Page 95 of Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

How fitting that was, in this year of converting the barn and making the Pantry dream a reality, with all its trials and tribulations, the highs, lows and special moments that had gone into getting them all this far.

‘It’s perfect, thank you.’ Ooh, she could feel herself welling up.

‘Eve helped me this morning too,’ explained Jill. ‘We had a bit of a rush to do it all.’

‘That’s lovely of her. And yes, I bet.’

‘That’s why I was still in my dressing gown and curlers until just before you got back,’ Ruth chuckled.

‘Oh, and I’ve made name signs, Mummy – look.’ Maisy was brimming with pride.

There were handmade card place names at each setting, decorated with glitter and glue and a festive image for everyone. ‘I’m Rudolph, Tom’s got Father Christmas, you’re the tree and Granny Ruth’s the pudding.’

‘She chose them all herself. Very fitting,’ said Jill.

‘And I wrote the names on all by myself, too.’

‘Ah, I can see that, in your very best handwriting.’

‘Grandma told me the spellings.’

‘They are really lovely. Well done, Maisy.’

And then something caught Rachel’s eye in the glass counter that she was sure she’d left empty yesterday. A wonderful looking Pavlova with whipped cream and all her favourite fruits on, raspberries, strawberries and blueberries.

‘Granny Ruth made the rang-er.’ This was Maisy’s very own word for meringue, finding it hard to say when she was younger. ‘And I put the strawberries and things on.’

‘Wow, we are going to have such a feast! Thank you, everyone, it looks amazing.’

‘Right, well, we’d better get back to the farmhouse,’ said Jill. ‘I need to get the roast potatoes on next. It won’t be that long until our guests start arriving. I’ll still cook the roast dinner over there in the Aga, and my plan is to carry it across to serve.’

‘Let me give you a hand now, Mum. I’ll make the cheese sauce for the leeks, shall I?’

‘Yes, that’d be good. Thanks, love.’

‘I’m happy you liked your surprise, Mummy,’ Maisy chanted, taking Rachel’s hand, as they walked back over to the farmhouse. ‘It was like when you did the barn for my birthday party.’

‘Gosh, yes.’ Back in the spring she’d made a birthday surprise for Maisy, setting up the old disused stone barn as a birthday party venue for her little girl. From there, the seed for the Pudding Pantry was sown and the idea had grown. ‘And I don’t just like it, Maisy, I love it.’

Tom arrived at the farmhouse ten minutes later with his platter of smoked salmon slices, sprinkled with black pepper and garnished with lemon slices. He’d also buttered a small mountain of thinly sliced brown bread to accompany it, all wrapped in cling film.

‘That looks wonderful, Tom, thank you. I’ll pop it in the larder to keep it cool,’ said Jill.

‘Oh, and I’ve a little something else.’ He pulled a small square gift from his pocket. ‘Maisy, this is for you.’

Oh, how thoughtful. Rachel and Tom hadn’t yet exchanged gifts, and with this morning being all go, there was still a small pile for Maisy yet to open under the tree.

‘Thank you, Tom. Can I open it now, Mummy?’

‘Yes, that’s fine. Go ahead.’

Maisy unwrapped a small box and carefully unfolded white tissue paper. It was a pretty silver bracelet with butterflies on, very grown-up. Maisy held it out with a big smile. ‘Can I put it on?’

Rachel placed it on her wrist.

‘Oh, it’s lovely, Tom, thank you,’ beamed Maisy.

‘You’ll have to look after it mind, and keep it for special occasions,’ said Rachel.