Poppy's Recipe for Life: Treat yourself to the gloriously uplifting new book from the Sunday Times bestselling author!

by Heidi Swain

  ‘Assuming it is him,’ I whispered, ‘you know, I think I am.’

  I took my empty glass with me to make it look as if I was actually heading for the bar, and the subterfuge would have worked had Lou not noisily scraped back her chair on the wooden floor and drawn his attention far sooner than I was ready to receive it. It was definitely him. His eyes met mine before I had made it even halfway across the tiny room and I raised my arm in an awkward sort of salute.

  ‘Hi,’ I croaked, knowing it was impossible to veer off and ignore him now.

  He reluctantly raised his hand in response and then returned his attention to the paper. Clearly, he had no such qualms about ignoring me.

  ‘Hey, Jacob,’ I said as I got nearer, trying to sound casual. ‘I thought it was you. How are you?’

  Nothing.

  ‘I see you’re familiar with the best pub this part of Norwich has to offer.’

  ‘It’s certainly the smallest,’ he said without looking up.

  I wasn’t sure if he was stating a fact or criticising the place. Either way he still didn’t sound much happier.

  ‘And I can also see that you’ve got the leaflet that Lisa posted through the door earlier today.’

  I couldn’t help but admire her dogged determination. The leaflet was an invitation to the Easter garden party that was happening on Saturday, as well as a reminder that we would be looking through the competition paperwork. I hoped the fact that Jacob had bought it with him to The Dragon was perhaps an indicator that he was at least a little interested in joining us at the party and taking a look around.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, giving it a cursory glance, ‘I meant to put it in the recycling bin as I walked by but I forgot.’

  Not even the slightest bit interested in coming along then.

  ‘Right.’ I swallowed. ‘I see.’

  I looked back at Lou, who was waving her hands about, urging me on, and Colin, who was shaking his head and shrugging. He had ‘lost cause’ written all over his face and I couldn’t help but think that out of the two of them he was right.

  ‘Well,’ I said, licking my lips before giving it one last attempt, ‘it would be lovely to see you there. I know you said you don’t want to get involved with it—’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘—but the garden took a lot of work to get up and running and entering the competition means a lot to us all, so if you do happen to be about on Saturday and could just put in an appearance for even a couple of minutes, that would be great.’

  His head snapped up and he stared at me from under his floppy dark fringe. Just for a second, I thought he was going to either shout at me or get up and leave, but he did neither.

  ‘If I say I’ll come will you leave me alone?’ he asked.

  He didn’t say it quietly and I was horribly aware that the folk closest to us were listening. I hadn’t realised my interruption had been such an unwelcome intrusion or would warrant such a terse response.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. My voice came out in a tiny squeak and my face was burning bright.

  I didn’t think I’d ever felt so embarrassed. I could feel sweat uncomfortably prickling the back of my neck. It had been my intention to open up a little dialogue, not subject myself to abject humiliation. The guy at the next table sniggered and I looked Jacob in the eye, bitterly regretting that I had felt even an ounce of sympathy for him when we first met.

  ‘Yes,’ I said again, a little more confidently this time. ‘If you promise to come over, I will definitely leave you alone.’

  ‘I don’t do promises,’ he muttered, turning his attention back to his paper.

  ‘Well,’ I said, addressing his bent head, ‘I’ll leave you alone anyway.’

  Quite possibly for good, but I didn’t say that out loud.

  Chapter 5

  ‘Good morning!’ called a voice from an upstairs window as I walked past Neil and Mark’s place early on Saturday morning. I was on my way to help set up for the Easter party.

  ‘Are you not working today, Poppy?’

  It was Neil.

  ‘I’m still on holiday,’ I called back. ‘So I’m off to the garden.’

  ‘In that case, hang on a sec and I’ll come over with you. You’ll need the code for the gate, unless you’ve got it already?’

  ‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I forgot all about that.’

  The garden at Prosperous Place was open to all Nightingale Square residents but the house was also home to Kate, Luke, Jasmine and baby Abigail, so there had to be some security in place. Norwich was in no way a crime hotspot, but the house and grounds were private property nonetheless.

  ‘Chilly, isn’t it?’ said Neil as he locked his own front door and frowned up at the cloud-heavy sky.

  ‘It’s supposed to clear later,’ I told him, ‘according to the local report anyway.’

  ‘Well, as long as it’s dry,’ he said, pulling a jumper over his head, ‘that’s all we’re really bothered about. Luke and Kate have offered us the use of their kitchen if it rains, but it’s not quite the same, is it?’

  ‘No,’ I agreed, ‘not really.’

  I would have been sorely disappointed if wet weather had ruined my first garden gathering as a bona fide resident.

  ‘Is Mark at work already?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, he’s been gone for hours, but Blossom has given him the afternoon off so he’ll be back in time for the lunch.’

  I was pleased to hear he still had a job to go to. Blossom must have the patience of a saint to put up with him and his antics. Perhaps I wasn’t the only advocate of living life to the full in the neighbourhood. I only hoped I didn’t induce as many eye-rolls from our mutual neighbours, friends and colleagues as Mark managed to elicit.

  ‘Carole and Graham are getting on already,’ said Neil, checking the road before we crossed, ‘and this,’ he said, pointing to the keypad that was almost completely hidden under a tangle of scrambling ivy next to the garden gate, ‘is the code to get in.’

  I watched as he punched in the sequence of numbers and wondered how many failed attempts it would take until I remembered it.

  ‘Stick it in your phone contacts somewhere,’ Neil advised. ‘That’s what I did until I knew it off by heart.’

  The grounds were every bit as beautiful as I remembered. Thanks to the late winter and its snowy onslaught a few things were a little behind, but they would soon catch up. The drifts of daffodils were in full bloom, though, and swayed in time to some unheard melody in the gentle breeze.

  The walled garden was a hive of activity and the addition of every kind of container imaginable, filled with spring flowering bulbs, made up for the temporary halt that Mother Nature and her snowstorm had put to proceedings in the ground. I stood in the brick archway and drank the scene in. It smelt as good as it looked and I knew it was all going to taste incredible.

  Many of the raised beds were full of produce that was ready to harvest and others had fresh green tips showing through the dark crumbly earth. Both the big garden shed, which the residents referred to as the bothy, and the greenhouse were crammed with trays of seedlings that would soon be ready for potting and then, eventually, planting out, along with other plants that had been overwintered inside for extra protection.

  Unbidden, my mind skipped back to Jacob prowling about in his dark den. How could he not want to be a part of this? Gardening and growing was good for the soul and given his continuing bad temper I couldn’t help thinking that his soul was in need of a little tending. However, having been on the sharp end of his tongue I was more than happy to leave someone else to order some R and R. Perhaps Lisa would step in again to try to tame the beast.

  ‘Poppy,’ exclaimed Carole, rushing over. ‘At last! I’d all but given up on you. What have you been doing with yourself this week? Graham said you haven’t been over at all. I would have called round to see you myself, only I’ve been busy helping Heather with Evie and the boys.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ I to
ld her. ‘I’ve been spring-cleaning. I told myself I wouldn’t come over here until I’d got the house back in order. It’s taken all week but it’s as clean as a whistle again now, just how Kate had it.’

  ‘I wish I’d known,’ she tutted. ‘I would have lent you my Karcher. It’s a whizz on grimy grouting.’

  ‘Well, thank you anyway.’ I smiled. ‘This is all looking lovely. Is there still a lot left to get ready?’

  Thankfully there was and I enjoyed getting stuck into hanging the bunting and arranging the tables in preparation for when everyone else arrived a little later. Originally the party had been planned for Easter Sunday, like the year before, but almost everyone had commitments elsewhere and so the arrangements had been altered.

  ‘Every event here is a movable feast these days,’ explained Graham, ‘and with so many little ones being born these last few months it’s had to be.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Carole. ‘Kate and Heather are still doing what they can, but obviously it isn’t quite so easy to get out here with little ones in tow. And Lisa has been hard at it, busy writing her new book.’

  ‘That’s one of the reasons why we were all so pleased to hear that you were moving in after all.’ Graham beamed. ‘We know how keen you are to get involved, Poppy, and we’re hoping your new neighbour will join us at some point.’

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that was never going to happen.

  ‘We’re all doing our bit,’ Carole carried on, passing me some daffodil-filled jars to arrange along the tables, ‘but new pairs of hands are just what we need to keep the place on track.’

  ‘Well, I’ll do my best,’ I promised the couple, who clearly loved the project every bit as much as I did.

  ‘Which is more of a commitment than you’ll get out of Poppy’s neighbour,’ announced Lisa as she arrived with her family and set to, filling in the others on the latest details about Jacob that I couldn’t bring myself to share.

  A little later, once everything was arranged and in place, I headed home, bags brimming with bounty straight from the garden. Graham had dug up some of the new potatoes, which, although they were a little on the small side, I was going to cook with fresh mint, then toss in butter and take back, along with a few jars of my piccalilli and spicy salsa. I’d also knocked up a peppery salad made from the rocket, radishes, spring onions and watercress.

  By the time I had prepared the food, showered and changed, the clouds had cleared and the sun was back in full force. It was far from hot, but the gentle warmth and light would add its own spring flavour to the party and was much appreciated.

  As reluctant as I felt about doing it, I decided to make one last-ditch attempt to get Jacob onside and remind him that he had made a commitment, if not a promise, to come over at some point and have a look around. I knocked and knocked but he didn’t answer and, with his windows shut and downstairs curtains closed, it was impossible to tell if he was at home or not.

  ‘He’s not there,’ came a voice from the far side of the green. ‘He’s gone out.’

  It was Harold, the octogenarian neighbour who lived on my other side. We had met many times before as he had always been holding court when I happened to visit the garden. He was a sprightly character who had lived his whole life in Nightingale Square.

  ‘I saw him head off well over an hour ago,’ he further explained as he zipped along the pavement on his mobility scooter to where I was standing.

  ‘Hello, Harold,’ I said, stooping to kiss his cheek. ‘It’s wonderful to see you again. How are you?’

  ‘Blooming, my dear.’ He smiled back at me. ‘Now, what have you got there? It smells absolutely delicious. Is it mint?’

  I gave him a brief rundown of the dishes I had prepared, loaded up the basket on the front of his scooter and together we set off back to the garden. I couldn’t help feeling furious with Jacob. He’d gone back on his word – even though I had cajoled him into giving it – and now it turned out I had been made to look a fool in the pub for no good reason.

  I told myself he never had any intention of coming to the party and that he was most likely back in The Dragon. No doubt he’d picked out some shadowy corner to hide away in until it was all over. Well, that was it as far as I was concerned – both him and his hostility could bugger right off.

  *

  ‘Look who turned up just after you left,’ said Lisa in a low whisper as she ushered me into the bothy to deposit my culinary contributions. ‘He’s been here for ages. I’m surprised your paths didn’t cross when you went home earlier.’

  I peered out of the window and was amazed to see Jacob, mug in hand, standing with John, Lisa’s husband, at the barbecue.

  ‘What the—’ I began, but then stopped before I fell into the trap of sounding every bit as rattled as he usually did.

  After all, I had wanted him to come, had been made to look a total idiot as I tried to convince him that he should, so it would have been a bit off to be annoyed that he’d made the effort, wouldn’t it?

  ‘He’s been a real hit with the kids,’ said Lisa as she popped a piece of potato into her mouth. ‘Oh wow,’ she said, groaning with pleasure, ‘these are delicious.’

  I liberated the container from her grip. They were also few and far between.

  ‘What do you mean he’s been a hit with the kids?’ I frowned.

  ‘They all think he’s wonderful,’ she laughed.

  Why was she not in the least bit concerned that a man we knew absolutely nothing about had turned up more or less unannounced (yes, he had been invited, but no one had really expected him to come), and set about charming the local children? Was that not just a little bit weird?

  ‘But they don’t even know him.’

  ‘Well, they do now.’ Lisa carried on smiling. ‘When he arrived, they were all getting bored so he sat them down and told them a story.’

  ‘You mean he read to them?’

  ‘No, he didn’t have a book. From what I could tell, he just made it up.’

  I looked back out of the window and narrowed my eyes at the rear view of him. I couldn’t really picture him as some modern-day Pied Piper, but then again what Lisa was telling me didn’t sound like the version of Jacob either of us had been subjected to either. Perhaps he had a twin? Perhaps the nice helpful one had shown up today and the evil one with the gruff bark was back in the lair, brooding in the dark—

  ‘Poppy?’

  I almost jumped out of my skin.

  ‘What? Sorry.’

  ‘I said: do you want a drink?’ Lisa repeated.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘not yet, thanks. I’m good.’

  I slipped back outside and began unnecessarily lining up the cutlery, moving surreptitiously round the table to try to listen in on John and Jacob’s conversation. The merits of gas versus charcoal for outdoor cooking didn’t sound particularly incriminating . . . but then I remembered how my neighbour’s ears had pricked up the day we moved in and he realised that Luke Lonsdale owned Prosperous Place.

  What if he was some paparazzi hack looking for a story? Granted, buying a house, moving into the area, hibernating for the winter and then charming the local kids was quite an effort to go to, but none of us were still any the wiser as to what his job actually was. I knew that Luke had been pestered by the press before and wondered if I should warn him that we may have an impostor in our midst.

  ‘Grub’s up!’ bellowed Lisa before I had the chance, and everyone rushed to the table.

  The feast laid out before us was nothing short of spectacular and everyone tucked in with gusto. It was a combined effort from everyone: John had cooked the meat (and done it to perfection), Mark had supplied the bread from Blossom’s and the salad, potato and pasta dishes were courtesy of me and some of my neighbours. Carole had lined up the sweet treats, including rhubarb crumble made with tangy tart stalks plucked straight from the garden.

  ‘Surely this has to beat your microwave meals, Jacob?’ Lisa winked as my neighbour helped hims
elf to another lamb chop and a dollop of my rapidly disappearing salsa to accompany it.

  ‘It certainly does,’ he told her.

  He looked different, more relaxed. His shoulders weren’t quite so close to his ears as they had been before. He wasn’t the dish some of the others had suggested, but he did look better. I only hoped he wasn’t going to turn out to be someone he shouldn’t.

  ‘Poppy made the salsa,’ Lisa carried on, ‘and the piccalilli.’

  ‘It’s nice,’ he said, not looking at me.

  Crikey, my cup runneth over.

  ‘You’re very quiet today, Poppy,’ observed Luke from his seat at the head of the table.

  ‘I daresay the move has taken its toll,’ said Heather, who was being fed cut-up mouthfuls of food by her doting husband, Glen, while she somehow managed to discreetly feed both her baby boys at once. ‘Things like that are so draining.’

  This from the woman who was successfully wrangling three tiny children on less than four hours’ sleep a night.

  ‘I think it’s far more likely that she’s still smarting over the fact that I’ve been astonishingly rude to her every time we’ve talked,’ said Jacob unexpectedly. ‘I’m probably the last person she wants to be sitting down to celebrate Easter with.’

  He was looking at me now, but his expression was completely unreadable. I got the feeling that he was happier talking about me than to me. I hadn’t been thinking anything like what he had suggested, but as he’d mentioned it . . .

  ‘From what I’ve heard you’ve been astonishingly rude to everyone,’ I blurted out before I had time to stop myself.

  ‘Now that is true,’ said Lisa, laughing behind her napkin as everyone else gasped. ‘You do have to admit you have been a bit of a miserable bugger, Jacob.’

  ‘Lisa,’ tutted Kate, covering Jasmine’s ears, ‘the kids.’

  Lisa shrugged and I looked back at Jacob to see how he would react. He just carried on eating.

  ‘But the kids love him,’ I said, deciding now was the time to air my concerns, ‘don’t they, Lisa? And Jacob, you clearly know more about us than we know about you.’