’ll be good for promotion, and you do seem to be baking enough for the whole village.’

‘Hah, probably, I can’t help myself. There’s at least twenty or so definites that I know of, and then we put a general flyer out, didn’t we, so who knows who else might decide to turn up. So, there’s Brenda from the Deli with her husband, the journalist lady from the Alnwick newspaper, plus that chap from the tourist information, a few of our farming friends, Jan, oh and I’ve asked Tom’s parents, saw them in the Co-op yesterday, then there’s Eve and family, Charlotte and her Sam, the two builder chaps … I asked them earlier this morning, said they’d love to come.’ Mum had started to tally up the numbers on her fingers, but she’d run out of digits.

‘And I mentioned it to a couple of the mums from school who said they’d pop along … oh, plus Tom, of course,’ Rachel added. ‘And I imagine Granny Ruth’s coming over?’

‘Of course, she wouldn’t want to miss out on something like this. Crikey, that’s probably well over twenty already, isn’t it? Hmm,’ Jill confessed, ‘I think I may have also mentioned it at the last Kirkton WI meeting too – a sort of open invitation.’

‘Mu-um.’

‘It’ll be fine, the more the merrier. It’ll spread the word about the Pudding Pantry and that’s what we want, isn’t it?’

Gosh, it was going to end up costing them quite a bit, but if it got into the local press as a feature, then that would really help publicity and hopefully increase interest in the coming weeks anyhow.

And you know what, it was something to celebrate! They’d put in two of the hardest and saddest years of their lives. This was a new start, a new venture and finally something to be positive about.

Despite the earlier assurances of the builders, it was five past five on the Wednesday evening when Ian and Dan put a final rub of Dutch Oil over the Pudding Pantry’s new oak counter top, packed up their tools in the barn, and put their equipment away in their white Transit van. They knocked on the farmhouse door for a quick farewell chat with a slightly disgruntled Rachel and Jill, who were desperate to get into the barn and start setting things up.

‘That’s it all done,’ said Ian.

‘Nothing like taking us to the wire, chaps,’ Rachel commented wryly, but with good humour.

‘Come across and take a look then, before we head off. We want to be sure it’s all as it should be.’

Rachel had been popping in throughout the day, but with all the tools, dustsheets and gear around them it was hard to gauge the finished job. As she walked in, along with Maisy and Jill, her mouth dropped. It was like time stood still for a few seconds as they looked about them. The Pudding Pantry was a reality, with its old stone walls all repointed and a warm-honey colour under the soft lighting, its kitchen area with the new white and grey tiles above the cooker and the glass refrigerated counter that Jill had sourced at a bargain price from an auction up in Berwick-upon-Tweed, next to the oak counter top.

Wow, look, they’d even moved the seating and furniture back in from the shed, where they’d been since she and Eve had painted them white, as well as the two dressers – one of which had been donated by Granny Ruth, who said it was just gathering dust in her cottage.

‘Oh my goodness. It’s just as I hoped. No … it’s even better.’ Rachel had tears in her eyes, as she brushed a hand over the counter top, imagining the puddings and cakes up there in all their glory.

‘It’s fabulous,’ said Jill. ‘Thank you.’

‘Whoop whoop!’ Maisy went dashing around, spreading her arms out like an aeroplane. ‘Now, it’s better than my party day. Can I have another party in here, Mummy?’

‘Well, we’ve got a party for everyone here tomorrow, petal.’

‘Oh, yes. Yippee!’

‘Thank you so much.’ Rachel went across to Ian and Dan to shake their hands warmly. ‘You’ve made our dream a reality.’