Page 91 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

Rachel had the feeling that her mum was also trying to give them a little space.

‘See you in a minute then, Mum.’

‘Okay, Jill,’ said Tom.

‘I’m glad I’ve been out and seen it, mind, thanks Tom.’

As the door to the farmhouse closed, the two of them instinctively took a step closer to each other. Rachel watched as a snowflake or two stuck, then melted, on Tom’s bottom lip. She couldn’t resist kissing him, placing her lips right there where the snowflakes had been, the snow falling all around them, padding softly against their coats, melting in their hair, on their hands.

It was truly a winter wonderland moment, and Rachel didn’t want it to end any time soon. They didn’t rush, the kiss was long and lingering, and so very heartfelt.

Later that night, after they’d made love, slowly, tenderly and very quietly, for fear of waking Maisy or disturbing anyone else in the house, Rachel lay there in her double bed, listening to Tom’s steady breathing as he settled to sleep beside her. She felt slightly overwhelmed in a beautiful way; she couldn’t even begin to put into words how she felt about him right now. Could she dare to dream even bigger? Might she and Tom have a family of their own one day, a brother or sister for little Maisy? Her heart swelled for him, for what they had together. She had to confess it felt a huge bit like love.

42

‘He’s been, he’s been! The presents are here, Mummy.’ Maisy came bowling into Rachel’s room at seven the next morning. She tumbled on to the bed to find her mummy’s head on one pillow and then Tom’s on the other.

‘Oh! Hi, Tom.’ It was a happy but surprised tone, as Maisy looked and squished her face up. ‘What’s Tom doing here, Mummy?’

‘Well …’ Rachel didn’t actually get the chance to try to give her simple explanation (planned in her head last night) about them wanting to be together a bit more, as Maisy had it all worked out for herself within a second. ‘Ah, I think Father Christmas sent you, Tom. To stop Mummy being lonely.’ Only Maisy could have come up with that one.

‘Well yes, maybe that’s it, Maisy,’ said Rachel.

And so that was it, Tom’s arrival was accepted.

‘Morning, Maisy. Happy Christmas! And yes, absolutely,’ grinned Tom. ‘I actually had a little word with the main man himself.’

‘You did? But no one can see him. Not on Christmas night. Only earlier at those special otter places, like at the castle and things.’

Otter? ‘Don’t you mean grotto, Maisy?’ Rachel queried.

‘Otto yes, those.’

‘Well, I sent a letter actually. Up my chimney,’ added Tom.

‘Ooh, we did that too.’

‘Merry Christmas, darling.’ Rachel bundled her little girl up in her arms with a big kiss.

‘Come on then, Mummy. We need to go see what Father Christmas has brought.’ Maisy was tugging at her hand.

‘Hang on, just let me get my dressing gown on.’ Rachel had already put her nightie on in the middle of the night, ready for the dawn landing of an excited five-year-old.

Maisy was suddenly drawn to the bedroom window. ‘Yay! It’s snowed.’ Her voice was filled with wonder. ‘We can make a big snowman, Mummy!’ Then Maisy squinted her eyes, pressed her nose against the glass, and thrust her hands on her hips, just as Rachel heard the moo of a cow, far too close for comfort. ‘Mummy, why are Macduff and the cows outside in the garden? They’re making a mess of all the snow.’

‘You what?’ Rachel was up and out of the bed like a shot, soon standing beside her daughter.

It was still only half light, but the shapes of the cattle were distinct, having a nice plod and chew in Grandma Jill’s flower beds beneath the bedroom window. ‘Oh no! Oh my! Tom! Gonna need a hand.’

Tom was out of bed in a second and standing in just his boxer shots. Now that would have been a real Christmas morning treat for Rachel, if there hadn’t been a five-year-old in the room, plus a herd of errant cattle stomping all over their garden borders. Why this morning of all mornings? Rachel groaned inwardly. Couldn’t life give her a break, just this once?

Granny Ruth’s voice suddenly burst from the landing. ‘Rachel, Ji-ll, the cattle are out!’ Her head poked in around the door frame, still in its curlers and net. She’d wanted to look smart with her hair curled for Christmas Day, but hadn’t counted on the abrupt awakening. Jill arrived on the scene next, in her dressing gown and slippers.

‘Come on, then,’ Tom called them to action. ‘Let’s get this lot rounded up before they cause more damage, or eat something they shouldn’t.’

‘Hold fire, just one second Tom,’ replied Jill with a hint of smile. ‘I think I need to get you a boiler suit of Robert’s or something else to put on at least.’

‘Okey dokey,’ he laughed, looking down at his bare torso.