Page 77 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

Rachel breathed out with a small sigh. She already knew the answer to that, but did Tom feel the same way?

‘Thank you, Granny. You always know what to say. What would I do without you, eh?’

37

With only five days to go until Christmas, the weather took a turn for the worse. Snow was pummelling down outside Primrose Farm’s kitchen window, there was already a thick layer mounting on the sill, and a chill wind was roaring around the house. This wasn’t the pretty, magical dusting of two days ago, no, this was a blizzard, and if it kept on going like this it’d spell big trouble for their sheep out in the fields.

A concerned look passed between Rachel and Jill, with memories of a past harsh winter and the spiral of events thereafter.

Mother and daughter hadn’t exactly put their differences aside since their blowup, and things were still pretty frosty between them, but they were trying to be civil – for Maisy’s sake, at least.

‘It’s worse than they forecast, isn’t it,’ said Jill, her brow furrowing.

‘Yes, it’ll be starting to drift out there,’ answered Rachel.

It was still early, only breakfast time, and Rachel was standing finishing her coffee. But she was well aware she’d need to get out to feed and check on her flock very soon. There was no time to waste and the longer she left it, the harder it would be to get through to them.

‘Can I build a snowman? A big one this time?’ asked Maisy innocently.

‘Not just now, petal. This is a storm. The wind is wild and raw so it’s no place to play.’

‘Oh.’ A shadow crossed her little face; she could hear the warning in her mum’s tone.

Looking out, the sky was a metallic grey between the furious flakes of white. It looked as though it was dusk, even though it was only eight thirty in the morning.

‘I’m going to have to go out and check on them soon. I can’t just leave them, Mum.’

‘I know.’ There was a flicker of fear in Jill’s eyes, however.

‘What’s wrong, Mummy? Is something in trouble?’

‘It’s the sheep, Maisy, they’re all out in the fields with little shelter. I need to make sure they are safe and can get to their food.’ She didn’t add that if this kept going the likelihood was that drifts would form that could bury them. The animals would huddle by the hedgerows and that shelter would eventually become their tomb as the snow drifted higher, covering them.

‘Oh, can I come?’

‘No, Maisy, you need to stay here with Grandma.’ Rachel’s voice was firm.

‘But what about Petie? Is he in trouble too?’

‘He might be, but that’s why I need to go out and check.’ There was no point lying to her little girl. These snowstorms had happened before and Rachel knew she had to get out to check where the sheep were, to find any that might already be buried under the snow, and to clear a safe pathway for them to get to their hay and feed.

Maisy went quiet, her lip beginning to wobble.

‘Are you sure you’ll be all right up there on your own?’ Jill asked with concern.

‘We don’t have a lot of options, do we? Simon will never get through if it’s as bad as it looks out there and you need to stay here with Maisy.’

‘All right, yes, well at least you’ve had a quick coffee, so something warm inside you at least. But what about breakfast; can I cook you some eggs, toast?’

‘No, I want to get on, Mum. Time is of the essence.’

‘Well, here, take a couple of flapjacks with you.’ She wrapped up two of the biscuits in cling film and passed them across. ‘And I’ll make you up a flask too. The kettle’s already boiled.’

‘Okay, thanks.’

Jill’s insistence on keeping her fed and watered seemed like a small olive branch.

‘And make sure you put an extra layer on under your waterproofs, and take the weatherproof gloves and a hat.’