Page 59 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘Don’t be daft, pet.’ She batted the idea away, but she was still beaming broadly.

‘A natural,’ added Daniel warmly.

As the club night came to an end, Daniel and Jill chatted as the group were beginning to gather coats, hats and scarves ready for the journey home.

‘Jill has some of her own special Christmas puds on the counter for sale, and I do believe Granny Ruth’s Whisky and Orange will soon be featuring in the Pudding Pantry selection too. Thanks for coming everyone, and next time we meet will be the last session before Christmas, so it’s all about easy Christmas bakes and cakes, ideal for the family and any last-minute extra guests,’ said Rachel to the departing crowd.

‘That sounds great, thank you.’

‘Lovely night.’

‘Brilliant.’

‘I’m definitely going to try Granny Ruth’s recipe out.’

‘See you soon then, everyone.’

There was a scraping of chairs. The barn door opened and a draught of chill November air came blasting in as the club members drifted out in small groups, still chatting away. The two young mums gave a cheery wave as they left, with Alice by their side, sharing tips on weaning.

‘Pureed apple and pear, that was always popular with my two,’ Rachel overheard Kirsty saying. ‘You can freeze any extra you make too.’

‘Thanks, I might start with that soon. He’s nearly six months now.’

‘Yeah, that’s about the right time,’ added Hannah.

A new friendship group within the club was forming. It was so lovely to see the Pudding Club putting a smile on people’s faces.

Daniel was the last to head off, saying his goodbyes to Ruth and Jill. Rachel spotted a warm smile pass between him and her mum. Now what was that about? Rachel couldn’t dwell on it for long, preoccupied with seeing people out of the door, but this was something she’d come back to later …

Oh, wasn’t it lovely to see baking bringing everyone together? The Pudding Club seemed to have just the right ingredients.

25

With the club guests now gone, the three Swinton ladies sat down for a quick breather before tackling the clearing up.

‘Granny Ruth, you were a triumph! Thank you so much for helping tonight,’ said Rachel.

‘Oh, I enjoyed it, pet. What a friendly bunch they all are, too.’

‘Yes, it seems to be working out really well,’ added Jill. ‘I’m so glad you twisted my arm on this idea.’ There was a lightness to her tone that hadn’t been there for a long time. It seemed to Rachel that the Pudding Club wasn’t just a tonic for their guests. ‘Would you like to stay over tonight, Ruth, to have a bit of company and save the journey back?’ Jill continued.

‘Thank you, Jill, but no, I’d rather get back to my own little cottage this evening, if you don’t mind. This cough’s been niggling and the last thing you need is me spluttering away and keeping you awake all night.’

‘We could look after you – we wouldn’t mind,’ said Rachel.

‘Thank you, but I’d rather get myself tucked up in my own bed with a little tot of whisky. That’s as good as anything.’

‘I’ll take you home then, Ruth, I expect you’ll be tired after that marvellous cookery display,’ offered Jill.

‘Thanks.’ Another nasty coughing bout ensued and Ruth gripped the back of a chair to steady herself.

Rachel was really worried about her granny now. This cough didn’t seem to be getting any better. Though she was mentally a strong and feisty lady, she was in her eighties and her body was understandably getting older and frailer. ‘I’d get yourself back to the doctor, if I were you, Granny, if that doesn’t start clearing soon. In fact, I’ll take you down to the surgery myself.’

‘We’ll see, we’ll see. A good night’s sleep will help put me right, lass, that’s probably all I need.’

Rachel decided she was going to keep a closer eye on Ruth from now on. There was an independent and stubborn streak among the Swinton ladies and Rachel was determined that Granny wasn’t going to adhere to that, above the importance of her health.

With Ruth and Jill out of the door, and Maisy over at Eve’s, Rachel, unusually, had the farmhouse to herself. All was quiet, too quiet. She sat for a while at the kitchen table, thinking of Christmas to come, reflecting on the year they’d had, and hoping to goodness she could pull off this Pudding Pantry business venture. Without thinking, she wandered upstairs and found herself standing at the wardrobe in her mum and dad’s room. She opened the heavy wooden doors and rummaged along the rail. There it was. An old, well-worn jumper of Dad’s. She pulled it out and took a long, slow sniff. His aftershave still lingered there, just. But more than that it was the smell of him. Dad.