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

by Heidi Swain

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I see.’

  I’d been so preoccupied by thoughts of Ryan’s text and whether or not I should respond to it that I hadn’t given walking with Jacob a second thought.

  ‘So, are you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘For pity’s sake, Poppy,’ he snapped. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes.’ I swallowed, my eyes misting up a little as a result of his annoyance. I really didn’t need him turning up and making me feel bad as well.

  ‘No,’ I said. I sniffed, blowing my nose on the tissue I had fortuitously stuffed up my sleeve. ‘Not really, but I’ll survive. Thank you for taking the trouble to ask.’

  I supposed him going to the effort of coming to find out how I was suggested that he cared, but he did have a funny way of expressing it. It felt almost as if he was angry with me because we had a connection and annoyed that the connection had elicited from him something verging on a compassionate emotional response. He really was a conundrum.

  ‘I’m supposed to be in school,’ he said, looking at his watch, ‘it’s my PPA time.’

  ‘PPA?’

  ‘Planning, prep and assessment.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ I said, ‘I see.’

  ‘I better go.’

  ‘Well, thank you for checking in with me.’ I smiled. ‘It was kind of you to come.’

  He looked at his watch again.

  ‘How did you know where I worked?’ I asked. I didn’t think we’d ever discussed it. In the mornings when we reached the road at the end of the square he went right and I went left. He’d never asked where I was heading.

  ‘I popped into the bookshop and asked Colin. You were with him in the pub the other week, so I guessed he’d know.’

  I nodded, but didn’t comment. I didn’t much want to think about how that particular trip to The Dragon had ended.

  ‘Well,’ he said, his tone lighter now he was at the door, ‘that’s all right then.’

  And with that he was gone.

  *

  I kept myself to myself that week. I walked to work earlier to avoid Jacob, even though he had gone to the bother of checking up on me; I cancelled my midweek plans with Colin and Lou and was an infrequent visitor to the garden. There had been no further texts from Ryan, even though I had sent him plenty. Mum had shot a fair few in my direction too. I hadn’t given her an answer about the meetings, in the hope that she would realise that she should be the one to go, but she was still all set for her sojourn in the Spanish sun.

  Dug deep into a depressing fug, I couldn’t believe how quickly my perfect new life had been derailed and, as I dumped myself down on the sofa for another evening of channel-hopping, I knew that if I wanted to get it back on track then I was going to have to get to the bottom of everything and do a darn sight more than try to curb Ryan’s absenteeism. But what could I do? It wasn’t like me not to know the answer and the brick wall I’d hit was making me feel even worse.

  A heavy couple of thumps on the front door knocker pulled me out of my reverie.

  ‘Jacob,’ I said, wrapping my cotton dressing gown a little more securely round my scantily clad frame. ‘Hi.’

  ‘There you go!’ shouted a voice behind him. ‘I told you she was home.’

  It was Mark.

  ‘Hi,’ said Jacob, ignoring Mark.

  ‘Are you checking up on me again?’ I smiled.

  ‘Something like that,’ said Jacob, examining his shoes. ‘I’ve not seen you all week, and . . .’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, clearing my throat. ‘I’m sorry about that. I’ve just needed some space to think.’

  ‘About what?’ asked Mark, bounding up the path.

  Jacob looked as if he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

  ‘Come on, Pops,’ Mark wheedled. ‘A problem shared and all that.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ I told him, feeling myself blush. ‘It’s all sorted now.’

  Jacob left his shoe-gazing to look me full in the face. He clearly knew that whatever I’d been thinking about wasn’t sorted at all but, not surprisingly given how fiercely he protected his own privacy, he obviously had no desire to pry. Mark, however, had no such qualms.

  ‘Bullshit,’ he burst out. ‘Something’s up. Lou said you’ve been hiding out all week so we’re here to drag you to The Dragon.’

  ‘You are, Mark,’ Jacob amended. ‘I’m not. I was all set for an early night until Lou collared me when I was in the bookshop.’

  ‘She said we were to tempt you with the promise of chips, Pops,’ Mark continued with a boyish grin.

  Evidently Lou felt my self-imposed quiet time needed to come to an end. My stomach growled as I imagined diving into a bowl of the pub’s home-made chunky chips, liberally sprinkled with salt and dipped in thick tomato ketchup.

  ‘All right,’ I told the dynamic duo, ‘give me two minutes and I’ll meet you at the end of the road.’

  *

  It turned out that Lou had backed up her potato plan with a generous dollop of Jacob on the side.

  ‘Here they are,’ said Colin, ushering me into my seat as Lou magically appeared and set down a bowl of the aforementioned chips and a pint of the usual in front of me and another for Jacob and Mark.

  ‘Well done, Jacob.’ She beamed. ‘I told you she wouldn’t be able to resist.’

  ‘I helped too!’ Mark added indignantly.

  ‘Resist what?’ I asked.

  ‘A lost cause, apparently,’ Jacob sighed.

  ‘A lost what?’ I frowned, furiously fanning my mouth because the chip I had bitten into was so hot.

  ‘I knew’ – Lou winked – ‘that if old Mr Grumpy here extended the hand of neighbourly friendship—’

  ‘And we offered chips,’ chimed in Mark, leaning over to pinch one from my bowl.

  ‘Hands off,’ I warned him.

  ‘. . . then there was no way on this earth that you were going to turn him down.’

  She was right.

  ‘And how did you work that one out?’ I asked, deciding to let her enjoy her moment of glory.

  ‘Because you want everyone to be as happy as you are, Poppy,’ she laughed. ‘The thought that Jacob isn’t as content as you are living in Nightingale Square has been half killing you.’

  She was right again, of course, but also blissfully unaware that my own feelings of contentment had taken a bit of a battering. Suddenly I was feeling more choked than cheery.

  ‘And I knew,’ Lou continued, ‘that if he suggested coming out for a drink—’

  ‘I suggested it actually,’ said Mark with a wave.

  ‘. . . then you’d jump at the chance in the hope that it meant he was ready to start socialising and settling in.’

  ‘I’ll never be ready for that,’ grumbled Jacob.

  ‘You’re just so lovely and so giving,’ Lou carried on, not noticing that I was about to start sobbing into my napkin, ‘and that’s why we’ve—’

  ‘It was more you than anyone, Lou,’ Colin butted in as I wiped away a traitorous tear.

  ‘And that’s why,’ she carried on, ‘I’ve roped the guys in to stage this intervention and find out what the heck has been up with you this week! You’ve never missed our Wednesday-night pub pick-me-up. Not once in all the time I’ve known you!’

  She would have carried on, but Colin put his hand over hers and shook his head and Jacob, aware of the change in the atmosphere, suddenly became more interested in examining the liquid in his glass than joining in.

  ‘What is it, Pops?’ asked Mark. ‘What’s happened?’

  *

  They sat and silently listened as I explained that the one person in my life who I still hadn’t found a way of helping was my brother. I don’t think I would have got through the lengthy monologue had Colin not handed over Gus once I’d finished my chips. As I talked I fussed the little dog, who took it all in while I avoided making eye contact with my two-legged friends.

  ‘Poppy, you are far from useless,’ Jacob su
rprised me by saying the second I had finished telling them that I was a hopeless sister. ‘From what I can make out, the reason you haven’t been close to your brother until now is because your mother’s such a bloody nightmare.’

  ‘Hear, hear!’ agreed Mark. ‘And you have been trying to build a relationship with Ryan recently.’

  ‘I suppose,’ I said.

  ‘Where family are concerned things can be far from straightforward,’ Jacob continued. ‘And given what you’ve just told us, I’m not surprised you’ve kept your distance for so long.’

  ‘If I were in your shoes,’ Mark told me, ‘I don’t think I could find it in my heart to even consider getting involved.’

  ‘Really?’ Colin frowned.

  Out of all of us, I knew Colin would have the hardest time getting his head round that idea, because he and his relatives were super-tight.

  ‘Really,’ Mark said firmly.

  ‘Not everyone is blessed with a lovely family, Col,’ Lou reminded him.

  ‘And in my experience,’ Jacob carried on, ‘relatives think they can get away with doing pretty shitty stuff to each other because you’re bound to them by blood and Christmas dinners and crappy camping holidays.’

  The rest of us exchanged a quick glance and sat stock-still, not wanting to interrupt his rare moment of sharing.

  ‘If you fall out with friends you make new ones but when it comes to real family feuds that rip life apart, you lose everyone and it’s not just the people you sacrifice. It’s like your entire childhood never existed . . .’

  His words trailed off.

  ‘Is that what’s happened to you?’ Lou asked, wide-eyed.

  I was every bit as keen as she was to find out but I would never have asked so bluntly.

  ‘No,’ he snapped back, suddenly refocusing on me. ‘It’s not, and anyway we’re here to talk about Poppy and her family, not me and mine.’

  ‘I know but—’ Lou tried.

  ‘So,’ said Mark, tactfully shutting her down, ‘do you really think there’s more going on with Ryan than him just playing hooky, Poppy?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, swallowing, ‘I do and given what he’s been through recently, and who his mother is, I can’t say I’m all that surprised. I just don’t know what to do about it.’

  ‘At the end of the day, Ryan is your mother’s responsibility, Poppy, not yours,’ Colin said sensibly. ‘She can’t run away just because things have got tough.’

  ‘But she will,’ I whispered. ‘I know she will.’

  ‘And you’ll step in to pick up the pieces,’ said Jacob, a shadow of a smile playing around his lips.

  ‘Will I?’ I swallowed again. I could feel fresh tears gathering and tried to blink them away.

  ‘Of course you will,’ he said, smiling properly now, ‘because it isn’t in your nature to ignore someone when they’re in trouble, Poppy. If you see someone struggling you can’t resist lending them a hand and now you know that your brother really needs you, you’ll find a way to reach out to him.’

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lou nudge Colin and I wondered if Jacob was thinking about how I had nagged him into giving in and coming to the garden because I thought it would help him, but I didn’t ask. His kind words had ignited a warm glow somewhere near my heart and I didn’t want to risk snuffing it out.

  ‘And now I think we should all have another drink and sleep on it,’ he carried on. ‘Lou was right to get Mark and me to trick you into coming out tonight. You’ve shared the problem and together we’ll come up with a solution.’

  I felt the glow heat up a little more as he said the word ‘we’. I wasn’t sure when the transition had occurred but apparently I had worn his hostility, if not completely away, a long way down and he now considered himself one of us. It was a good feeling, knowing that I’d somehow made that happen.

  Chapter 9

  It was days since I had bared my soul in The Dragon and no one had come up with a solution to the situation. Mum hadn’t given up sending texts and I knew time was running out. If I didn’t get a wriggle on she’d be gone and Ryan would be impossible to get hold of. I needed to come up with a solution to suit everyone – and fast.

  ‘What are your plans for tonight, then?’ Harry asked as we closed up on Saturday evening. ‘A night out on the tiles dancing, is it?’ he chuckled, ‘or a get-together on the green with your girlfriends?’

  I had told my boss a little about the situation with Ryan, but I hadn’t gone into details. If he knew that I was concerned then he would worry and that was the last thing I wanted. This was one problem Harry wouldn’t be able to solve and I didn’t want to burden him with it all.

  ‘I’m on watering duty at the garden,’ I told him. ‘So, the only dancing I’ll be doing is with the watering can.’

  Harry laughed again and shook his head.

  ‘You certainly know how to party, Pops,’ he teased.

  ‘Laugh all you like,’ I told him cheekily. ‘As far as I’m concerned, it’s the perfect night out.’

  My responsibility to help keep everything growing wasn’t the only reason I was keen to get over to the garden. Not showing up to do my bit as regularly as I had been had made me feel pretty low very quickly. I was hoping that taking on a few more jobs and talking about the competition might free up enough headspace to help me untangle my family conundrum.

  ‘At last!’ cried Lisa, laughing, when I eventually arrived at the garden. ‘We’d all but given up on you. Where have you been?’

  ‘Trying to get in,’ I told her, deciding not to elaborate on my personal problems. ‘I forgot the code.’

  Lisa shook her head.

  ‘That’s because you haven’t used it enough,’ she said, and tutted. ‘Stick it in your phone,’ she advised, just as Neil had done the first day we came to the garden together, ‘that’s what we’ve all done.’

  I nodded and pulled out my mobile to follow her instructions. There was another message from Mum but I ignored it and added the code to my contacts list. All I needed now was to remember the name I had come up with to file it under.

  ‘I’ll get the watering underway,’ I told her, ‘and then look through the competition stuff with you if you like.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said with a smile, ‘that would be great. Many hands make light work and all that. At least now we don’t have to worry about how it would look to the judges if they happened to notice we were a neighbour down.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I frowned.

  Lisa pointed over to the henhouse.

  ‘Is that Jacob?’ I gasped, looking from the hen run to her and back again.

  ‘Yep,’ she giggled. ‘It is. He was loitering around the gate when I arrived, so I let him in and now Graham’s teaching him all about the pleasures and pitfalls associated with poultry care.’

  I could hardly believe my eyes and wondered what had finally tempted him to come back. As far as I was aware he hadn’t stepped foot in the place since our Easter celebration.

  ‘I don’t know what you’ve said or done to him, Poppy,’ Lisa beamed. ‘But he’s been like a different man since you moved in.’

  I nodded, but didn’t comment. Lisa’s imagination didn’t need further feeding. I knew she would bend whatever I said to her will, so I deemed it best not to say anything.

  ‘Are you a breast or a leg man, Jacob?’ I called as I slowly worked my way along, watering the containers closest to the henhouse first before moving on to check the rest of the beds.

  ‘Now, don’t you start,’ he groaned. ‘I’ve had more than enough of that from Lisa.’

  Whatever it was that had initially lured him over had clearly lost its charm because he didn’t look happy at all. If he’d just popped over with the intention of having a look at the place again then he was bound to be disappointed; not even the most casual visitor got off that lightly. Not when there was always so much to do. I hoped Graham dragging him to the henhouse hadn’t put him off.

  ‘Ignore them
both,’ said Graham, firmly thrusting a hen under Jacob’s right arm and picking up another himself. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, Poppy, we need to crack on.’

  Jacob didn’t look particularly relaxed with the squirming hen I recognised as Hetty inexpertly held under his arm. One flap of her wings and she’d be away.

  ‘Just don’t crack the eggs,’ I couldn’t resist saying.

  The comment instigated the biggest eye-roll imaginable from my neighbour and a tut from his tutor.

  ‘If you don’t lay off the mickey-taking,’ said Jacob, frowning, as Hetty made a noisy bid for freedom and he let her go, ‘I won’t tell you about the egg-citing idea I’ve come up with to solve your problem.’

  ‘Oh, good grief,’ Graham cried as he picked up another hen with his free hand and passed it to Jacob. ‘Don’t you start as well or we’ll never hear the last of it.’

  ‘Was that a joke?’ I gasped, feeling genuinely surprised but determined to capitalise on the unexpected moment. ‘Does moody Jacob actually have a sense of humour buried beneath those furrowed brows?’

  ‘I’ll have you know,’ he said, expertly waggling his brows while wrestling to smooth the ruffled wings of Petal, the little lavender Pekin, ‘I have an eggcellent sense of humour, thank you very much. It’s just a little rusty from lack of use.’

  I could hardly believe it. Two jokes in the same conversation. I mentally added up Jacob’s recent achievements and wondered if he really did have a twin after all, because this new and improved version didn’t tally with either the angry man I had met the day I moved in or the sincere but serious version I had feasted with at Easter.

  In the last few days this guy had visited a grocery store, he’d played a part in Lou’s plan to get me to the pub and now he was back in the garden, hen-wrangling and making jokes. Bad ones, but jokes nonetheless. Was the Nightingale Square magic finally beginning to find its way into his heart? The vision before me suggested he was in the midst of a transformation and I only hoped his problem-solving skills were as competent as his ability to miraculously loosen up.

  *

  ‘Oh my God.’ I laughed out loud when I finally heard what it was that he had come up with. ‘You have got to be kidding me.’