by Heidi Swain
Chapter 12
My little home in Nightingale Square felt an awful lot smaller with Ryan inside it. Not only was he tall and with size ten shoes, his kit took up as much space as he did, in spite of his claim that he was travelling light.
‘Right,’ said Jacob, once he had seen us and the luggage safely inside, ‘I’ll leave you to it. I’m guessing you’ll be going to the garden tomorrow, Poppy?’
‘Definitely.’
‘And what about the pub tonight?’
‘I’m up for the pub,’ said Ryan, stooping back through the door, in a move I guess he had got used to to avoid concussion.
‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘We won’t make the pub tonight, but we’ll definitely come to the garden tomorrow.’
‘I need a fag,’ muttered Ryan, ‘is it all right if I smoke in the house?’
‘No, it is not,’ I said straight away.
I had no idea he smoked.
‘You’ll have to go out in the garden. I’ll show you where.’
Once Jacob had gone I gave Ryan a rinsed-out tin for his butts and pointed him in the right direction, then set about making us both tea and filling a plate with a variety of biscuits. As I carried the tray out I could see my brother expertly rolling a cigarette and hoped the habit was nothing more than a passing phase.
‘I didn’t know you smoked,’ I said mildly as I set the tray down on the little mosaic-topped table and pulled out the chair opposite his.
‘I daresay there’s a lot you don’t know about me,’ he said, lighting up and taking a long drag. ‘Like I said at the station, I’m not a kid any more.’
‘I can see that,’ I said, smiling, ‘and I daresay there’s plenty that you don’t know about me either.’
‘I daresay,’ he shot back, hastily abandoning his roll-up when he caught sight of the biscuits.
Not that avid a smoker then, but a teenager with a healthy appetite nonetheless. The plate was soon half empty and I couldn’t help wondering where he stored the calories. His thin frame didn’t look like it held on to anything for long.
‘So, how come you managed to afford to buy this place then?’ he asked, once he had finally finished munching. ‘I didn’t think working in a shop paid that well.’
‘It doesn’t really.’ I frowned, wondering where he had got the idea that my pretty abode belonged to me. ‘This place isn’t mine. I’m renting it from a friend.’
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘right. Mum said she’d helped you out with a mortgage deposit.’
More like she had helped herself to my rental one. Even though I was seething, I didn’t correct him. I wanted to welcome Ryan to life in the square and starting his visit off with a conversation to set him straight about all the lies our mother had spun would probably take longer than he was thinking of staying.
‘She must have got the wrong end of the stick,’ I said.
‘She does that a lot.’ Ryan nodded.
It saddened me to think that he was used to her mind games and half-truths, but at least he was some way aware of what she was really like and I was spared the unsavoury job of removing any rose-tinted glasses he might have been wearing.
‘Talking of Mum,’ I went tentatively on, ‘did you get hold of her to tell her where you are? I still haven’t managed to make contact but I’ve sent her an email, along with about a gazillion texts.’
Ryan shrugged.
‘I left a note,’ he said, ‘and I did have a bit of a tidy-up.’
I resisted the urge to drill him about whether he’d turned the lights off, closed the fridge, locked the doors and shut the windows.
‘Although,’ he said, draining his mug of tea in three great mouthfuls, ‘I think I might have left some milk in the fridge and some bread in the bin.’
‘Oh Ryan,’ I said, feeling momentarily dismayed. ‘The milk will stink and the bread will be a mouldy mess in no time.’
‘Oh yeah.’ He grinned, reaching for the last chocolate cookie. ‘I didn’t think of that.’
I smiled back and shook my head. He really was Puck to a T. I hoped his tricksy antics didn’t get any more mischievous than forgetting to throw out the perishables.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘not to worry, I’m just pleased you’ve come.’
He didn’t say anything.
‘I know things can’t have been easy since you lost your dad.’
‘I didn’t lose him, Pol.’ He frowned. ‘He died.’
I couldn’t keep up with him. One minute he was talking as though we were conspirators but the next he was going out of his way to make things awkward. Was that just typical teenage behaviour or was he deliberately doing his utmost to make me suffer for all the years I hadn’t been around?
‘That’s what I meant,’ I said. ‘And I’m hoping being here will help.’
‘With what?’
‘College for a start. It’s only a quick bus ride away. You’ll be able to get your attendance back up in no time.’ I didn’t mention the meetings. ‘Although I’m still surprised you took the A-level option.’
I’d been mulling that over, and from what I could remember Ryan had always been a practical rather than a studious kid, but perhaps he’d changed.
‘I should have been doing an apprenticeship but it didn’t work out,’ he said. ‘So, I just picked what I thought would keep me out of the house the longest.’
That didn’t make sense to me. If he was so keen to stay away from home, why had he stopped going in to college?
‘Mum always had some bloke or another staying,’ he went on, ‘and it made me uncomfortable. I hated it. I’ve hated the way she carries on for as long as I can remember. She wasn’t much different even when she was married to Dad.’
I was sorry he had felt that way but pleased that he had decided to come and stay with me when Mum wasn’t in the equation and he could have taken advantage of her absence.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘you’re here now.’
‘Yeah, well, I was almost out of food,’ he said bluntly, ‘and she hadn’t left me much cash so I didn’t have any choice but to come, did I?’
I hoped he didn’t mean that, although looking at the stubborn set of his jaw, I think he did. Perhaps my flattered feelings were misplaced. Perhaps the potential sibling solidarity I thought I had just glimpsed was actually wishful thinking.
‘Have I got time for another fag before dinner?’ he asked, pulling the pouch of tobacco out of his pocket again.
I looked at the now empty plate and wondered if I was going to be able to keep up with his larger than average appetite.
‘Yes,’ I told him, ‘dinner won’t be for a while yet and you might want to have an early night. We have a busy day ahead tomorrow.’
Ryan looked at me and frowned.
‘We’re going to the community garden across the road,’ I told him. ‘There’s lots of planting to do.’
‘But it’s Sunday tomorrow,’ he said, his chin raised in what looked like a challenge.
‘Church then?’ I suggested, trying to raise a smile.
‘I always sleep through Sundays.’
‘Not here you don’t.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously,’ I said, more firmly. ‘My house, my rules.’
‘I thought it was your mate’s house, Polly,’ he said, lighting up again.
This was harder than I thought it was going to be. I didn’t want him to walk all over me but I didn’t want him heading straight back to Wynmouth because I’d put my foot down too firmly either.
‘Let’s just start by getting the basics right, shall we?’ I suggested. ‘It’s Poppy, remember? Not Polly.’
‘Right,’ he said, blowing smoke straight out of his nostrils in one long stream, ‘Poppy it is then.’
*
Things felt a little tense between us after that and I couldn’t wait to get to bed, relax and drop the responsible adult act for a few hours. Colin might have thought I was being a wonderful big sis, but I couldn’t help thinking
that Lou and Jacob’s take on the situation was far more accurate. I probably was mad and yes, I was definitely in for a rough ride.
If only Ryan could be the helpful and considerate version of himself, the one who had helped the woman off the train. I had picked up on intermittent flashes of loveliness throughout the evening, but he was a far more complex character than that. He was a simmering cauldron of emotions with a large pinch of anger and suspicion thrown into the mix, and I knew that his presence in the house, and his ever-changing moods, were going to take some getting used to.
‘You all set then?’ I asked, when he finally emerged from his room the following morning.
It was nearer lunchtime than breakfast and I had frustratingly watched a steady stream of neighbours leaving the square and heading to Prosperous Place. I was itching to join them but could hardly abandon my brother on his first morning in my care, especially as I’d told him Sundays weren’t for sleeping through.
‘If you want to jump in the shower,’ I urged, ‘I’ll make you some breakfast and we’ll get going.’
‘What, now?’ he yawned.
‘Yes, now,’ I answered. ‘It’s almost lunchtime.’
‘All right, Ma,’ he tutted, ‘keep your wig on. And don’t worry about breakfast. I never bother.’
For someone who never bothered he soon made short work of three of the four bacon rolls I cooked up while he was taking his time to get ready to go.
‘Enjoy those, did you?’ I smiled.
‘They were all right.’ He shrugged.
‘Your turn tomorrow,’ I told him.
‘To do what?’
‘Make breakfast for me,’ I said, throwing him the tea towel. ‘I think that’s only fair, don’t you?’
Everyone was well stuck into the planting by the time we arrived, even Jacob, but I was pleased to see that they had saved plenty for us to do.
‘What is this place?’ asked Ryan when we stepped into the garden and were met with a hail of hellos and warm welcomes.
‘This,’ I said proudly as I steered him past Lisa’s eldest, Tamsin, who was clearly already smitten, and on towards the bothy, ‘is the reason I moved to Nightingale Square.’
Ryan looked at me as if I was talking another language, one that he didn’t understand at all.
‘It’s a community garden,’ I elaborated, ‘for the residents of the square. We all garden here together and share the harvest. We also throw some pretty amazing parties.’
Given the expression on both Tamsin’s, who had followed us, and Ryan’s faces, my idea of what made for an ‘amazing party’ didn’t match theirs at all.
‘Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Ryan,’ said Jacob, coming to my rescue. ‘I had no intention of getting roped in until your sister dragged me here, and look at me now.’
He held up his soil-encrusted hands to prove that he was part of the gang and Ryan looked suitably unimpressed.
‘Well, I’m not getting my hands dirty.’ He scowled. ‘I’m only here because you made me come, Poppy. I’m not joining in.’
Tamsin looked ready to swoon.
‘There’s chickens,’ she said, ‘and cats. Wanna see?’
Ryan didn’t appear to care either way, but trailed off after her anyway.
‘How’s it going?’ asked Jacob, the second the pair were out of earshot.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘I think.’
I wasn’t sure really. Perhaps I should have just left him in bed.
‘Last night he said he’d only come because he was running out of money, but I hope he was just saying that to get a rise.’
‘Did you give him one?’ Jacob asked, reaching round me for a hand trowel and another tray of plants.
‘No,’ I said. ‘It was all a bit fraught though. I feel as if I’m walking on eggshells most of the time, trying not to say the wrong thing.’
‘You’ll soon get used to each other.’ Jacob smiled.
I hoped he was right.
‘Come on then,’ he said, ‘come and show me how to plant these beans.’
*
I made a point of keeping track of where Ryan was throughout the day, but I didn’t keep asking if he was all right. He disappeared a couple of times, back over to the green to smoke, but I tried not to clock-watch all of the time he was out of sight. Tamsin was a more than capable shadow anyway.
By late afternoon we had finished planting everything out and John had fired up the barbecue. Everyone was pleased with our combined efforts and as the plant pots slowly emptied and the beds and troughs began to fill up, I had been mentally running through all manner of recipes I was hoping to try out.
‘Are all of your pots made out of plastic then?’ Ryan frowned as he watched me rinsing some off and setting them out to dry.
‘Pretty much,’ I told him, pleased that he had noticed. I liked the thought that for all his prickles my brother was environmentally aware. ‘But we reuse what we’ve got and we’ve been trying out alternatives, like sowing directly into empty cardboard loo rolls and then planting the whole thing out to biodegrade as the plant grows.’
Ryan appeared to have lost interest and scooped up Dash, one of the cats Luke and Kate had adopted when they were found as kittens in the bothy. Both Dash and his sister Violet seemed as keen on my brother as Tamsin and I remembered that he’d always had a way with animals. He had acquired quite a menagerie by the time I left home. It used to drive Mum mad. Clearly, he hadn’t lost his Dr Dolittle tendencies.
‘I think you’ve got a friend there,’ I commented, nodding at the tomcat, who was usually harder to handle than his sister and nowhere near as affectionate.
‘Yeah,’ said Ryan, as he wandered off again. ‘He’s all right, isn’t he?’
We all gathered round the tables to eat together and even though Ryan tried to keep a low profile, Carole and Lisa’s questions proved a bit much.
‘Would you mind giving me a hand moving some of these pots, Ryan?’ Jacob asked when it became apparent that almost everyone’s attention was focused on my brother rather than their second helpings.
‘I’ll help too,’ I said, pushing back my chair.
‘Thanks,’ said Ryan when he realised that we were shuffling the pots around to nowhere in particular.
‘You’re welcome,’ said Jacob. ‘I got the same treatment when I first came here, so I know what it’s like. A lot of it came from your sister actually.’
‘Hey,’ I objected.
‘Don’t panic,’ Jacob rushed on. ‘I know now that it was all well-intentioned.’
‘That’s all right then,’ I huffed.
‘But it was also pretty full-on,’ he added.
Ryan snorted.
‘But don’t you feel better about life as a result of my pushy ways and full-on interference?’ I asked, feeling confident of his answer.
‘Not really,’ he said, ‘but at least I’m occupied.’
Ryan snorted again.
That was not the answer I had expected. So much for me being the Belle to his Beast. Undoubtedly, my work with Jacob still wasn’t done. I hoped my little brother wasn’t going to be such a tough nut to crack.
‘Well,’ I said, straightening up and ignoring Ryan’s obvious amusement, ‘I’ll just have to try even harder then, won’t I? For both of you.’
Chapter 13
Even though I had been reluctant to fall in with the suggestion, I was pleased Harry had insisted that I took the week off. It turned out that my brother hadn’t been acquainted with how to run a house, or indeed look after himself, at all. He was a stranger to the laundry bin and beyond tipping half a packet of cereal into a Pyrex bowl and slopping almost a full pint of milk on top, his culinary skills were woefully lacking.
He soon realised that I wasn’t going to accept ignorance as an excuse for not pulling his weight and by the middle of the week he was as capable of setting the washing machine, drying dishes and adding Marmite to spaghetti, Nigella-style, as I was.
On
e thing that did need more working on, however, was the time he chose to get out of bed in the mornings.
‘I wouldn’t be too tough on him about that,’ said Lou when she rang to see how things were settling down and to tell me she was still working on the Reading Room makeover plans for Colin. ‘When you head back to work next week, you might be grateful to know that he’s sleeping the day away.’
‘That’s a fair point,’ I told her, ‘but it won’t be much of a comfort on the days when he’s supposed to be in college, will it?’
‘No,’ she agreed, ‘I guess not, but I might be able to help with that.’
‘How?’
‘I’ve just taken delivery of some old-style clocks,’ she said, and laughed, ‘you know, the wind-up ones with Mickey Mouse on the face and bells on the top for the alarm. Set one of those going in every room in the house and he’ll soon get his butt out of bed!’
‘It might come to that,’ I laughed back.
*
‘I have to go to the market tomorrow,’ I mentioned to Ryan towards the end of the week. ‘I thought you could come with me.’
‘Thrilling,’ he sighed, sounding thoroughly fed up.
‘I bet you’ll be glad to get back to college next week, won’t you?’ I asked. ‘I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to have a mate or two round here, you know.’
I hadn’t thought about it before, but Ryan’s friends from college would probably be local lads.
‘No,’ he said, looking aghast at the idea, ‘you’re all right.’
‘I promise I wouldn’t cramp your style,’ I told him. ‘I won’t ask if they want to stay for tea.’
He still didn’t look impressed.
‘Well,’ I said, shrugging, hoping that a trip to the market might cheer him up a bit, ‘the offer’s there.’
Ryan’s reaction to the market didn’t turn out to be quite the one I expected.
‘I’ve never been in here before,’ he said, as we criss-crossed our way beneath the striped canopy maze of permanent stalls. ‘It’s a bit disorientating, isn’t it?’
I stopped at one of my favourite stalls, which sold dried herbs and spices, to stock up on a few ingredients for my larder.
