Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry. Caroline Roberts
‘But, what about Maisy?’
‘Well, Maisy can come along too. The more the merrier. Hey, Maisy what do you think?’ asked Tom.
‘Yay! Where are we going?’ She was skipping across the room towards Tom already.
‘Well, why don’t you choose? I was thinking maybe a walk and then a lunch out, somewhere not too far away. So, what about the woods and a pub lunch, or there’s always the beach. What do you fancy, young lady?’
‘Can we take Moss?’
‘Yeah, why not, and Mabel can come too.’
‘Good. Well, we were doing the squirrels at school. We could go and see their houses in the woods.’
‘Sounds good to me. Rachel?’
Tom turned to face her, his dark brown eyes catching hers with a warmth that made her insides melt. She answered with a broad grin. A little break would be bliss, and with all her recent worries, it might be just what she needed. She felt a tad guilty leaving Mum to manage on her own with the tearoom, but Jill seemed happy to help, and Rachel could always offer to help her mum out another day to give her some time out too.
‘Thanks, Mum. I’ll make sure we’re not out too long.’
‘It’s no problem, now go off and enjoy yourselves.’
Half an hour later, they were strolling through the woods at Kirkton Burn. They meandered along a slightly muddy path beside a stream which was lined by beech, oak and ash trees. Leaves had been tossed down by the autumn breeze and swept into heaps of gold, copper and bronze. Burnished bracken tumbled in crisp feathery strands alongside.
‘Wheee!’ Maisy was off, kicking up the crisp piles of leaves with her wellington boots, revealing the soggier heaps that lay beneath. Musky, earthy smells filled the air. And the leaves fell once more around the three of them like autumn-gold confetti.
‘Hah, bet I can kick up more than you,’ said Tom, challenging Maisy with a grin.
And the three of them started a welly-boot-lifting leaf fight and even Moss and Mabel joined in, dashing around them in daft circles, barking, with Moss trying to catch the odd one in his mouth. Maisy was giggling, and Tom and Rachel leaned against each other, slightly out of breath, at the end of it. Rachel couldn’t ignore the burst of happiness spreading in her chest.
They began to walk once more, Maisy moving in close beside Tom and taking his hand. Rachel had to smile, watching them; they were so easy and natural together. Maisy looked up at the trees and asked Tom what a squirrel’s nest would look like.
‘Well, I know it’s called a drey,’ Tom answered, ‘and it’s made out of lots of twigs with moss and such like, and they’ll be up high in the branches. I think they’re about the size of a football.’
‘What about that one?’ Maisy was pointing up towards a fork in the branches.
Sure enough, there was indeed a nest in the tree above them. The three of them paused to look up.
‘Good spot, Maisy. It might well be, yes. But I’m no expert. It could be a squirrel’s nest, or perhaps a bird’s.’
‘Well, I think it’s a squirrel’s,’ proclaimed Maisy, with a smile. ‘I wonder if there are any babies in there.’
‘I doubt if there would be at this time of year. It’ll be getting a bit cold for them to have little ones. Most likely in the spring.’
‘Ah, okay.’ Her little girl was taking it all in.
Unlike her real and mostly absent father, Jake, having Maisy about didn’t seem to be a chore for Tom. It lifted Rachel’s spirits seeing the pair of them happy together. Tom would make a great dad. An image of her and Tom and Maisy as a family filtered unexpectedly into her mind. Dare she hope that could ever work out one day? But it was all too soon. A little daydream. She’d just enjoy the moment and see where life took them for now.
They enjoyed their pub lunch out at the Black Bull Inn in the little town of Kirkton on their way back. Rachel and Tom tucked into a meal of steak pie with vegetables, while Maisy had a tasty-looking homemade fish finger sandwich. By a cosy log fire, with a glass of red wine to hand and good company, Rachel hadn’t felt so content in a long while.
She felt so comfortable with Tom, and seeing Maisy so happy with him warmed her soul. But all too soon it was time to get back – she’d need to help Mum out at the Pantry before going to do the dusk checks on the animals and the farm. Tom had mentioned he had some chores to do too.
Back at Primrose Farm, they unbuckled their seat belts, ready to get out. Rachel really didn’t want the magic of the afternoon to end, but life and work had a way of taking over again. Maisy had already skipped down out of the jeep, and was heading into the barn to tell Jill all about her leaf walk in the woods – she’d brought home a few special ones in her coat pocket to show her grandma – and their lunch out, including her chocolate ice cream for pudding.
Tom leaned across the cab of the truck towards Rachel. His kiss was warm and tender and loving, and she so wished she could carry this on somewhere else, somewhere very private indeed. But that wasn’t to be. Not tonight.
Reluctantly, she drew away, her lips missing his already. ‘Thank you so much, Tom. It’s been a wonderful afternoon, and I know Maisy loved it too.’
‘You are very welcome. She’s a good kid.’
‘Thanks. I think so too.’ She gave a happy sigh. ‘Sorry, but I’d really better go on in now and help Mum.’
‘Yeah, I ought to get away too.’
Rachel hovered – this moment felt too precious to leave. Just one more brief kiss on the lips, a few more seconds together … Rachel moved back towards the scent of his aftershave, feeling the slight scratch of his beard where it was growing in, and meeting the soft fullness of his lips. She lingered there for a few more glorious seconds. Right, she really had better go now, or Maisy and Jill would be at the Pantry door wondering what was holding them up.
‘Bye,’ said Rachel, as she reluctantly pulled away, her voice a little husky.
‘See you soon.’
‘Yeah. See you.’
She stood and waved, watching his pickup drive off down the track. He gave a chirpy toot on the horn. She’d never felt like this before about a man and it was so good – but she couldn’t deny that frightened her too. She knew just how vulnerable life and relationships could be. Yes, she knew that very well.
Sunday had been yet another quiet day at the Pantry. Rachel was still at a loss as to how to get more customers over the threshold. Frosty mornings and November chills would soon be on their doorstep, and though December should bring some welcome pre-Christmas trade, it was likely that the next few weeks would remain slow. And, with that, the farm’s bank balance was on a very slippery slope.
The next day at four thirty on the dot, Rachel was standing outside the Kirkton First School gates, her breath misting in the chill air. With a burst of heavy wooden doors, and a blast of chatter, out came the little ones in a rush across the playground, still wearing their gym gear with their coats mostly half-mast over the top.
Suddenly, there was Maisy, with a bounce of blonde curls, dashing forward and waving. ‘Aw, that was so good, Mummy. I love Gym Club. We did tumbles with music today.’
‘It was fun,’ added Amelia, who was close on Maisy’s heels, with a sunny grin. Rachel was collecting the two of them today.
This was their second week attending, and they were so happy with their new after-school club activity. The idea of going to a club seemed different than classroom work somehow. It