Page 56 of Summer at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

Despite the fact she was putting on a brave face and mentally preparing a way forward, there was no denying that Rachel felt troubled and saddened by what was happening. She had heard this morning from Frank that his elderly neighbour Irene, one of the Pantry’s regulars, had cancelled her morning coffee trip with a friend, as her daughter had passed on her concerns about the cleanliness of the place after reading one of the reviews. Frank, bless him, had told Irene it was ‘all a load of old tosh’ and ‘nonsense’. But Rachel was undeniably worried about the trickle-down effect of the comments. She prayed it wasn’t about to get worse.

Life on the farm had to go on, however, and the next day Rachel made her usual early morning rounds, checking on her cattle and sheep grazing out in the fields. Thankfully, all seemed well on that front, and the country views and fresh air lifted her spirits a little. Mum had nipped out to Kirkton to see Brenda and to pick up a few items at the deli, and Rachel had a spare hour before she was due to open the Pantry. She decided that a little baking therapy was what was needed. Unsure of what to make, she took down the Baking Bible from its shelf in the kitchen and, intending to leaf through it, she found it had fallen open at one of Jill’s handwritten recipes: blueberry and lemon muffins. A perfect pick-me-up. Something they could sell at the Pantry and enjoy on their coffee break themselves. Maisy would also be delighted to find a zingy, fruity muffin ready for her when she got back from school.

Rachel rummaged through the kitchen cupboards for the ingredients, finding flour, sugar, fresh eggs collected from the farm, creamy butter in the fridge. Luckily, they had a punnet of blueberries in, as they were one of Maisy’s favourites. Pinafore on, her bright red spotty one, radio playing in the background, and she was ready to cook. As she weighed out all the ingredients, sieving the flour and listening to the reassuring hum of the mixer, it all felt therapeutic. The muffin tins were lined with polka-dot paper cases, and the oven of the Aga awaited. Spooning the pale-cream mixture into each case, whilst humming along to some country music on the radio, took her mind off her troubles, for a short while at least. The warm, sugar-sweet aroma of baking – with a hint of berry and citrus – soon began to fill the kitchen.

Baking might not make all your problems go away, but it sure seemed like therapy to Rachel just now.

30

It was the following evening, and Rachel was about to hold the last Pudding Club session before the wedding, although there would also be the special bonus club night on the eve of the festivities, when all the members would be pitching in from home to make the catering spread extra-special. Cake stands had already been offered to ensure that every table at the reception had its own very pretty feast.

Rachel was taking the helm solo tonight, as Jill was staying home to look after Maisy; the little girl still seemed tired after a busy few days at school and all the emotions of Jake’s recent visit, and she needed to get a good night’s sleep to be up and perky for her lessons the next day. Granny Ruth was feeling poorly, her cough back with a vengeance, bless her. So Rachel told her to stay in and have an early night, hoping to goodness she’d be feeling better by the wedding day.

Rachel needed to visit Ruth soon. She had a special request to make of her. Perhaps she’d pop over tomorrow and check on how her granny was; take her some fresh eggs and some homemade soup from the Pantry. That might perk her up a bit.

With all that had been going on recently, Rachel hadn’t had time to plan particularly well for tonight’s meet-up. So yesterday, after baking the lemon and blueberry muffins when she had been feeling low, she had typed up that recipe to hand out at this evening’s meeting. She thought they could have a chat about ‘baking as therapy’. What were everyone’s go-to bakes when they felt a bit down or needed to take their mind off things? She hoped it would prove to be an interesting theme. It would certainly be a conversation starter, anyhow.

A quarter of an hour before the start time, Rachel was all set up in the Pantry with cups and saucers at the ready and the lemon and blueberry muffins stacked temptingly, centre-stage, at the club’s table for the evening. The members soon started arriving, taking up their seats with friendly ‘hellos’ and easy chatter.

As the guests filtered in, Rachel overheard young mum Alice whispering to Hannah, ‘Have you seen their Instagram page this week? It’s been dreadful.’

‘Yes, I know, I feel so sorry for Rachel and Jill.’

So, word was out. Rachel felt her cheeks burning. Bad news really did travel fast in this village. It wasn’t surprising, really; everyone seemed to be on social media these days – even Granny Ruth, rumour had it!

By seven o’clock, there were eleven Pudding Clubbers at the table: Charlotte, Eve, Jan and Brenda, Denise and Christine, Alice and Hannah, as well as Pamela and Nigel, and stalwart, Frank. Daniel had already sent in his apologies as he was filling in for holidays at the care home and had taken on an extra shift, and Kirsty’s little boy Callum had a sore tummy, so she was staying home just in case. Rachel took a deep breath, and thought she might as well make a start.

‘Hi, everyone. Hope you are all doing great.’

‘Yum, these look good, Rach. Are we having a muffin night or something?’ asked Brenda.

‘Not quite …’ Rachel suddenly wondered if her theme might seem a bit dour.

Before she could mention her ‘baking as therapy’ idea, Denise burst in with, ‘Ooh, before we get started, I must ask: how are the wedding preparations going? Not long to go now, lass. The village is getting rather excited about it, I must say. So lovely to have a happy event to look forward to.’

‘We can’t wait,’ added Charlotte – who was seated next to Eve – with a beaming smile.

‘What is it now, just over two weeks?’ asked Pamela.

‘It is indeed,’ Rachel managed a smile. There was a buzz of anticipation in the air. The wedding was so near, but there seemed to be so many hiccups along the way, and she hadn’t been able to let herself relax and enjoy the build-up to it at all – especially with the latest social media problems.

‘Ooh, can you remind us of the colour schemes for the flowers and dresses again? I want to make sure my mini cupcakes work well with it all. Can’t have any garish icing clashes,’ quizzed Christine.

‘Yes, now don’t forget, Rachel, that we are all more than happy to contribute to the wedding catering, so don’t you and Jill put too much pressure on yourselves. It’s all in hand. We’ll make sure there’s plenty for a real feast,’ added Denise, with Jan and Brenda nodding vigorously in agreement.

‘Absolutely,’ continued Christine. ‘All of us here have been planning our bakes, and Daniel’s on board too. We will be sure to have a wonderful array of goodies on offer. We’re bringing our cake stands to help out, too, so every table at the reception will have its own “Tower of Treats”.’ She grinned.

‘Aw thank you, guys.’ Rachel felt warmed by their support, and by the offers of help so freely given.

‘Well, the colours in the flowers are white, soft pinks and a touch of cornflower blue,’ advised Eve. ‘So, anything along those lines would be lovely, thank you.’

‘Oh yes, I’ve heard all about the flowers from Wendy,’ added Brenda. ‘They sound absolutely beautiful.’

‘Perfect,’ said Christine, ‘and some of the other WI members will be helping out too. I’ve even got a certain Vanessa offering to bake some mini cheese scones.’

‘Oh my, beware,’ jested Charlotte, ‘they might be laced with curry powder or something out of spite.’

‘Hah, I doubt it, actually, seeing as I’ve invited her,’ explained Rachel, ‘so, I’m sure she’ll make sure they are her best ever, as she’ll be there to listen in to all the comments.’