Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry. Caroline Roberts

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Название Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry
Автор произведения Caroline Roberts
Жанр Современная зарубежная литература
Серия
Издательство Современная зарубежная литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008327682



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I’m ready when you are, lass. Shall we head over to the farm?’

      ‘Of course. Mum’ll be wondering where we’ve got to otherwise.’

      ‘Right then, I’ll just pop my shoes on. I’ll need a seat for that. Here we go, just give me a second.’ She sat down stiffly on one of her kitchen chairs. Her body might be struggling, but her mind was still sharp as a tack. She was one of the few people who said it how it was. Rachel admired her for it, even if, at times, the truth was a bit too close for comfort.

      Rachel was towel-drying Maisy after her bath that evening when her mobile rang. She glanced at the caller ID: Jake. She gave an inward groan. How did he always manage to pick a bad time? She was trying to settle Maisy, ready for bedtime on a school night. But of course, Maisy’s dad would hardly be aware of her routine. Living so far away, he was never really there for her, was he? But, she supposed, at least he was phoning and his promised ‘weekly’ call could be hit and miss at the best of times.

      Rachel wrapped the towel tightly around her daughter to keep her warm, then answered with a gritting of her teeth. ‘Hi, Jake.’

      ‘Hey, there. Where’s my gorgeous girl? Is Maisy about?’

      ‘Ah, yes, but can you just give us five minutes and I’ll call you back? She’s just out of the bath and I need to dry her and pop her pyjamas on.’

      ‘Yeah, no worries – although ah, I’m going out in ten, but yeah, if you’re quick.’

       Hah, ever the doting father.

      ‘Daddy?’ Maisy asked, looking excited, bless her. Bloody hell, he did so little, yet Maisy couldn’t help that buzz of excitement at hearing from him. His last visit had been back in July, three months ago now, and there was a promised visit for August that had never materialised, much to Maisy’s disappointment. Just thinking about the consequences of that day still made Rachel mad.

      ‘Okay, I’ll call back straight away,’ answered Rachel tersely and she put down the phone. ‘Come on then, petal, let’s get those PJs on,’ her voice softened.

      In Maisy’s room a few minutes later, with her little girl now dressed in her nightclothes and sat expectantly on the bed, Rachel called Jake back. After saying a brief hello, she passed the phone over to her daughter. Having put the phone on loudspeaker, she sat quietly beside her, monitoring the conversation. Maisy was happily telling him all about school, and her gym club, and about Amelia coming for fireworks night next week with her mummy and daddy for hot dogs. Jake, in turn, said how busy he’d been at work, helping to build people’s houses.

      Rachel then heard him say that he was missing her. But hey, it was all too easy to say that from two hundred miles away, and then not bother to come and see her. And all too soon Jake said his goodbyes, with an excuse that he was about to go out.

      She watched her little girl’s sunny face begin to fall as the conversation rolled to a close. It was painful to watch.

      ‘Daddy’s got to go now,’ Maisy explained to Rachel. Her voice had dropped almost to a whisper. She passed the phone back across.

      ‘Okay, sweetheart.’ Rachel placed the mobile to her own ear. ‘Hi, it’s me.’ Her tone was cool.

      ‘Yeah, got to dash. Meeting a mate.’

      ‘Right … and don’t forget to call Maisy again next week. And, a little earlier might help, not right at bedtime; it can be unsettling for her.’

      ‘Okay. Slapped hands again.’ He still managed to sound like a stroppy teenager.

      Rachel didn’t even bother to respond to that comment.

      ‘See you then, Rach.’

      ‘Yeah. Bye, Jake.’ Rachel sighed as she switched off her mobile. Then she turned with an encouraging smile to her little girl. She couldn’t let her exasperation show in front of her. ‘Let’s get you all tucked up in bed then, petal. Shall we have a story?’

      ‘O-kay.’ Maisy sounded reluctant, and a frown had formed across her brow. And, just as Rachel had thought, here was her little girl unsettled and upset for bedtime.

      ‘Mummy, when’s Daddy coming to see me again?’ Maisy was hugging her soft toy sheep that Grandma Jill had given her several years ago – it was still a favourite.

      Rachel knew she could only be honest; false promises and lies would only hurt more in the long-run. ‘I don’t know, petal.’

      It broke Rachel’s heart to see the look of disappointment that fell across Maisy’s face. She gave her daughter a hug and a kiss, before going to the pine bookcase to find her Floss book, hoping the sheepdog’s story might help cheer her little girl up.

      This unpredictable relationship with her dad was so hard for Maisy, and for Rachel. How she wished she could protect her daughter, wrap her fragile heart up in cotton wool, and keep her safe from disappointment. But sometimes, even the love of a mother couldn’t do that.

       9

      It was mid-afternoon, the Northumberland sky softening to a watery blue-grey above the rolling hills. Rachel had just set Hamish, her stocky Scottish Texel ram, out in the field with the Texel ewes. He looked very pleased with himself, given this new freedom. With hormones running high within the flocks, the three Primrose Farm tups had been kept in the sheep shed for the past week to keep them out of mischief. Hamish was now more than happy to find himself in this large grassy area with his very own flock, and he was soon nestling up beside one of his ladies.

      The farmhand, Simon, had just set off on the quad to check how Edward and Chevy, the two Cheviot rams, were getting on higher up the valley in the other field, where they had been released earlier that morning. The two flocks had been purposely set well apart to avoid any interbreeding accidents.

      Rachel was just having a quick breather, gazing out across the beautiful valley, when her mobile vibrated in her pocket. ‘Hello?’

      ‘Rach, hey, you haven’t phoned me! It’s been days since you dropped Amelia off.’ It was Eve, and by the sounds of it, yet someone else irked by her absence. ‘So, I’ve made some cookies, anyhow. You must call in and have some while they’re fresh. You are at risk of becoming a farmyard recluse, hun. So, is it coffee-break time, yet?’

      ‘Ah … Well, I’ve just finished putting the tups out so I suppose it can be. It’ll have to be a quick one, mind, I still have lots to do.’

      ‘No problem, that’s great. I’ll see you soon then. And afterwards we can walk down and collect the girls from the school bus together.’

      Crikey, was it that time already? The days seemed to just fly by. ‘Okay, thanks, I’ll see you shortly.’

      It would be lovely to see Eve, Rachel realised, even if it was only for a snatched coffee break. It was weeks since the friends had met up properly. It wasn’t just Tom she hadn’t had much time to see lately.

      Fifteen minutes later, after a quick catch up with Simon who confirmed all was well with the sheep and rams, Rachel headed across to her friend’s cottage.

      ‘Come on in, I’m in the kitchen,’ Eve sang out. ‘It’s the only place with a seat not covered in wool or craft materials just now. It’s driving Ben nuts.’ Her friend carried on chatting loudly, as Rachel made her way down the narrow hallway. ‘I’m on a pre-Christmas craft-making bonanza.’

      ‘That sounds great – hard work though.’ Rachel popped her head around the kitchen door, to find her friend dressed in denim dungarees, with a bright flower-patterned long-sleeved tee, her auburn curly hair piled high in a ponytail. Eve was pouring water from the kettle into a cafetière. The aroma of fresh coffee filling the air. Rachel also caught a whiff of the cookies that were smelling divinely chocolatey