Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry. Caroline Roberts
about it, then took up the spot on the rug in front of Rachel and curled up, letting Rachel stroke the short silky fur of her head. Her short tail thumped contentedly in answer.
There were a few quiet moments, where they lay listening to the crackle of the fire. It felt peaceful there, just being together. A world of two … and a terrier. Rachel hadn’t imagined it could ever be this magical, this close. Her longest relationship having been with Jake, Maisy’s father, at aged seventeen into eighteen. They had been so young, naïve, experiencing snatched moments of sex in the back of Jake’s car or at his parents’ house. It now seemed childish, experimental, as if they hadn’t known each other at all.
This was so much more … heartfelt, body and soul.
Maybe it was because it was so wonderful, so special, that Rachel’s vulnerabilities hit home. She suddenly pictured Tom there with his ex. Had they ever made love here by the fire – they’d lived in this very house for several years, after all? Had he felt all this before? He must have really loved Caitlin once to have married her. Rachel felt a strange twinge of envy for Tom’s ex-wife, for what the two of them had shared before, even though it had been over for years now.
‘Tom … what happened with Caitlin? How did it all go wrong?’
‘Ah, let’s not talk about that now, Rachel. This is so nice, let’s not think about anything else …’ He brushed the question off, seeming a little ruffled.
‘Oh.’ Well, she sure knew how to kill the atmosphere.
‘Look, we weren’t right for each other. It was never going to last,’ he added, matter-of-factly.
That made Rachel suddenly feel sad, lying there with Tom’s arm around her. Could they go wrong too? Is that the way things went? But no; she reminded herself of her parent’s long marriage, they had been happy … up until that last fateful day. She turned her thoughts to Eve and Ben and their secure little family unit. It didn’t always have to go wrong.
‘And Rachel,’ Tom spoke gently, ‘it wasn’t like this.’
She rolled over to face him and they shared a tender kiss. As she finally pulled away, Rachel gave a fragile smile. Oh my, how would it feel not to have him beside her?
The evening passed all too soon; drinking red wine, naked by the fire, with this gorgeous man she had fallen in love with.
Still wearing only her watch, Rachel glanced at her wrist to see that it was already past ten thirty.
Reluctantly, she sat up and began gathering her clothes. ‘Tom, I’m going to have to go. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to take advantage of Mum’s goodwill and babysitting services. And I like to be there in the morning for Maisy, getting her up and ready for school.’ There wasn’t only herself to think of in all this.
‘It’s okay, I understand.’ He brushed Rachel’s cheek fondly with his fingertips. ‘You’re like the three musketeers,’ he said smiling. ‘I take on one, I take you all on.’ His voice had assumed a daft French twang.
‘Exactly,’ she beamed. ‘Thank you,’ she added softly, before kissing him affectionately on the nose.
‘Though, I’m sure we could just snatch five more minutes …’ He gave a sexy grin, before adding, ‘I can achieve a hell of a lot in five minutes.’
‘I’m sure you can.’ She laughed. ‘Hmm, well, in that case …’
And they were soon back together fireside, in a tumble of arms, legs, lips and hot kisses.
Rachel drove back to Primrose Farm through the indigo dark of the winding lane, her heart still full from their sensual night, her skin still warm from Tom’s touch.
The lights were on downstairs and, as she opened the farmhouse door, there was the sound of the radio on in the kitchen. Jill was at the kitchen work surface with a pinafore over her dressing gown.
‘Hello, love, did you have a nice time?’
‘Yes, thanks.’ Rachel still, rather embarrassingly, felt like she was basking in the afterglow. ‘Are you still baking, Mum?’ Rachel added, surprised to see the late-night activity in the kitchen.
‘Oh, I’ve just about finished, love. And don’t worry, I haven’t been here all night. I sat and watched my programme after supper, had a bath, and then I was flicking through the old Baking Bible and found this recipe of my Great-Auntie Edna’s. I was looking for some warming winter puds for the chillier months, and this seemed perfect. Look, she’s even done a little drawing, though I must say those sultanas in the pudding look very like rabbit droppings.’
They both giggled.
The finished article, stood on the side, did indeed look and smell wonderful; a baked sponge in a rectangular dish, with a rich caramel sauce over it. ‘Mmm, that looks great. What is it?’
‘Sultana and butterscotch pudding.’
‘Ooh, delightful.’
The Baking Bible was laid open on the side next to the mixer. There were at least four generations of puddings and bakes recorded there, with the earliest being penned by Jill’s own grandmother, Alice. A legacy of bakes and cakes that Jill had brought with her, and since added to, when she had married Dad back in the mid-Eighties and moved into the farmhouse.
‘I think I’ll put it on as a special tomorrow.’
‘Ideal! I can’t wait to taste it.’
‘Well then, maybe we can spoon out a little portion from the edge to try?’
‘Oh yes, go on then. We need to maintain quality control, after all,’ Rachel grinned.
Jill scooped some out into a small bowl, spooning over a little of the syrupy caramel-coloured sauce.
Lifting her spoon to her mouth, Rachel’s taste buds exploded happily. ‘Oh my, that’s going to be a hit. The sponge is so light and the sauce is naughty but very nice.’
‘Aw, thanks, love.’ Her mum beamed proudly.
Rachel loved seeing her mum in good spirits, and farmhouse-kitchen baking was most definitely Jill’s happy place. The downside was that Jill was still making nearly as much food as in the busier summer months, ‘just in case’, and they were starting to waste some now. Rachel knew she should really ask her mum to ease off on the baking, warn her that they couldn’t afford to throw things away now that it was quieter. But looking at her mother, happy there in the kitchen, knowing that baking helped to fill a loneliness that Rachel still shared … well, she bit her tongue, though she knew she’d have to say something if things didn’t turn around soon. In the meanwhile, their friends, family and the postman were benefitting from some rather scrumptious giveaways for now.
Rachel resolved that she would have to put her mind to drumming up some more business, somehow. Fingers crossed, things would turn around for Primrose Farm soon.
She smiled at her mum over the steam of the delicious pudding, and nudged closer at the kitchen side to give her hand a squeeze. ‘They’re a winner every time, Mum.’
The Third Bake of Christmas
Chocolate Cupcakes with the Cutest of Faces – Maisy’s Festive Favourite
Jill’s Chocolate Reindeer Cupcakes:
100g plain flour
20g cocoa powder
140g caster sugar
1 ½ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
40g butter
120ml whole milk
1 egg
To decorate: Chocolate buttercream, large milk chocolate