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

by Heidi Swain

  He’d hung up before I had a chance to correct him and I had absolutely no expectations of hearing from Ryan any time soon.

  *

  As it turned out, Kyle did pass the message on and I did hear from my brother, the next day while I was at work.

  ‘Sorry, Harry,’ I said, as I pressed to answer the call. ‘Could you please just serve this customer? I really need to take this.’

  Harry stepped quickly behind the till and I ducked into the stockroom.

  ‘Ryan.’ I smiled as I said it, hoping my non-confrontational tone would transmit through the ether and he wouldn’t see me as an interfering older sibling, but as someone he could talk to. ‘Thanks for ringing back.’

  ‘I didn’t really have much choice, did I?’

  He sounded just as sulky as I remembered him being at thirteen.

  ‘I still can’t believe Kyle told you Mum had buggered off.’

  I let the profanity pass.

  ‘For all I knew you could have reported her to the police. I’ve been waiting for social services to turn up and take me into care.’

  ‘I’m not likely to let that happen, am I?’ I said softly.

  ‘I dunno,’ he said, and I could imagine him shrugging. ‘You’ve never seemed to bother much about me before.’

  I could hardly refute the accusation, given the weight of evidence stacked against me.

  ‘Well,’ I said, trying to sound more in control than I felt, ‘that’s all about to change, if you want it to.’

  Ryan snorted and I willed him not to hang up. I got the feeling that if I blew this conversation then I wouldn’t get a chance at another one.

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a rubbish sister’ – I swallowed nervously – ‘and I’m sorry I left you to battle it out with Mum without any backup for so long.’

  ‘So, what’s going on then?’ he demanded, ignoring my apology. ‘If you say things are going to change, then tell me how. Are you coming to Wynmouth?’

  ‘No,’ I told him. ‘I can’t. My job’s here in Norwich, remember?’

  ‘Oh yeah.’ He sniffed. ‘I couldn’t expect you to put yourself out for me, could I?’

  I didn’t answer.

  ‘Go on then,’ he muttered.

  ‘Well,’ I said, bracing myself to either hear the line go dead or be bombarded with bad language, ‘I was wondering if you fancied coming to stay with me for a while?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I wanted to ask you if you would consider coming here, to Norwich, to live with me for a few weeks.’

  ‘I see.’

  I could tell from his tone that my suggestion was the last thing he had been expecting. Truth be told, if someone had proposed it to me when Mum had called on May Day I would have sounded exactly the same.

  ‘At least until the end of term,’ I carried on, encouraged that he hadn’t said no straight away. ‘My place is only a few minutes away from college so you wouldn’t have to face that journey every day. You could get your studying back on track.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘It can’t be easy having to travel that distance all week.’

  ‘I haven’t got lectures every day.’

  ‘I know, but even so, it’s a long way from Wynmouth. I was surprised when Mum said you were even doing A levels, to be honest.’

  ‘You and me both.’

  What did he mean by that?

  ‘The place where I’m living now is much bigger than my old flat,’ I told him. Not that he’d ever seen the old flat. ‘And surely it’s got to be better than living with Mum.’

  ‘Not that I am at the moment,’ he reminded me, ‘not technically anyway.’

  ‘That’s true,’ I conceded.

  He was going to turn me down. I could feel him building up to it and I wasn’t surprised. I mean, he was a sixteen-year-old lad who’d been left with a house to himself. He’d have to be mad to tell his older sister that he’d rather move in with her, wouldn’t he?

  ‘All right,’ he said, ‘I’ll come.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, sounding suddenly wary. ‘I mean, you do want me to, don’t you? You weren’t joking?’

  ‘N-no,’ I stammered, shaken by his sudden show of vulnerability, ‘of course I wasn’t joking. I just didn’t expect you to say yes. I hoped you’d want to come but I didn’t think you would.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ he told me, ‘cooking your own dinner every night wears thin after a while.’

  ‘Mum’s only been gone five minutes – and don’t tell me she cooks for you,’ I laughed. ‘That I will not believe!’

  ‘Nah,’ he said, ‘thank God. She’s hopeless in the kitchen.’

  As far as I was concerned she was hopeless everywhere.

  ‘So,’ I said, ‘shall I come and get you at the weekend?’

  ‘No,’ he shot back, a little too quickly for my liking.

  Surely he couldn’t have trashed the house already?

  ‘I can lock up here and then get the train to you. There’s no point you coming all this way and then back again when I can get to Norwich myself.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘I can manage.’

  ‘All right.’ I smiled. ‘Try and get in after half three if you can. I should be able to duck out of work a little earlier than usual and meet you at the station.’

  ‘All right,’ said Ryan, ‘thanks, Poppy.’

  ‘No problem,’ I replied, grateful that my real name had been reinstated, and then he was gone.

  Chapter 11

  ‘So, Ryan’s really coming?’ asked Lou that evening in the pub.

  ‘Yep,’ I said, holding up my phone so she, Jacob and Colin could see the text for themselves, ‘on the train this Saturday and arriving just before four.’

  ‘I think you’re mad,’ said Lou, shaking her head.

  ‘I think you’re a wonderful big sister,’ said Colin.

  ‘I think you’re in for a rough time,’ said Jacob, ‘but you’ve done the right thing.’

  He hadn’t made much mention of a ‘rough time’ when he came up with the idea, but there was little point in reminding him of that now. Ryan was coming and that was that.

  ‘And Harry’s given you another week off work,’ said Colin, ignoring Lou’s less than enthusiastic reaction and Jacob’s cautionary one. ‘How lucky was that?’

  ‘I know,’ I agreed. ‘He really is the best.’

  When I had reappeared in the shop after Ryan’s call, Harry had asked if everything was all right and, when I explained that my little brother would be coming to live with me for a while, Harry had insisted I take the following week off to settle him in.

  ‘You’ve worked for me for years, Poppy,’ he had said when I told him I couldn’t take more time, having only just had a week off after the move. ‘And in all that time you’ve never called in sick. You made it possible for me to visit my family in Australia and, more importantly than that, you held the fort on the days when my grief got the better of me.’

  That was all true, but I still didn’t want to leave him in the lurch.

  ‘I can manage,’ he reassured me. ‘You take this week to build some bridges with your brother.’

  In the end I had agreed, grateful to have found such a generous friend in my boss.

  ‘And next week is half-term,’ said Jacob, ‘so I’ll be around too. Not that I want to interfere,’ he quickly added.

  ‘Says the man who didn’t move here to join in or help out,’ I teased, reminding him of his former mantra.

  He had arrived at the pub with Mark and Neil, who had then gone on to a restaurant. I was pleased Jacob had decided to join us when they left. As far as integrating him into our little community was concerned, I felt we’d done a pretty good job, and even though Lisa was keen to put his transformation down to me I felt it had been more of a team effort.

  ‘Yeah well,’ he said, colouring slightly, ‘I couldn’t stay locked away for ever, could
I?’

  ‘Oh Jacob,’ said Lou, beaming, ‘is Poppy the Belle to your Beast?’

  ‘She could well be,’ he shocked me by saying.

  *

  It was a bus ride across the city from Greengages to the train station and, as the time ticked ever closer that Saturday afternoon, I couldn’t believe how nervous I felt. I wondered if Ryan was feeling the same way. He had messaged again to say he was on the train and I had messed up two consecutive till transactions as a result. I was grateful to have the distraction of being at work, but poor Harry looked as though he was wishing he’d been able to talk me into taking the whole day off.

  ‘You all set then?’ asked Jacob as he arrived in the shop just as I was signing off from my disastrous stint on the till.

  ‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ I said, taking a swig from my water bottle and wishing I’d never let my relationship with my brother slide. ‘I’m going now anyway. I’d rather be early than late. Have you been to the garden today?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jacob, ‘John asked if I’d give him a hand putting up the tripods for the beans.’

  I grinned and Jacob shook his head. I didn’t need to tell him that the place had sucked him in. He was well aware of what had happened and I couldn’t have been happier for him.

  ‘That’s good then,’ I said, ‘because they need planting out. If anything, they should have been in already.’

  ‘That’s what John said,’ Jacob told me. ‘Apparently they’ll want all hands on deck tomorrow so everyone can have a turn planting something.’

  ‘Including you? Planting something I mean, not being planted . . .’

  ‘I guess,’ he said, ‘and you could bring Ryan.’

  ‘Talking of my brother,’ I said, checking the clock for what was easily the millionth time, ‘I better go.’

  ‘I thought I’d come with you,’ he said, ‘if that’s all right? I thought you might appreciate the company and a hand with Ryan’s stuff.’

  I said goodbye to Harry, having made him promise to ring if the shop got too busy over the next few days.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Jacob asked as I kept my eyes trained along the road for first sight of the bus. ‘Nervous? Excited?’

  ‘Nauseous and terrified,’ I said honestly. ‘I still can’t believe you talked me into doing this.’

  ‘Truth be told,’ he said with a sigh, ‘neither can I.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well,’ he said, running his hands through his habitually untidy hair, ‘I wouldn’t give my brother houseroom and yet I’ve managed to convince you to embrace yours.’

  I tore my eyes away from the road and looked at Jacob’s bent head. I resisted the urge to run my own hands through his hair to try to straighten it out a bit and tucked them into my pockets instead.

  ‘Have you been estranged for long?’

  Just a couple of weeks ago I wouldn’t have dared to risk asking a question like that for fear of turning him back into the glowering beast, but things had changed.

  ‘Not all that long,’ he said gruffly.

  Sensing the subtle change in tone, I decided not to pry too deeply.

  ‘Is he older than you or younger?’

  ‘Younger.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. For some reason I had been expecting him to say older. ‘So, the pair of you are a bit like Ryan and me then?’

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘not really.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘He’s only two minutes and seven seconds younger.’

  ‘Oh wow,’ I gasped, ‘you’re twins!’

  It was hard to imagine another Jacob walking about somewhere, even if I had sometimes wondered light-heartedly if he had a doppelgänger, due to his ever-changing personality. I wondered if his brother had tidy hair.

  ‘Are you identical?’ I rushed on.

  ‘In almost every way,’ he said, biting his lip.

  ‘Crikey,’ I said, ‘that must make it even harder then.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Not talking or getting along,’ I elaborated. ‘I went to school with twins, two girls. They were practically joined at the hip. They told me that they felt the other one was an extension of themselves, if that makes sense. I’m probably not explaining it very well.’

  ‘No,’ he said, pushing his hair back again. ‘I get it. I know what you mean.’

  ‘So,’ I cautiously asked, ‘does that make your separation harder to handle?’

  ‘Nope,’ he said, jumping up as the bus came into view, ‘my brother has actually made it all very easy. I don’t have a problem hating him at all.’

  As the bus ground to a halt and we jumped on board there was no opportunity to ask what he meant and, to be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

  *

  I was a bit of a mess by the time we arrived at the train station and I was extremely grateful that Jacob had offered to tag along. Not only did I not know what to expect in terms of Ryan’s attitude and greeting, I didn’t really have much of an idea as to who to look for either.

  Mum had never shared photographs so, in my head, Ryan wasn’t much more than a boy; a lad who was happy kicking a football about in the back garden if it kept him out of the house. This new version, deemed old enough (if only by our mother) to look after himself and with enough swag to bluff his way to buying beer, was going to take some getting used to.

  ‘Is that him?’ asked Jacob, peering along the platform from our vantage point beyond the barrier.

  The guy he had pointed out was helping an elderly lady down from the carriage and then struggling to manage her wheeled suitcase along with his own luggage and what looked like a guitar.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘he’s far too tall.’

  ‘Well, he must have missed the train then,’ said Jacob, ‘there isn’t anyone else.’

  I squinted as the two unlikely travel companions made their way up the platform, and my breath caught in my throat.

  ‘Oh God,’ I gulped, reaching for Jacob’s sleeve, ‘it is him. That’s Ryan, that’s my little brother.’

  But there was nothing little about him. He was easily six feet tall and as slim as the beanpoles Jacob had been putting up. His skinny frame made him appear even taller. It was a wonder he didn’t snap under the weight of all that luggage.

  ‘Thank you, young man,’ said the lady, once he had assisted her through the barrier and handed over her suitcase. ‘I hope you have a wonderful stay, my dear, and you tell that sister of yours that you’re not going to be anywhere near the bother she thinks you’re going to be.’

  I looked at Jacob and raised my eyebrows.

  ‘I will.’ Ryan smiled. His sandy hair slipped to almost cover his eyes before he jerked his head and it fell straight back again.

  Why did practically all the men in my life these days need a haircut? Although to be fair, my brother’s was shaved short at the back and sides. It was just the top that was an unruly, and no doubt trendy, mess.

  ‘I’m sure she’ll be very relieved to hear it,’ he went on.

  ‘I’m sure she will,’ said the lady before scuttling off to hail a taxi, ‘I’m sure she will.’

  I have to admit, I was rather comforted by her kind words.

  ‘Hey,’ said Ryan as he walked over to where Jacob and I were standing and dropped a large canvas bag at his feet.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, the word awkwardly squeezing itself over the lump in my throat.

  I had no idea how to handle him and the bag he had put between us meant that a hug was definitely out of the question. Perhaps that was the intention.

  ‘I’m so pleased you decided to come,’ I said. ‘I can’t believe how different you look.’

  ‘I’m not a kid any more, Polly,’ he said, the shadow of a smile playing around his full lips.

  ‘I can see that.’ I nodded, deciding to let the namecheck go.

  He was a good-looking guy, with jutting cheekbones and a strong jaw. I just knew he would be a hit with the girls. I wonde
red how many hearts he’d already broken.

  Jacob cleared his throat and I realised I hadn’t introduced him.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, trying to laugh my surprise off. ‘I’m a little lost for words.’

  Ryan looked at me and raised his eyebrows and then held out his hand to Jacob.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, ‘I’m Ryan, the not so little brother.’

  ‘Jacob,’ said Jacob, taking Ryan’s hand and shaking it. ‘Good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  ‘Nothing good I hope?’ Ryan asked, his eyes swinging back to me.

  He seemed to have a far better handle on the situation than I had.

  ‘No,’ said Jacob, ‘nothing good at all.’

  ‘That’s all right then.’ Ryan nodded, his gaze still on me. ‘I’d hate to be a disappointment.’

  ‘I’m sure Mum has spent a lifetime making you feel like one of those.’

  He ignored the comment and I instantly regretted it, knowing it was bitchy and perhaps not quite the thing to say about one’s own mother. Even if it was true.

  ‘So,’ said Ryan, looking between me and Jacob. ‘Are you two a couple or what?’

  ‘No,’ said Jacob, before I even had a chance to open my mouth. ‘No. Absolutely not.’

  Ryan began to smile.

  ‘We’re neighbours, just neighbours,’ Jacob rabbited on. ‘We live next door to each other. Don’t we, Polly, I mean Poppy?’

  Ryan’s subtle mischief was playing havoc already. Perhaps I should pick a different name for him seeing as he seemed so keen to mess with mine. In that moment, Puck felt far more fitting than Ryan.

  ‘Yes,’ I said with a smile, ‘we do. Although I was going to say we were friends.’

  ‘Well yes,’ Jacob rushed on. ‘We are friends too. Friends who happen to be neighbours.’

  ‘As long as that’s clear then,’ said Ryan, still smirking.

  ‘Right,’ I said, and reached for the bag, but Jacob got there first. ‘Shall we get on? I bet you’re gasping for a cup of tea, aren’t you, Ryan?’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind a beer,’ he said, hoisting his backpack a little higher and balancing his guitar.

  ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t—’ I began, but Jacob cut me off.

  ‘Shall we get a taxi back?’ he suggested. ‘It’ll save the bother of struggling on the bus.’