She felt a gut-churn of fear as she undid her seat belt and gazed at her cottage, her home. Take a deep breath. Steel yourself. Try and behave like normal. Ben could never find out.
Walking up the path. Opening the door. Amelia would be upstairs in bed asleep by now, for sure. So, she dropped down her handbag in the hall and gathered herself, before opening the sitting-room door and popping her head around.
‘Hi, Ben. I’m home.’
Yes, there was Ben lounging on the sofa with a packet of crisps to hand and an episode of Game of Thrones going on in full noisy battle. He paused it and turned to her with a small smile. ‘Hiya … go okay? You’re a bit earlier than I thought you’d be.’
‘Ah, yeah. It was fine … Some great paintings.’ She felt her cheeks burn. Hoped Ben didn’t notice.
‘So, did you get to meet any good contacts? For your own crafts?’
‘Oh … well, the people there just seemed a bit more highbrow, like owners of proper art galleries.’ The white lie spilled out.
‘Ah, right okay. Well, this episode is brilliant. You wanna watch it with me or catch up later?’ He didn’t seem keen to chat about her evening further, and that suited Eve just fine.
‘Yeah, I’ll come and watch. Just let me get a cuppa. Can I get you anything?’
‘Nah, I’m fine, thanks.’
Eve felt like a bloody stiff drink, never mind a cup of tea. But raiding the drinks cupboard for a large gin and tonic was not the answer.
‘Amelia been fine?’
‘Yeah, sound. We’ve been playing Connect 4. Can’t believe she beat me twice, too. I wasn’t even trying to lose.’ He was grinning.
He’d always been a good dad, Eve realised, even if the two of them had drifted in the wrong direction of late. Her mind drifted back to the day Amelia was born, all pink and scrawny with her battle cry of a hello to the world. Whilst Eve had lain on the hospital bed being stitched up, she had looked across at Ben gently holding their brand-new little girl and he’d smiled at Eve with tears in his eyes, saying how proud he was of both of them. Oh … family life suddenly seemed so precious.
‘Well, I won’t be a minute.’ Eve needed a moment to gather herself.
She stepped out into the welcome coolness of the hallway. She then clicked on the kettle in the galley kitchen, and couldn’t resist making her way upstairs to look in on her daughter. She opened the doorway just a fraction and peeped in. She looked so small and innocent, sleeping soundly there. Tears crowded Eve’s eyes as she gazed down. Stupid idiot, Eve. She brushed away the teardrops with the back of her hand and then went and stood in the bathroom for a few seconds, catching her reflection in the mirror, before splashing her eyes with cold water. Who was this woman?
She went back downstairs, trying to avoid the creaky steps, so as not to disturb Amelia. She took her mug through, taking a slow, steadying breath at the threshold to the lounge, and went to sit with her husband … the husband she had just betrayed.
34
The sweet smell of freshly cut hay wafted across the fields towards the yard of Primrose Farm. Rachel had heard the hum of the tractor from the Pantry, signalling that Tom was now at work on her meadows, having cut his own yesterday.
‘Is it okay if I bob out to see Tom and take him a bite of lunch?’ Rachel asked Jill. It was past one thirty now and had got slightly quieter at the Pantry.
‘Of course, all the tables are served here just now. Get yourself away.’
‘I’ll take a few things for him, and for Mark, too.’ Tom’s farmhand, Mark, would often help out on Tom’s farm at the busier times of year. So, Rachel made up a picnic lunch of ham sandwiches, with ham fresh from the local butcher, some buttered cheese scones, two chocolate cupcakes and a mini sticky toffee pudding, especially for Tom.
‘I’ll be back shortly. You know what it’s like at haymaking time. No one wants to stop for long. You have to crack on while it stays dry.’
Getting on to her quad, with her goodies secured in a small box, Rachel felt a familiar surge of excitement breaking through. She was reminded of this time last year, when Tom had offered to help her to mow her hay for the first time, and she’d done a picnic delivery. Back then, she’d wanted to thank him for his kindness and support, and a tasty lunch taken to him in the field had seemed a good idea. There had been a real connection between them that day, the realisation hitting that their friendship promised so much more. And a year on, here they were, about to be married.
She headed for the hum of the tractor. The saying ‘make hay while the sun shines’ was very true, and today was a scorcher. As she whizzed off, the breeze on the quad was wonderfully refreshing on such a warm day. Arms bare, shorts on, her farmer’s suntan apparent – with marked T-shirt-and-shorts lines. Ah, she’d so have to remember to get a spray tan done before the wedding – to match up the tops of her arms for her dress, and the tops of her legs and tummy for her new fancy lace lingerie!
Tom was cutting the headland – the outer area of the field – of the second field now. And by the sounds of it, Mark was ‘tedding’ – aerating the cut hay – in the first field. So, Primrose Farm’s two hay fields were well on the way. Tomorrow, she’d help with the rowing and baling, so fingers crossed that it stayed dry. It was always a good feeling getting the hay in, and knowing you had a good store of food for your animals over the winter. It looked as though it was going to be a decent yield this season too, which they’d need if there was another hard winter ahead.
But, for now, the sun was blasting, the bees were buzzing, and her fiancé was pulling to a halt. He looked surprised as he opened the door of his tractor cab and climbed out.
Rachel approached with a little trepidation. The sunshine had carried her over to the fields in good spirits, but she was suddenly all too aware of the storm clouds that had followed her and Tom around the last couple of weeks.
‘Lunch?’ she asked tentatively.
‘That sounds great, thanks.’ He strolled across.
Rachel started unloading the goods a little nervously. ‘There’s plenty here for Mark too, so give him a shout.’
‘Yeah, will do, I’ll phone him in a sec … Thank you for doing this, I really appreciate it. And hey, Rach, it’s good to see you.’
‘You too.’ She smiled, her agitation starting to evaporate.
‘Hey, have you realised where we are?’ His tone was soft.
‘On my farm …’
‘But where exactly?’
It was lovely to hear the hint of warmth in his voice. Rachel pulled a face, still unsure of what he was getting at.
‘Look, I’ve just been cutting the grass for our wedding venue.’
‘Oh, yes. We’re in just the spot.’
This was the field, nearest to the farmyard and the Pudding Pantry, where the tipi was going to be put up for the reception. The whole place would be transformed, with all the beautiful flowers they’d chosen, Eve’s crafts and bunting decorations, and their Towers of Pudding, and the absolutely gorgeous wedding cake that they had ordered – a three-tiered sponge and buttercream affair with the prettiest floral garnish. It was going to look stunningly ‘boho chic’, in a countryside ‘fairy-tale palace’ as Maisy was calling it. Rachel didn’t have the heart to correct her that it was just a tent.
It was wonderful to see that Tom was finally getting that buzz of anticipation too. But Rachel understood what a hard time he’d been having. It was only a week until the court hearing.
She didn’t want to spoil the moment but she wanted to remind him she was there for him too. ‘How are you feeling about Wednesday?’
‘Kind of resigned to getting it over with. I just want to know what’s going to happen now, and to move on. My solicitor’s doing all he can and there’s a couple of new developments he’s looking into, but all I can do is tell the truth and do my best … then it’s over to the judge.’
‘I can still come down to Newcastle with you if you’d like?’
‘No, honestly, th
is is between me and Caitlin. I’ll be fine.’
‘Okay.’
‘And Rach …’ Tom looked at her in earnest, before stroking the back of her hand gently. ‘Look, I’m really sorry if I’ve been a bit irritable these past few weeks. I-I’ve just found all this with the farm and Caitlin really tough.’
‘It’s okay. I understand, Tom. I’d have been furious and stressed-out too if it was my farm under threat. And … I’m sorry too, for perhaps not being as understanding as I might have been, and for not letting you know earlier about Jake coming to the wedding.’
‘Hey, no worries. We’ll work it all out somehow.’
‘Yeah, we will.’ Rachel smiled, feeling like a weight had been lifted.
They began tucking into the tasty food.
‘Suppose I’d better give young Mark a shout.’ He took his mobile out of his pocket.
‘Hah, yeah, before it all goes.’
Tom looked as if he hadn’t eaten in a week, the way it was being piled in … hmm, maybe he hadn’t had much of a square meal lately. He did look a bit thinner than normal. Perhaps it was all the recent stress. Oh well, she’d soon be there, living at the house with him; she could keep a better eye and look after him.
Though it would still be strange to be moving out of Primrose Farm, which would always have the most special place in her heart, it was beginning to feel as if things would work out. Maisy had even started to come around to the idea of the move over the past couple of days. She had chosen a new unicorn bed-linen set for her brand-new bedroom at Tom’s. He’d also promised that she could choose whatever shade of paint she wanted for her bedroom walls. Rachel had raised her eyebrows at that – knowing Maisy, it might well end up all the colours of the rainbow.
They were sitting on an uncut section of grass verge, close by the hedgerow, where bees buzzed in and out of the ox-eye daisies and buttercups swayed gently in the breeze. A butterfly fluttered past and then settled on a wild-flower head, a delicate blue cornflower. Rachel felt its significance, being her choice for her bouquet and bridal head garland. A smile spread over her lips. Summer, hazy sunshine, the glow of heat on your skin – being outside on the farm with nature doing its thing all around them was so calming.
‘Mark’s on his way,’ Tom started, as they heard the tractor in the other field pull to a stop. ‘But … just before he gets here, there’s one thing I really need to do.’
Tom pulled Rachel towards him, tenderly pressing his lips against hers. Making every little nerve in her body flicker to life. How did his kiss manage to do that to her every time? It was like lighting the touch paper of her senses. She responded warmly, passionately.
Evidently, they’d been kissing longer than anticipated, as they heard Mark’s gruff shout from the gateway. ‘Enough, you two – get a room, will you! I know you’re getting married soon, but really,’ he jested.
‘Sorry.’ Rachel couldn’t help but grin.
‘Well then, where’s the bait? That’s all I’m here for.’ He strolled towards them, swigging from a can of fizzy drink.
As Rachel handed him a selection of the food, his eyes lit up. ‘Great stuff. Cheers, Rach. I’ll take it back to the cab. Don’t want to get in the way of you two lovebirds here. No point being a spare wheel.’ His eyes smiled as he spoke, shaking his head at them as he left.
‘Hah, I’ll not be long, Mark. Back to it in five, yeah,’ Tom called after him. They needed to crack on while the weather stayed fine.
‘Yeah, no worries, mate.’
‘I’d better get back to help Mum in the Pantry, too. If there’ve been any new customers in, she’ll be run off her feet. Maybe catch you later?’
‘That would be great, but I’ve got a meeting with my accountant late afternoon, and then I’ll probably need to go over details of the paperwork a bit more, get it in my head.’
Perhaps he was organising his finances before this court case. It was there looming over them, even in the sunshine-filled meadow. ‘No worries, you do what you need to. I’ll catch you soon. Better love you and leave you, then.’
They managed another brief, but still all-over tingly kiss.
As Rachel mounted the quad, and despite the imminent court case, she felt happier than she had in a while. It felt as if they were a team again. She gave Tom a wave and was warmed through by his smile back. Their future was bright. They’d get through this legal battle, whatever the result, and then … well, they would have the party of their lives with their friends and families, celebrating their wedding and their love, in a gorgeously decorated tipi on a beautiful grassy hill at Primrose Farm. This hill. Yes, life felt good.
Back at the Pantry, she and Jill put in a manic hour, serving a table of eight hikers who had arrived for a late lunch, and there were orders for afternoon teas, pudding platters and more coming in. Rachel never minded a busy spell, though her feet might say otherwise: it was a sure sign that their business was growing well. Whilst there had been a dip after the initial spate of bad reviews, the response from her Pudding Clubbers and support from the local community had helped to rally things, and the negative comments hadn’t seemed to have put too many people off, thank god.
After three p.m., it began to calm a little, and the conversation behind the counter turned to the last-minute wedding details. Jill was chattering away: Had Rachel remembered to order the ‘thank you’ gifts for the bridesmaids? And, what about the table plan? Did they have final guest numbers yet?
So many people had said ‘yes’, it seemed as if the whole village – as well as a host of distant relatives – were coming. There were going to be well over a hundred and fifty people attending the reception. Gulp. Whilst they were trying to do this on a budget, it was hard in such a small community to miss out friends and long-held acquaintances, and this celebration was also a way of thanking them all for their help and support in the three years since the death of Rachel’s father. She really hoped Tom didn’t get hit by a huge pay-out to Caitlin. They’d have kept their wedding plans much smaller if they’d known all of that was going to crop up.
‘Oh,’ Jill was on a roll now. ‘And have you re-contacted the cake lady, to confirm the order and delivery?’
‘No, not yet. One for my to-do list.’
Despite their love of baking, they had decided to splash out and buy the wedding cake. With having so much to do themselves towards the buffet and the now-named ‘Towers of Treats’, as well as all the other tasks on the day itself, they had decided not to take on creating the wedding cake. So, Rachel and Jill had chosen a beautiful, three-tiered ‘naked’-style sponge cake with a delicate scraping of ivory buttercream around the sides. There were oh-so-pretty floral garnishes on all three layers to complement the wedding flowers. In the photos they’d seen, it looked stunningly simple. They’d had a tasting session several weeks back when they’d first visited the cake designer, and the vanilla sponge was delicious too. Rachel and Tom’s cake was to be baked and delivered to them the day before the wedding, so it would be super fresh.
‘Oh, and I’m going to call and see Granny this afternoon, too. Once we’ve closed up here.’ Rachel still had something most important to ask her.
‘Oh, can you take her some more eggs then, love? She phoned this morning – she’s been baking again and run out. Wasn’t feeling quite well enough to make the walk into town. I was going to pop in myself, but if you’re going, I might use the time to pop and get a birthday card I need to post, and pick up a few bits and bobs in the Co-op.’
‘Of course.’
Maisy was going for tea at Eve’s tonight to have a play date with Amelia after school, so that would all work out. Rachel suddenly remembered her latest conversation with Eve; when Rachel had asked how the exhibition night had gone, Eve had been quite cagey in answering. They’d texted in between times, in their own coded-style messages, Rachel wanting her buddy to know she was there for her if needed, but Eve was keeping something close to her chest. Hmm, when they were next on their own, sh
e’d prise some more details from her friend.
‘Cooee, Jill,’ Brenda popped her head out from the door of the deli. ‘I’m glad I’ve spotted you.’
It was later that afternoon and Jill was in town. She backtracked along the pavement to catch up with her friend.
‘How’s it going, Brenda? Lovely day, isn’t it?’
‘Aye, it is. So, how’s everything going with the wedding planning then?’
‘Yes, all fine. Keeping us busy. Very busy, in fact!’ Jill smiled.
‘So, it’s all going to plan? That’s good. Well, I’ll be baking along with the Pudding Club, but if there’s anything else I can help with, let me know.’
‘Yes, I will. Oh, it’s so near now, I’m really looking forward to it. Rachel is going to look a real picture in that beautiful dress. Did you know that Eve made it? Her best friend?’
At the mention of Eve, Brenda looked distinctly uncomfortable. ‘Yes …’ Her voice trailed off and she went a bit pale.
‘Brenda, are you all right?’
‘Yes, yes,’ she squeaked, looking down at her shoes.
‘You don’t seem okay, what’s the matter?’
‘Ah, yes … well … oh crikey, I don’t know if I should say anything really … It’s just been eating me up a bit, you see.’
Jill was suddenly all ears; she hoped to goodness this wasn’t bad news. ‘Well, you can’t start saying things like that and not tell me what’s on your mind, Brenda. Come on, spill.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure I should really. It’ll all blow over. Ah, it’ll be something and nothing.’ Brenda was trying hard to backtrack. She might be a bit gossipy, but the last thing she wanted to do was stir up trouble.
‘Come on, Brenda, it can’t be that bad. I’m your friend, you can tell me. A problem shared is a problem halved and all that!’
‘Oh blimey – well, as long as it stays between us two.’ Brenda was still reluctant to spill. ‘It’s just, well, I saw Eve … with another man. They were … kissing.’
Summer at Rachel's Pudding Pantry Page 19
