Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry. Caroline Roberts

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       7

      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 was sociable, and fun, yet they were still learning.

      A club … Something about that was starting to oil the cogs in Rachel’s mind. What was it that was nagging at her?

      ‘Wowser, I’ve got it!’ she blurted out.

      ‘What have you got, Mummy?’ Maisy looked at her quizzically.

      ‘A club. We need a Pudding Club!’ Oh yes, something to draw people out to the Pantry on those dull autumn and winter nights. Cosy puddings, in a cosy barn … They’d just invested the last of the summer earnings on installing that log-burning stove; it would be perfect in there on a chilly winter’s evening.

      ‘But we don’t make puddings at school, Mummy.’ Maisy had her hands on her hips and was frowning.

      ‘Not at school, petal. At our farm … in the Pudding Pantry.’

      ‘Oh, a club for making puddings? But doesn’t Grandma Jill do the making bit?’ Maisy looked nonplussed.

      ‘Yes, but other people could come along and eat puddings, and maybe learn how to make puddings, have a chat, make new friends, share recipes over a cup of tea.’ The ideas were flowing already.

      ‘Could they have cupcakes?’ Maisy grinned, catching on to the idea.

      ‘Yes, sometimes, why not? We could have Cupcake Week, Crumble Week, all sorts.’ Rachel’s mind was firing now.

      ‘Ooh, that sounds nice,’ said Amelia.

      ‘Can I come?’ Maisy was starting to warm to the suggestion.

      ‘Oh, well, I think it’ll most likely be in the evening, petal.’ Rachel imagined an evening might work better as the club would need to be something different from their usual tearoom opening hours. ‘So, it would be past your bedtime. But maybe you could come along to the first one, and then we’ll see.’

      ‘Okay.’

      ‘Could my mummy come?’ Amelia asked.

      ‘Yes, of course, if she wanted to. I’ll need to speak with Grandma Jill and see what she thinks about the club thing first, but yes I’ll let your mummy know all about it if we decide to go ahead.’

      They were back at the Land Rover now, the girls clambering in to the passenger side, ready to be belted up. Moss nudged a damp black nose over from the back to welcome them.

      Maisy patted his soft furry head. ‘Hi, Mossy.’

      Driving along the country roads, the girls chatted between themselves as Rachel’s mind whirred with this new Pudding Club idea. She couldn’t wait to discuss it with Jill. They were soon pulling up outside Amelia’s pretty stone cottage, just up the lane from Primrose Farm.

      Eve came out to thank her friend for collecting the girls, just as Rachel was helping Amelia down from the Jeep.

      ‘Hey, sweetie pie.’

      ‘Hi, Mummy.’

      Eve took Amelia by the hand, as her little girl announced, ‘Mummy, Rachel’s making a Pudding Club.’

      ‘Ooh, that sounds fun.’ Eve looked at Rachel, her brow quirked with interest.

      ‘You can go too, if you want,’ Amelia continued.

      ‘Still in the planning stage,’ Rachel explained. ‘Need to broach it with Mum, yet. So, I’ll tell you all about it soon. It was the girls here who gave me a brainwave.’

      ‘Good, good. Well, maybe we can catch up over a cup of coffee sometime. Seems ages since we’ve done that.’

      ‘That sounds good. And yeah, I’ve been a bit snowed under lately. The farm, the pressures with the Pudding Pantry …’

      ‘No worries, hun, I know life’s fraught at the moment. Same here, we can’t catch our breath, can we? But how’s the delicious Tom anyway?’ Eve asked with a cheeky twinkle in her eye. Eve had had a little crush on Tom for some time now, which she didn’t try to hide. It was just a source of light-hearted banter, and she was happily married to Ben after all, so Rachel was happy to go along with the joke.

      ‘He’s fine, thank you. Very good in fact.’

      ‘Not too good, I hope,’ Eve added with a cheeky grin.

      ‘Hah, I’m saying no more.’

      ‘Well, thanks for fetching Amelia. My turn next week. And let me know when you can drop by, I’ll make sure there’s some fresh brownies made.’

      ‘Perfect. Oh, and keep the night of Fifth November free. Me and Mum are planning a small fireworks party at the farm. Just something low-key.’

      ‘Sounds good. We don’t have any plans for Bonfire Night, so that’d be great. Thanks, hun. Catch you later, then.’

      ‘Cheers, Eve. Bye!’

      ‘Bye, Eve. Bye, Melia,’ chanted Maisy, happily waving from her seat in the Land Rover.

      Back at the farmhouse kitchen they were greeted by the warming smells of minced beef and onions. Jill was standing СКАЧАТЬ