‘Cheers, that looks great. So, how much do I owe you?’
‘Oh …’ Jill floundered. ‘Well, I don’t feel we can charge you after all your help, Tom.’
‘Nope, I insist. How can I keep coming back if you won’t take payment? It’s a business, so I’d like to start on the right footing.’
‘Well, okay,’ conceded Jill. ‘That’ll be nine pounds ninety then, please, with the sticky toffee in too.’
He settled up, took a sip of his coffee, then took a table and sat scanning the local newspaper that Rachel had left out. He looked up and added, ‘And it tastes even better,’ giving a thumbs up.
After a short while, Tom came across to the counter to collect the sticky toffee pud to take home.
‘That’s supper sorted,’ he joked.
‘Perfect. Who needs a main course when you can have pudding?!’ said Rachel.
‘Absolutely. That should be the official mantra of the Pudding Pantry! Well, that’s me off to round up the sheep now. I’ll see you about, yeah.’ He held her gaze for a second or two, as though about to say something else, but then seemed to think better of it.
‘Yeah, see you soon.’ And she realised just how much she did want to see him again soon. He’d been in her thoughts so much more lately, and in a different way – maybe it was the effect of the Poldark incident, as she had named it. But taking that step further, organising a meet-up or, dare she suggest it, ‘a date’, seemed somehow wrong. Who knew what Tom was thinking, and she might just embarrass herself. They were far better off as they were, as they had always been: as friends and neighbours. She needed to keep her mind on the job, the farm, their fledgling Pudding Pantry business, without letting herself get caught up in fanciful, romantic ideas – which would probably just end in complete disaster.
Yes, that would definitely be for the best. But as Tom turned his back on her, she couldn’t help but wish he’d turn around again, and find an excuse to stay.
‘Trust Jake to be late,’ Rachel said, simmering with frustration. She and Jill were now back at the farmhouse, having locked up the pantry for the day. ‘Maisy’ll be getting hungry by now.’ They usually had their supper soon after five.
‘I thought I’d make us some ham and fried eggs with a few sauté potatoes. There was quite a bit of ham left over today.’
‘Okay, that sounds nice. Although I don’t know if I can even eat, Mum, I feel like my stomach’s churning.’
‘Well don’t worry, we’ll wait a bit yet. Give Maisy a chance to get in and tell us all about her day trip. It’ll have been a big day for her, I’m sure,’ said Jill reassuringly.
‘Yes, I wonder how she’s coped with it all? I do hope Jake’s been good with her.’
‘Ah, I’m sure he’ll have muddled through somehow. He’s probably spoilt her rotten.’
‘Knowing her wily ways, she’ll have diverted him to a gift shop at some point.’
Ten more minutes ticked by, then fifteen, twenty. Rachel was clockwatching anxiously. Still no Maisy or Jake. She tried his mobile, no answer on that. Damn it, she couldn’t help but worry. Jill tried to reassure her that they’d be back any minute, that Jake had probably just lost track of the time, but Rachel could tell her mum was getting a bit nervous too.
Finally, there was the hum of a vehicle coming up the farm track, the crunch of tyres on the gravel outside. Rachel was up and out of her seat at the kitchen table like a shot. It was the grey van, thank heavens, with Jake climbing out of it.
Rachel flew out of the porch door. ‘Where the hell have you been? You said you’d be back by five o’clock! Maisy’s missed her tea time and everything.’ Rachel was wound up like a spring by this point.
‘Hey, no need to stress, it’s fine. We’ve had fish and chips for supper. We stopped off at Seahouses on the way back.’ He sounded cool as a cucumber.
‘And you didn’t think to call, or that I might be worried? Jake, it’s not fine. I had no idea where you were or if anything was wrong.’ His laissez-faire attitude to life was doing her head in. It didn’t work like that once you had kids.
Maisy got out of the van. She stood between them, her shoulders hunched. Rachel realised she’d better tone things down a bit. It wasn’t Maisy’s fault, after all. ‘Well, at least you’re back now.’
Maisy’s hair was damp and her T-shirt even damper, as though the water from the hair on her shoulders had soaked in. Hadn’t he even thought to dry it properly? Rachel clenched her fists and it took a considerable effort to stop herself from having another go.
Jake noted Rachel’s stormy gaze. ‘We’ve been swimming. Well, splashing about really. It’s been fun, hasn’t it, Maiz?’
Maisy nodded. Rachel could see that her hair hadn’t been brushed or anything after being in the sea. It’d take ages to get the knots out now, as it was thick and wavy. Rachel would have to wash it before bed and use loads of conditioner. She tried to keep her voice calm, however, for her little girl’s sake. ‘So, have you had a good time then, Maisy?’
‘Yes, really good. We’ve had ice cream and chips and look …’ She pulled out a new soft-toy puffin from her bag.
He was very cute. So, the gift shop ploy had obviously materialised.
‘He’s lovely, have you got a name for him yet?’
‘Puffy.’
‘Okay, good name for a puffin.’
For a brief moment, Rachel wondered whether to ask Jake in, merely out of politeness, as they were standing out on the farmhouse step, but she was still fuming that he hadn’t even thought to call. Also, it was already getting late to get Maisy settled for a bath and bed. Another late night wouldn’t be a good thing for her. Though she seemed okay, Rachel could spot the ‘I’m tired but really pretending not to be’ a mile off.
‘Right then,’ Rachel announced, as much to Jake as Maisy. ‘Time to get you in ready for bath and bed.’
‘Aw …’
‘Come on, you’ve had a busy day and it’s time to let Jake go and have a rest too.’
‘Are you coming back tomorrow?’ she asked, looking up at him. There was a hint of anxiety in her voice, announcing her worry that this might be it, her Daddy-time over.
‘Yeah, of course, sweetheart. I’ll pop in and see you. In the afternoon some time, okay?’ He looked at Rachel to check, who gave a small nod. She was beginning to calm down a little now she knew that Maisy was safely home.
‘Yes, that’s fine,’ Rachel said. It sounded more like a quick visit to the farm than a full outing this time. Maybe a whole day had worn his fathering skills down already, Rachel mused. And there must only be a few more days of his holidays left anyhow.
Jill appeared at the step. ‘Hi Maisy, had fun at the beach? Hello, Jake,’ she added, coolly.
‘Yes, Grandma, I’ve been in the sea and for ice creams, and this is Puffy.’ She was heading into the farmhouse now, holding out her new toy proudly.
‘See ya, Maiz.’ Jake smiled at her.
‘By-ye.’
‘What do you say, Maisy? For all your treats and your day out?’ Rachel reminded her.
‘Thank you.’
‘Good girl.’
Maisy took Grandma Jill’s hand and went on inside. The tiredness evidently creeping up on her already. Rachel knew she must be on the wave of an emotional rollercoaster, seeing her dad so out of the blue and starting to get to know him, bless her.
‘She’s been a good girl for me,’ Jake commented.
‘Good. Yes, she’s generally well-behaved. They all have their moments, mind.’
‘Yeah, well … you’ve done a good job with her, Rach.’ Jake looked serious and appeared a little emotional. Had he finally realised what he’d been missing out on?
‘Oh …’ Well that took the steam out of her anger. She’d fully intended on launching into a more vicious rant now that Maisy was out of earshot, but – ever the charmer – Jake had managed to placate her. ‘Well, thanks … I appreciate that. And look, if you have her again, for goodness sake ri
ng me if you’re going to be late. It’s a real worry, you know.’
‘Yeah, I get that. I think we must have been out of signal down on the beach, but yeah … okay.’
‘So, you’re coming back tomorrow?’
‘Yep, but not till the afternoon. I’m looking at a motorbike for sale up in the Borders. Been after one for a while – looks a cracker, a Ducati, second-hand. So, it’ll be afternoon by the time I’m back. Let Maisy know that it’ll be later, won’t you?’
‘Yes, I will.’ Hah, so he had money to buy a bloody motorbike then, but not for child support. He obviously hadn’t changed that much.
‘See ya, then.’
‘Bye, Jake.’
Jake had come back the next afternoon as promised, and taken Maisy down to Kirkton to play in the park and have an ice cream. He was back at 5 p.m. prompt. He said he was heading back down south the next day, and swore to keep in touch more regularly, promising he’d phone Maisy once a week at least. Maisy seemed happy with that idea, and that seemed a good compromise for Rachel too.
She just hoped he’d live up to his promises, she’d heard them all before. Even if the intention was there, a sense of spontaneity and recklessness seemed to take over with Jake; he’d selfishly get caught up in whatever circumstances he’d stumbled into at the time. Maisy’s face was troubled as she said her goodbyes, bless her. They watched his grey van head off – with his new motorbike in the back – and Rachel’s heart felt so much for her little girl. Not having your dad around was a tough thing, whatever the circumstances.
Chapter 31
A SNAKE IN THE GRASS
A week later, the day dawned bright and sunny on Primrose Farm. It was one of those idyllic summer days in the Cheviot Hills that looked like it had been drawn from a postcard – the sky was a deep, vibrant blue, in contrast with the verdant green fields below. Rachel was struggling a little in the heat, but she needed to move the sheep down to the Low Field, where she’d set up an outdoor ‘race’. She had to be ready for the next day as Simon was coming in to herd them through for worming and to check their hooves.
She set off with Moss on the quad and started in the furthest field, Hetton Ridge. The ground was rougher here with the odd gorse bush as it was nearing the moorland hills. Moss was a great worker and happily responded to her commands of ‘Away’ and ‘Come by.’ He was an old hand at this, having been well-trained by her father. He also knew the lie of the land on the farm. A couple of times he disappeared out of sight amongst the gorse and rocky outcrops, but he’d reappear again, steering some errant sheep back towards the flock. Rachel spotted another small group of ewes and lambs further up the rise and sent him up for them.
Shortly afterwards she heard an almighty yelp. Moss seemed to take a long time in coming back and, when he did, he was limping. Oh no, what had he done? Had there been something sharp in the ground up there?
‘Hey Moss, what’s up boy?’ He reached the quad, but didn’t seem right at all. Rachel knelt to investigate the damage. She checked the pads of his feet and couldn’t see any sharp thorns or stones, which were often the culprits, and the leg itself didn’t seem out of line or broken. He was whimpering though and seemed in real discomfort.
‘Is it a sprain, lad? Did you twist it or something?’ She helped him up to the quad; it was unusual that he didn’t try to jump. He was heavy, but she managed to get him in the back. The sheep were beginning to drift off again, but Rachel decided to call it a day for now and take Moss back to the farmhouse. It was more important that she check his leg more thoroughly and let him rest it in his kennel. Maybe he’d trodden on a sharp stone and bruised it, or twisted it slightly. If only he could tell her what was wrong. It’d probably heal quickly with a bit of time out.
She went the quickest route by the track that adjoined her and Tom’s farms, rather than opening and closing the various field gates. As she turned a bend, she spotted Tom’s quad heading towards her.
‘Hey,’ he said, as he pulled up at the side of her.
‘Hi, Tom.’
‘Everything all right?’
‘Actually no. I think poor Moss has hurt his paw, or leg. He seems a bit lame, reckon he’s trod on something whilst herding the sheep.’
Moss was whimpering loudly in the back, as if to say ‘It really hurts.’
‘Can I take a look?’
‘Yeah, of course. I’ve checked but can’t see anything.’
‘Where were you?’
‘Hetton Ridge.’
‘Near the moorland, yeah?’
‘Yeah.’
He moved to the dog, with soothing words. ‘It’s okay, boy. Let’s check you out.’ He took the paw extremely gently and examined it closely and carefully. Moss let out a deeper whimper, as he reached a certain part of the lower leg.
‘Ah … here. Now I see. Okay Rachel, we need to get him to a vet straight away. It’s an adder bite. Here, look.’
And there on Moss’s foreleg were the tell-tale two puncture wounds, which were now beginning to darken and swell.
‘Right, jump on the back with him and keep him still. We need to restrict his movement to stop the venom from spreading. I’ll take you down to my jeep and we’ll get to the Kirkton vet, right away.’
‘Oh my God, I hadn’t seen.’ Rachel felt awful that she’d missed it. ‘I hadn’t even thought.’ She couldn’t let anything happen to Moss, not Dad’s dog. He was such a wonderful boy, he was in his prime.
‘Hey, it’s all right.’ Tom saw how concerned she was. ‘I only know as I had a dog bitten once. It’s a sunny day and the adders bask, especially up near the moorland. Don’t worry, if we get him to the vets quickly, he should be fine.’
Once they’d transferred to the pick-up, keeping Moss as still as they could with Rachel still holding him, Tom made a quick call to the vets to let them know they were on the way with an adder-bitten dog, so they could get prepared. The sooner you acted the better in these cases.
Rachel was so pleased she’d met Tom on the track by chance; it might have been much later when she’d spotted the wound herself, and more damage could have been done. She tried to stay calm, soothing Moss with gentle words and stroking his soft silky head.
They soon arrived at the vets, Rachel carrying Moss in. God, he was getting heavy in her arms. The vet had an examination room ready, and they went straight in. The vet took a quick look and then administered anti-venom immediately and gave Moss some pain relief.
‘How long ago was he bitten?’
‘Only about fifteen minutes,’ Rachel answered.
‘Ah, that’s good. You’ve acted fast and done the right things for him.’
Thanks to Tom, Rachel thought, feeling guilty that it could have been so much worse.
‘Okay, so we’ll keep him here just now, keep a close eye on him and see how he reacts. Give it a few hours, and I’m pretty sure he’ll be able to come home either early this evening or in the morning.’
‘Will he recover okay? What about his leg?’ Rachel was worried there might be long-term damage.
‘Most dogs recover fully in around five days, so no, no long-term damage is likely. He looks a fit and healthy dog otherwise, so that’ll go in his favour.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. Give us a call at, say, five o’clock and we’ll let you know how he’s getting on.’
‘Will do.’
They headed back, Rachel feeling slightly shaken, even though the worst seemed over. She was quiet in the passenger seat of the jeep.
‘He’ll be okay, you know,’ Tom said reassuringly.
‘I just feel dreadful that I hadn’t seen it.’
‘It would have been easy to miss, Rachel. It’s been a bit of a shock for you too, I bet. Do you want to come in for a coffee?’ They were nearly back at Tom’s farm, where she’d left the quad.
‘Yes, that’d be good, thanks. I’ll give Mum a quick ring first and explain what’s been happening. She’ll be wondering where on earth
I’ve disappeared to.’ And Rachel knew all too well that that in itself would bring back bad memories.
Sat in Tom’s kitchen, with mugs of steaming coffee, they chatted for a while. She’d been in the kitchen as a girl, but it was far more modern now with light-oak units and chrome fittings. Rachel remembered being invited here for summer barbecues along with other families from the farming community, sat outside in the garden on straw bales for seats, helping herself to hotdogs and Coca-Cola, watching the teenage Tom whizz around the farmyard on his quad, and there were Christmas-time drinks right here in the cosy farmhouse kitchen served with mince pies, chocolate cake and cocoa for the children.
‘Well, at least it seems like he’s going to be okay,’ said Rachel, starting to relax knowing that Moss was being taken care of. ‘So, which dog of yours was bitten?’ she continued.
‘Ah, it was a while back. It was Caitlin’s dog, actually. A spaniel. He ended up with a nasty lesion on his side. We hadn’t seen it straight away, he just seemed a bit off. So it had taken a bit of a hold by the time we got him to the vets and realised what it was, and then the wound got infected. He pulled through okay, but it left a scar … It was yet another reason for her to hate the countryside.’
Caitlin was Tom’s ex-wife. From what Rachel had heard in the past, it sounded as though things had become difficult between them, though Tom had never talked with Rachel directly about his relationship before.
‘Country life didn’t suit her,’ Tom said, beginning to open up. ‘She’d been brought up in Edinburgh, was a city girl at heart. We thought our love could counter that, getting married, but it wasn’t enough in the long term. She grew to resent this life, me … farming’s not a job you can just leave behind at five o’clock and weekends, is it?’
‘Nope, no way.’
‘And I didn’t want to leave it, or my life here, though I did try early on. It’s just a part of who I am … Anyway, I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this … It’s all over and done with now.’
‘It’s all right, I don’t mind you talking.’ Rachel was the queen of disastrous relationships, who was she to judge? And it was nice that Tom felt he could be honest with her. She’d always had the impression that Tom was quite a closed book, a little guarded with his emotions, and he generally kept his home life private.
Rachel's Pudding Pantry Page 21
