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

by Heidi Swain

  ‘Yes,’ I said, looking from her to Jacob and back again.

  ‘Don’t look so worried’ – she laughed – ‘he’s talked about you in the staffroom at school, and you fit his description perfectly.’

  She was a colleague then. My heart thumped and skittered at the realisation. I dreaded to think what he had said about me during the last few days.

  ‘Apparently you’re the queen of preserves.’ She grinned.

  ‘Okay, thanks, Hannah,’ said Jacob, as he rushed forward and ushered her into the hall. ‘I’ll give some thought to the Year Three trip and we’ll discuss it again on Tuesday.’

  I would have bet my best preserve pan on him panicking that she was going to say something rather less complimentary in the next breath.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ he said, when he came back from letting her out.

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m sorry for interrupting.’

  He nodded and rocked back on his heels.

  ‘Amongst other things,’ I added.

  He nodded again and began piling the plates and leftovers together.

  ‘How about I tidy this lot up,’ he suggested, ‘and you open that wine?’

  As it was still so warm we sat outside in Jacob’s slightly overgrown garden and I looked at him, wondering where to begin. As lovely as the evening was, I was here on a mission and I didn’t want to leave Ryan alone for too long. I wanted to get back and check that he and Gus were following the ground rules I had set out during dinner to govern the dog’s stay.

  ‘Look,’ I said, putting my glass down on the table, ‘there’s no point beating about the bush, is there? I’ve come to say how sorry I am about what happened last weekend. Ryan told me the truth this afternoon and, well, I don’t know what to say really . . .’

  ‘There’s no need to say anything,’ Jacob began.

  ‘Of course there is. I said some terrible things to you and all on the back of some angry and untrue words my brother had spouted off.’

  Jacob looked at me and smiled.

  ‘What’s so amusing?’ I frowned. ‘Is this all some kind of joke to you?’

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘not at all.’

  ‘What then?’ I demanded. ‘Why didn’t you say anything when Ryan started lying? Does our friendship really mean so little to you that you were prepared to lose it because of some silly teenage tantrum?’

  I had decided I wouldn’t say any of that but Jacob’s infuriating expression had knocked me off guard.

  ‘Of course not,’ he said, finally looking a little more serious. ‘But I knew it was just a tantrum. I could see how angry Ryan was. I’d caught him talking rubbish to Tamsin and he retaliated, aggressively, just as any teenage boy trying to save face would. Me demanding that he told you the truth there and then would have only escalated the situation even further and so I decided to back off.’

  I supposed that made sense.

  ‘I knew the truth would come out in the end,’ he continued, ‘I just had to wait it out.’

  ‘But what about the things I said,’ I reminded him, blushing at the thought.

  ‘They were just proof that you’re an amazing sister.’ He smiled.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You were like a coiled spring,’ he said, laughing, ‘ready to jump to Ryan’s defence without stopping to question what was really going on.’

  That was true. I had been pretty feisty.

  ‘You were like a lion with her cub,’ he carried on. ‘Ryan’s very lucky to have you on his team.’

  My face began to almost burn with heat and it had nothing to do with the evening sun.

  ‘So,’ I said, skirting around the compliment and the unexpected turn the conversation was taking, ‘what did you really say to him?’

  ‘I told him what I told you just now: that he’s lucky to have a sister like you and that he should be grateful that you were prepared to open up your new home and alter your life to accommodate him. I just wanted to give him a bit of a wake-up call and make him think a bit. I know he’s been through hell, is still in it some of the time, but that doesn’t give him the right to talk like that.’

  Thinking back over Ryan’s subsequently impeccable behaviour, I had to accept that Jacob’s words had more than hit their mark. My brother had been the model student, employee, dog-sitter and sibling.

  ‘I see,’ I said, ‘thank you.’

  Jacob raised his glass and clinked it against mine.

  ‘Cheers,’ he said, clearly pleased the strategy had worked.

  ‘So, was it all some cunning plan on your part then?’ I asked. ‘Leaving him to stew.’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘It was a bit risky though, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Not really.’ He sighed. ‘Anyone can see that Ryan’s a good kid at heart. He’s had a far rougher time than most and just needs a guiding hand every now and again to show him the right path and remind him there are folk in the world who really are on his side.’

  ‘I suppose that’s what parents are for,’ I said bitterly.

  ‘And older siblings,’ he reminded me. ‘You’ll see him right.’

  In that moment it felt like one hell of a responsibility and one heck of an ask. I only hoped I was up to the job.

  ‘So,’ I said, ‘am I really forgiven?’

  ‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ he said, leaning forward to refill my glass. ‘I’m pretty certain we’re all of us equally guilty of saying things we don’t mean when we’re hurt or cornered.’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘I know I’ve said some pretty harsh things in my time and had far worse thrown back at me.’

  ‘From your brother?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, his voice thick in his throat, ‘amongst others.’

  We were getting on so well I decided it would be foolish to force the issue.

  ‘Families are hard work,’ I said, trying to sound more generic than specific.

  ‘They can be,’ he agreed, ‘but I just know that you and Ryan are going to be fine and if you want me to, I’m still happy to help out.’

  ‘Really?’ I gulped. My heart was hammering again.

  ‘Really,’ he said. ‘In fact, I’m heading down to the youth centre tomorrow. Tell Ryan I’ll call for him at ten in the morning and to dress in clothes he won’t mind getting covered in paint.’

  This time I leant forward to clink my glass against his, grateful that the week had ended with everything jumping tidily back into place and relieved that our almost-kiss had apparently been forgotten. Jacob seemed far happier in my company than he had at the elderflower gathering, so there was little point risking his good mood by reminding him about it.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, really meaning it.

  ‘That’s what friends are for.’ He smiled.

  I was certainly relieved to have this particular one back again.

  *

  Despite my constant reassurance, Ryan was a bag of nerves the next morning.

  ‘And you’re sure he was all right about everything?’ he asked me for what must have been the hundredth time as he looked out of the sitting room window again.

  ‘Stop worrying,’ I told him, ‘you’ll get Gus in a panic if you carry on like this.’

  It was a cheap trick but it worked. Ryan scooped the little dog – who, in spite of my strictest instructions, had somehow made his way into my brother’s room last night – up into his arms.

  ‘Sorry, pal,’ he said, kissing the top of his head. ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right with him today, sis?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said, an internal little glow sparking into life on hearing the endearment, ‘he’s going to help me in the kitchen.’

  I was going to spend my day off cooking up a storm with Gus for when the lads came back from their day of sanding, priming and painting.

  ‘Oh God,’ said Ryan, transferring the dog to my arms, ‘he’s here. I’ll see you later.’

  He didn’t wait for me to answer the doo
r but rushed out into the Saturday sunshine and straight into a hug from my neighbour, who beamed at me over his shoulder and gave me an encouraging thumbs-up.

  I knew everything was going to be just fine.

  *

  Jacob and Ryan came back at the end of the day tired, grubby and hungry. Jacob headed back to his for a quick shower and, after running about with Gus for a manic twenty minutes of playful re-bonding, Ryan followed suit. He didn’t say much about the centre, but his clothes were testament enough that he’d got stuck in with the paintbrush. If only I could get him to pick up a garden trowel with as much enthusiasm.

  It took us all far less time to lay waste to the Italian feast than it had taken me to prepare it. We sat out in the garden replete and satisfied that our Saturday had been so well spent.

  ‘Crikey, Poppy, you can cook,’ Jacob sighed appreciatively.

  ‘She can’t cook cakes,’ Ryan quickly added, shattering my moment of indulgent self-satisfied smugness. ‘Can you, sis?’

  ‘Thank you, brother,’ I said, sticking out my tongue. ‘It would be arrogant to be brilliant at everything, so I’ve sacrificed cakes, buns and pastries to maintain equilibrium.’

  ‘I won’t ask you to donate anything for the school bake sale we have coming up then,’ Jacob laughed.

  ‘Mark’s your man for sweet treats.’ Ryan sighed wistfully, in spite of his full belly. ‘His cream slices are to die for.’

  ‘How are things at school?’ I asked Jacob. ‘Hannah seemed very nice.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, smiling at the thought of his Miss-Honey-perfect co-worker, ‘she’s lovely. We’re sharing a class at the moment.’

  I didn’t much like the thought of them sharing anything.

  ‘But by the time the September term rolls round I’ll be flying solo.’

  ‘How come?’ I asked. ‘Is she leaving?’

  Ryan looked at me and raised his eyebrows and I wondered just how the question had come across. Had my tone been loaded with hope? I hoped not.

  ‘She’ll be on maternity leave,’ Jacob explained. ‘Her third little one will be coming along soon.’

  I hadn’t noticed a bump but that could be because I had homed in on her perfect features and shining hair.

  ‘How exciting,’ I said enthusiastically.

  ‘I’m not sure her husband would agree with you,’ Jacob laughed. ‘Three kids under eight wouldn’t be my cup of tea.’

  ‘Nor mine,’ I agreed with a shudder.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask Jacob about his views on kids in general, but with Ryan listening in I didn’t want my interest to be misinterpreted, so I bit the query back.

  ‘And how are your class?’ I asked instead.

  ‘Bonkers,’ he told me, ‘but brilliant.’

  ‘Tell her what happened yesterday,’ insisted Ryan, sneakily opening a bottle of beer, which I instantly relieved him of.

  ‘Oh, good grief,’ said Jacob, shaking his head at the memory. ‘It was mad. Over half the class turned up in PJs and onesies with teddy bears tucked under their arms.’

  ‘What?’ I asked. ‘Why?’

  ‘Apparently one of the kids was talking in the playground about us having a cosy day, whatever the hell that is, one of the parents overheard and by the end of the day, thanks to the joys of a Facebook group, word had got round that it was happening Friday, that the letters about it had been misplaced and that the kids would be spending the day reading, cuddling soft toys and generally lazing around on beanbags.’

  ‘No way!’ I gasped.

  ‘I know.’ Jacob joined in, laughing. ‘So, half of the kids turned up at eight thirty in their nightwear and the other half were in tears before the bell went because they knew nothing about it.’

  ‘Because there was nothing to know,’ I chuckled.

  ‘Exactly, and they were stuck in their boring uniforms,’ he sobbed, mimicking what I imagined was supposed to be a sulky child.

  ‘So, what did you do?’ I asked, laughing all the harder.

  ‘Well,’ he explained, now in his own voice, ‘as much as I loved the idea of a cosy day, I couldn’t have half of them lolling about and the rest of them in tears, so I sent them all to get changed into their PE kits and lectured the parents about the dangers of social media.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ I erupted in laughter, clapping my hands together.

  ‘Another example of what happens when a few overheard words get taken out of context, isn’t it?’ said a rather embarrassed Ryan.

  ‘We’ve been through that,’ said Jacob, leaning over to pat Ryan’s shoulder.

  ‘I know,’ he said, ‘but I still feel a bit of a prat about it.’

  ‘Never mind,’ I said, not wanting the conversation to take such a serious turn, ‘it’s all done with now.’

  ‘That’s what I keep telling him,’ said Jacob.

  ‘Why don’t you take Gus for a wander round the green,’ I suggested to Ryan, ‘and Jacob will help me clear up?’

  ‘Excellent idea,’ said Ryan, jumping up, his misdemeanour soon forgotten as he realised he was getting out of the washing up. ‘And I’ll go straight up when I come in, give you two some peace,’ he added with a wink before darting out the door.

  Chapter 18

  Over the next couple of weeks, my life in Nightingale Square settled back to the perfection I had just been beginning to enjoy before Mum’s call about Ryan. In fact, with the addition of my brother and my friendship with Jacob deepening, I would say it was actually better.

  I had finally had a response from the college and was embarrassed to discover that Mum had, in her customary fashion, completely over-egged the Ryan absenteeism situation. Yes, they had been in touch to say that his attendance record was borderline problematic, but it was nowhere near as bad as Mum had made out. The fortnightly meetings were pure fabrication on her part and I kicked myself for not having talked it all through properly with Ryan when he first arrived. It was a lesson learned though; from then on in, I decided, I would face any hiccups head-on.

  Even Colin’s prolonged absence from our patch of Norwich was bearable now that we knew his father’s stroke hadn’t been anywhere near as serious as initially feared, but I still couldn’t wait for him to come back and see what we had done to the Reading Room. The makeover, which had still gone ahead, carried out almost entirely by Ryan under Lou’s clever guidance, was nearly complete and nothing short of miraculous. The paper covering the front windows had been a masterstroke; what was going on behind it was all the locals could talk about.

  In fact, the only person who didn’t seem to be enjoying the excitement was the lady behind the new look, Little Miss Changing Rooms herself.

  ‘What is up with you?’ I asked, handing her a burger from the community garden barbecue when she turned up unannounced on a sunny, Sunday afternoon.

  She looked sadder than I’d ever seen her and it didn’t suit her one little bit. She opened her mouth to answer my brusque question but was interrupted by Lisa, who was noisily clearing her throat, and Neil, who was banging on the table with his cutlery.

  ‘Sorry, everyone,’ said Lisa, looking unusually jittery, ‘we won’t keep you from your food for many seconds. It’s just that there’s been a development with the competition that we need to tell you about.’

  She turned to Neil, who was holding the competition file. He had been elected as Lisa’s second in command on the grounds that he worked from home, so was on hand more often than not, and didn’t have any dependants clamouring for his attention. However, with Mark feeling broodier than ever I wasn’t all that sure how long that particular scenario would last. When I looked along the table I could see he was cooing over baby Abigail while happily holding one of Heather’s boys.

  ‘We’ve had a letter from the council,’ Neil explained. ‘I won’t read the whole thing, but basically, as there have been more than the predicted number of entries to the competition, the council have decided to check them all out before drawing up a sho
rtlist—’

  ‘There’ll be a representative visiting here,’ Lisa couldn’t resist interrupting, ‘in the next few days. They won’t be judging the place at this point. Just checking the application meets the requirements.’

  ‘But the visit will determine whether or not we’ll be put forward,’ Neil carried on. ‘The decision will be made public fairly soon after the inspection and representatives from each garden going forward will then be asked to attend a local radio slot one Saturday morning to explain why their garden is so special and a little about its history.’

  A quiet murmur rippled round the table. I was surprised there had been so many entries, but delighted. Clearly Norwich residents were very much on board with the benefits of gardening and growing.

  ‘In that case,’ said Graham, ‘could everyone please make sure they fulfil their allotted tasks on the rota. I know we’re all very good about it, but now more than ever we need everything to be perfect.’

  ‘We’re not being judged on the garden just yet, Graham,’ Lisa reminded him.

  ‘But even so,’ he said importantly. ‘It will be good to get on top of things.’

  Everyone nodded in agreement and Lou gave a little squeal as her phone began to bleat and vibrate.

  ‘That’s it, folks,’ said Neil, raising his voice as the cacophony cranked up a notch. ‘Enjoy your afternoon, everyone.’

  I waited until Lou had taken the call before pouncing.

  ‘What happened to Indiana?’ I demanded.

  ‘Yes,’ said Jacob, who had been brought up to speed on the hero-hunt and her unusual choice of ringtone. ‘Unless I’m very much mistaken, that was a tune from Grease, wasn’t it?’

  ‘ “You’re the One that I Want”,’ confirmed Ryan as he wandered past, turning puce as we all raised our eyebrows. ‘Or something like that.’ He coughed, rushing off.

  ‘So,’ I said, pulling at Lou’s shirt-sleeve, ‘does that mean you’ve finally found your hero?’

  ‘Of course I have,’ she said with a sniff. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t see it for so long, but with him being away, I’ve really missed him and it’s made me think . . . maybe Colin is the one.’