Page 12 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘I know. Mine too.’ Jill’s voice was tinged with sorrow as well as love.

‘Well, then, we battle on, until we’ve given it every last shot,’ Rachel resolved. ‘I know I’ve just got to do my best with the farm work. But we’ll try not to be blinkered about it; and if it all gets too much and we’re about to go under financially, then …’ She sighed deeply and looked down at her hands in her lap. ‘We’ll have to be realistic and look to sell up. But until then, we give it everything we’ve got, yeah?’

‘Yes, absolutely. And it’s understandable that you’re tired, pet, it’s been hectic and you haven’t stopped for months. Heaven knows, the farm work’s enough on its own. And, even now with the Pantry being slower, you’re still on the go, looking for ways to boost business. You need to look after yourself too.’

‘I suppose.’

‘I know.’ Jill gave her a stern look.

‘Hah, “Your mother is always right”,’ Rachel quipped.

‘Too true.’ Jill quirked an eyebrow. ‘And Rachel,’ her mum’s tone became serious, ‘don’t keep it all in, will you? If it feels like things are getting too much, talk to me, love, tell me. We’ll face things together.’ They both knew what Jill was referring to; the dreadful circumstances surrounding her father’s death. ‘It’s good that we’re talking tonight, but don’t feel you’ve got to carry the load on your own. Don’t ever be afraid to ask for help.’

‘Of course, Mum, and I promise.’

‘So, we won’t be giving up cowpats, boiler suits and baking aprons any time soon then,’ Jill said, resolutely.

‘Of course not – and oh, the glamour, hey?’

They both raised a smile, as they gazed into the flickering fire.

6

The weekend rolled around and it was one of those picture-perfect autumn days with golden and russet trees glowing against the fresh, blue backdrop of sky, which was streaked with soft wisps of cloud.

Maisy was helping out around the Pantry. She had her own little pink apron on, with white polka dots, that matched her grandma’s, and she seemed happy enough wrapping up knives and forks in napkins. Rachel did worry that her little girl spent far too much time with them working at the Pantry or on the farm. Yet, they didn’t have a lot of choice. Yes, Eve would have her sometimes or Granny Ruth might stop by, but otherwise, where else was she going to go?

As elevenses time swung around, Tom stopped by for his Saturday morning coffee break.

‘Good morning, ladies. It’s a beauty out there, isn’t it?’ His sunny smile lit the room, as well as Rachel’s heart.

‘Too right. Morning, Tom.’

‘Hi, Tom.’

‘Hi, Maisy. I see you’re doing a grand job there. I bet you’re a star helper.’

‘She is indeed,’ agreed Grandma Jill.

‘Hey, Maisy,’ Tom grinned, ‘what do you say to a cow if it’s in your way?’

‘Ah … Don’t know?’

‘You tell it to Mooooove!’ He gave her a wink.

Maisy started giggling, then repeated the phrase exaggeratedly, ‘MOOOOVE – that’s funny, Tom. I’m going to tell that to Granny Ruth and my friend Amelia.’

‘So, what’s on today then, folks?’

‘Well, it’s just another day here at the Pantry for us,’ answered Rachel, ‘and we’ll just have to see how many people we get in.’

‘Ah, well, I have a couple of hours to spare and I wondered if I might whisk you off somewhere, actually.’

‘Oh, I’m not sure …’ Rachel glanced across at her mum.

Jill was quick to respond. ‘Go on, get yourself away. Look how quiet it’s been; I’ll manage just fine.’

True, there was only one couple in, sitting having a shared pudding platter with a pot of tea.