Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry. Caroline Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ and laughter, festive fun and full tummies. Gifts had been given, nothing too lavish but always much wanted – hmm, that might have been the year when she’d got her Jessie doll; the feisty, smart cowgirl from the Toy Story films. That was the only doll she’d ever asked for, preferring model tractors and farm toys in the main, and soon after, the real things. Jessie was still there upstairs in her room somewhere.

       Oh yes, Christmas at the farmhouse, she remembered the warmth of the Aga, and the warmth of their hearts: the family together.

      ‘Rachel … are you all right up there?’ Mum’s voice broke her reverie.

      ‘Ah … yes, fine.’

      Life had changed so very much, and Christmas had felt empty these past two years, as though they were just going through the motions. Her father’s death had cast a dark shadow over them all, but it was time to recapture some of that festive magic for her daughter Maisy’s sake – in fact, for all their sakes.

      Life had shifted in ways they could never have imagined, and just this summer they had transformed the derelict stone barn into a gorgeous little tearoom where puddings were very much their ‘thing’. Stepping inside the Pudding Pantry, you’d find a counter filled with a mouthwatering selection of Sticky Toffee, Chocolate, Ginger and steamed Syrup Puddings, crumbles galore, lusciously moist Carrot Cake, an Autumn Berry Pavlova, gluten-free banana cake and a selection of home-baked scones, not to mention crisp, buttery shortbreads and frosted cupcakes. Everything was made here at the farm. The Aga in the farmhouse kitchen was always on the go, with delightful baking aromas drifting over the farmyard – guaranteed to make your tummy rumble. They’d had a good start over the summer season, but business in the Pantry had started to slow worryingly during October. It was time to get themselves ready for the build-up to Christmas, and to try and boost trade. The fairy lights were a festive nod in the right direction.

      Once again up the ladder, at the far end of the barn now, with the lights all in place, Rachel looked across the hawthorn-hedged fields where their sheep and small herd of cattle grazed happily. The leaves on the trees in the nearby copse were drifting down on the breeze, leaving jumbled heaps of golds and copper beneath them, ready for Maisy to tumble through in her wellingtons with a giggle. Further into the distance, the high moorland hills of the Cheviots rose majestically, bracken bronzed with short grassy banks, rising to purple peaks. This view, this place, held so much of her heart.

      Job complete, Rachel climbed back down the ladder. She and Jill looked up, admiring their handiwork, the lights strung in loops along the old stone wall, just under the eaves.

      ‘Well, that’s added a bit of festive cheer, hasn’t it? It looks really pretty,’ commented her mum.

      ‘Yes, just a soft twinkle. I love it. It’ll look great as the dusk comes in.’

      ‘It’ll not be that long either, the way the evenings are pulling in these days.’

      Rachel glanced at her watch. It was nearly three o’clock. ‘Blimey, is that the time already? I need to go and fetch Maisy from the school bus.’

      Within minutes, Rachel had jogged down the farm track and was standing at the farm entrance, waiting for the minibus to arrive.

      She wasn’t the only one who was in a rush; Eve came dashing down the lane from her cottage, her dark hair tumbling from its ponytail, in a half-jog. ‘Blimey, I got so caught up in making wooden stars and hearts for Christmas decorations, I hadn’t realised the time. I was trying to come up with festive phrases to paint on them …’ She was panting between words, ‘All I’ve managed so far is “Ho Ho Ho!” and “Merry Christmas” – very original, not.’

      Eve was Rachel’s closest friend and craftsperson extraordinaire. She made the most gorgeous soft-toy felt animals and children’s knits, as well as turning her hand to woodwork, greetings cards, and much more. Crafting was her passion, and in addition to her online Etsy store, she kept a selection of gifts for sale at the Pantry, which had proven popular with their customers. With Christmas on the horizon, it was all go for her with the festive crafting.

      ‘Well, that’ll be keeping you busy. Hmm, the wooden hearts and stars sound pretty and they’d be ideal for the Pantry. Do you think you can make enough so we can have some to sell, too? I want to start making the tearooms really festive now. I’ve just been putting up the outside lights, and some Christmas crafts in there would look great, don’t you think? It is October, after all.’

      ‘Ooh yes, I can just picture the barn, with that gorgeous old dresser filled with Christmas gifts. I’m planning on making some pretty tealight holders and hand painting glass baubles as well. Oh, and, I’ll soon be making my Christmas knits and toys. So yes, of course, I’ll make some extra ones for your display.’

      ‘Gosh, Eve, I don’t know how you fit it all in. Superwoman! But that sounds brilliant.’

      With that, there came the low rumbling, more like grumbling, sound of an engine pulling up the hill, announcing the imminent arrival of the school minibus. And minutes later, after it pulled to a halt, out spilled Maisy closely followed by Amelia, Eve’s daughter and Maisy’s best friend. Maisy’s attire was typically half-mast, one sock up, one down, with her school coat trailing from her arm.

      ‘Hi, Mummy.’ She ran to Rachel, planting an affectionate kiss on her cheek and rounding off with a hug.

      ‘Hey, petal. Good day?’

      ‘Yes, we’ve been painting leaves and doing prints with them, and we’ve been learning all about squirrels and we’re helping to save the red ones.’

      ‘Oh, that sounds good. Did you know that where we live, here in Northumberland, is one of the few counties in England that still has red squirrels?’

      ‘Yes, Mrs Brown told us all about that – and they have four fingers and five toes, and their babies are called kittens.’

      ‘Well, I didn’t know that,’ said Eve.

      ‘And they have no teeth and no hair when they get borned,’ added Amelia.

      ‘Hah, they’ll look funny little things,’ said Maisy.

      ‘Hmm, yes I bet, all bald. Well, you two have learnt a lot today,’ said Rachel. ‘That’s great.’ It was nice that her daughter was happy and had settled in well in her first year at the local school. ‘Time for home then, Maisy?’

      ‘Yep. Has Grandma been baking?’ asked the little girl hopefully.

      ‘Oh yes, there’s bound to be a little something waiting at home for you.’ The smells wafting from the farmhouse kitchen had been delicious as she’d left, so there had definitely been plenty of goodies baking away in that Aga.

      Rachel had been covering in the Pantry this afternoon before taking a break to fix up the fairy lights; worryingly, the only custom had been an elderly lady and a couple who’d been out hiking in the hills.

      ‘Yippee!’

      They said their goodbyes to Eve and Amelia and set off up the farm track, walking past the field where their small herd of black, Aberdeen Angus cattle were out to pasture, making the most of the late-growing grass. Macduff, the sturdy bull, gave them a stare and one of his ladies mooed. The autumn had been mild so far, but who knew when that might change. Winter could be hard in the Cheviot Hills, as Rachel well knew. Soon СКАЧАТЬ