Page 21 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

There was an intense smell of warm sugary fruits as Rachel entered the kitchen. There was Granny, standing stirring the contents of a large steel pan with a wooden spoon. ‘Oh, sorry pet – is that the time? I’m not quite ready for you.’

‘No worries. What delights are you concocting here?’ Rachel leaned over to take a look at the glossy mixture.

‘Jam – blackberry and apple. I’m using those apples you gave me from your tree last week. Thought it might go nice on a fruit scone with some butter.’

‘Well, it certainly smells delicious.’

‘I’ve finished one batch of blackberry and raspberry, already. Thought that’d go nicely in the next Jam Roly-Poly I make.’

Rachel was impressed. Despite being in her eighties, her grandmother still loved to cook and nurture. Baking was such a strong influence from both sides of Rachel’s family – no wonder she had got the bug.

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Well, next week, I’ll make one of those for you all, too. I know it’s one of Maisy’s favourites.’

‘That’d be lovely, Granny. Just perfect with lashings of creamy custard.’

‘Right, well, this just needs to cool a little and then we can pour it into the jars here.’

A row of squeaky-clean jam jars was waiting on the kitchen side. Beside them were squares of red gingham muslin and thin elastic bands ready to cover the lids.

‘I’ll just nip upstairs and get my things together. I’ll not be long; I’ve already packed an overnight bag.’

‘I’ll help fill these if you like, while you finish getting ready.’

‘Thank you, pet, that’d be grand.’

The old lady came back down just as her granddaughter was placing the material squares over each metal lid.

‘Take some back with you, lass, and you can use them in the Pantry.’

‘Will do, thanks Granny. I’m sure they’ll go down a treat.’

‘So, how are you, pet? And how are things going with that nice young man of yours?’ Ruth was gathering her coat and shoes.

‘Good, thanks …’ Rachel’s voice trailed a little.

‘Rightio – but you sound a little disheartened, lass.’ Granny Ruth could pick up on Rachel’s mood like no one else.

‘Oh, Granny! It’s just life getting in the way. I’m so busy right now, and me and Tom, well, we get on so well, and it’s been lovely, but we don’t get an awful lot of time to see each other really. Well, not on our own. I can’t keep upping and leaving Maisy and Mum and the farm.’

Granny was nodding, listening.

‘I’m worried he might be getting a bit fed up with it all …’

‘Ah, and have you spoken with him about it?’ asked Ruth in a gentle tone.

‘Well, not properly, no. It should be pretty obvious how busy I am, though.’

‘Hmm, well in any relationship, you need to start by being honest with each other. You’ve got to be a team. Me and your granda didn’t always see eye to eye, but we learnt to talk things through, to come to understand each other. And life’s always going to be busy for you with the farm and everything else, Rachel, but if this relationship with Tom is worth it, maybe you need to make some time, don’t you think?’

‘Maybe …’ Rachel breathed out with a small sigh. ‘Thanks, Granny.’

‘He seems a good man, Tom. I like him, and it’s obvious that he cares for you. Nothing like that waste-of-space Jake you paired up with.’

Rachel grimaced; it was no secret that the intuitive Granny Ruth was far from Jake’s biggest fan – not that she’d say anything in front of Maisy.

‘And don’t be afraid to ask for help, pet. Me and your mum are always happy to help out with Maisy, and where we can on the farm. Don’t pile too much on yourself, you’re not Wonder Woman.’