Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry. Caroline Roberts

      ‘And don’t be afraid to ask for help, pet. Me and your mum are always happy to help out with Maisy, and where we can on the farm. Don’t pile too much on yourself, you’re not Wonder Woman.’

      ‘Hah,’ Rachel smiled. ‘I rather hoped I might be. It’d mean I could get things done a bit quicker. And she does wear one hell of an outfit,’ Rachel quipped.

      ‘Well, 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.