Page 90 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

With it being an emotional night, it suddenly dawned on Rachel that asking Tom to stay over might have been selfish in the circumstances. A big ‘need to do better’ sign was flashing away in her head. She ought to come clean.

‘Look, I’m sorry, Mum, maybe I should have thought … but it’s just … I’ve asked Tom to stay for tonight. Maybe it’s not a good time. He’s just nipped home to fetch Mabel, but I can call him, tell him to come across in the morning instead.’

‘Don’t be so silly, our lass. Tom’s more than welcome. And I’m happy to see you two getting on so well. Life’s for living, Rachel. Dad wouldn’t want us to stop enjoying it.’

‘Thanks … And yes, you’re right; this evening just brings it all home though, doesn’t it? Doing the Christmas list and all the Rudolph rituals with Maisy earlier, it felt like he was right there with me.’ Rachel had a glint of a tear in her eye. ‘It’s been an evening full of memories, hasn’t it?’

‘Ah, yes, all those years of Christmases we had together when you were little. I just think what he’s missing out on now, pet. Missing little Maisy growing up when he’d have loved to have seen that. It all seems such a waste. The silly old bugger. Then I get myself a bit emotional and annoyed, and it gets jumbled up like a big fat lump in my heart.’ Jill let out a slow sigh. ‘Rachel, when your Dad died, something in me died as well. And I know you’re feeling a bit uncomfortable about me and Daniel, but these past few weeks – finding that little bit of friendship – I feel like I’ve come back to life, just a little. It’s very early days, and yes, we might just stay as friends, who knows? It’ll be small steps, whatever, I’m in no rush at all to get involved with anyone new, but if I ever do, it doesn’t mean that I’ll ever stop loving your father.’

‘I know that and I’m sorry, Mum. I think I’ve been a bit selfish.’

‘It’s all right, love. None of this has been easy for any of us. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about spending a bit of time with Dan. I just didn’t know what to make of it myself, I suppose.’

‘Oh, it’s okay, Mum, I understand. And I miss Dad so much, too.’ Rachel headed across and knelt before her mum on the hearthrug, gently taking her hand. ‘We’re doing all right here though, aren’t we?’ Rachel was still thoughtful, thinking of the bigger picture; the farm, the Pantry, their family.

‘Yes, I think we are, pet. We’re managing to hold it all together – and more. Your dad would be proud of the great job you’re doing on the farm, and how you’ve coped with it all.’

‘Thanks, Mum. He’d have been proud of you too. All the hard work and energy you’ve put into the Pudding Pantry and, all of those amazing puddings you’ve created. Hah, we’ve even won an award, for goodness’ sake – Christmas Pudding of the Year in the Gazette! Thanks to good old Granny Ruth and her recipe.’

‘Yes, what a year it’s been, hey.’

‘Absolutely,’ Rachel agreed. She took her mum into her arms for a short burst of a hug. ‘Love you, Mum.’

‘Aw, pet. I love you, too.’

‘Well then, shall I pour us a Bailey’s Irish Cream, just as a little treat while we go and set out the breakfast table?’

‘Now that, my girl, sounds a grand idea.’

Rachel and Jill were busy in the kitchen when Tom arrived back twenty minutes later.

‘Hey,’ he popped his head around the kitchen door, revealing a dusting of white on his coat, ‘it’s started to snow.’

‘Really?’ commented Jill.

‘Oh, we were so busy setting up in here, we’ve hardly had the chance to look up.’ Rachel glanced at the window. Against the dark of the night was a gentle swirl of snowflakes, some settling and melting on the pane.

Mabel came dashing in to greet Moss, with a sprinkling of snow on her back, and the dogs circled each other happily.

‘Well, come on, ladies. Outside now. It might not last,’ ordered Tom. ‘And don’t worry, it’s only the light stuff,’ he added seeing the look of concern cross Rachel’s face. ‘It’s nothing like that blizzard.’

‘Okay then, let’s get the wellies on, Mum. We can finish off here later. We’re nearly done, anyhow.’

How wonderful that it was falling on Christmas Eve.

‘So, Maisy got her wish, after all.’ Rachel smiled. ‘I just hope it doesn’t melt before morning.’

‘I’m not sure there’s enough yet to make a snowman for Maisy, mind,’ Tom added.

‘Oh well. It’ll look pretty out there, I’m sure.’

With coats and wellies soon on, they stepped outside into the yard, where there was already a dusting of icing sugar snow on the ground, with more swirling down around them in a hush of magical ice-crystal flakes. Rachel threw her head back and laughed, watching the flakes as they drifted down mesmerisingly, catching on her eyelashes, her nose.

Jill stood watching it fall around her, raising her hands to catch it in her palms. There was something magical about this kind of gentle snow. There was a distant baa from the fields, but the sheep were fine in a light fall like this and Rachel had made sure there was plenty of hay and feed put out for them today. The three of them stood, enjoying the hush that fell all around them along with the snow.

‘It’s wonderful,’ Rachel said happily, glad to be sharing the moment with both Tom and her mother.

‘It’s pretty, but brrr, it is rather chilly,’ added Jill. ‘I think I’ll get myself back inside.’