you in a sec.’
The light tip-tap of excitable feet greeted him, followed by Poppy, her green eyes sparkling with excitement.
‘This place is perfect. The kitchen’s great. You’ll love it. The office is a little small, but I’m sure we can take turns in there to have our cups of tea when we’re on break, or eat our lunch, or whatever. Or we could squeeze in together if you don’t mind getting cuddly with me. The toilet could do with a scrub, but I think we can get Joe or Sophie to do that. Whoever’s annoying us most at any given time.’
‘We heard that,’ Sophie sniped over her shoulder, before turning back to her brother, who had his eyes glued on his phone, his fingers tapping away furiously.
‘You were meant to.’ Poppy’s smile didn’t falter. ‘It’s my not-so-subtle way of telling you not to annoy us. And to do that you need to do as you’re told, when you’re told, and to not walk around with that grimace on your face. You’ll scare off the customers.’ Ignoring the grunt from Sophie’s direction, Poppy focused on Ben. ‘So, Ben, have you signed the papers? Does it look good? Are you happy with everything? Do you think we could have this place up and running in a week or two?’
Ben set the papers down, closed his eyes and took a breath. This was too much, too fast. This was pure Poppy. All go, no slow. ‘Poppy.’ He opened his eyes and took her by the shoulders. ‘I’m not sure about this. You and me, running a business in the same room? It’s a recipe for disaster.’
‘Piffle.’ Poppy shook her head, sending her signature black braid swinging. ‘We used to make a great team. Aced all the school projects we did together. And sure, we got into a little trouble here and there…’
‘Because of you,’ Ben asserted, hoping to remind her that her past follies hadn’t been forgotten. Even if they had quickly been forgiven.
‘Yes, well, I was younger. Now I’m not. Look, I’ve got the money.’ She pulled out her phone and began swiping furiously. ‘I have an app that I can show you. I’ve been saving every penny I can for a couple of years now.’ She went to lift her phone, but Ben held up his hand, stopping her.
‘It’s not that I don’t think you have the money. You could get the money in a second, even if you didn’t. Your mother, your family, isn’t exactly poor…’
Poppy’s smile disappeared, the line of her jaw sharpened. Ben inwardly cursed himself. Poppy’s mother may have been a successful artist, and the family she came from may have been well off, but that didn’t mean Poppy was a pampered princess who was given everything her heart desired. His home had shared a wall with Poppy’s, and he’d heard the raised voices when she and her mother had argued, followed by the door slamming.
What had gone on at the Taylor household to cause so much friction, he had no idea; Poppy and her often red-rimmed eyes had refused to speak of it, but he knew enough to know that the relationship she had with her mother wasn’t the kind where you asked for money. Or, come to think of it, where you’d turn up on the doorstep after twelve years away expecting your old room back.
And maybe that meant he needed to put his misgivings on pause, to trust Poppy. For all her youthful transgressions she’d come home with a plan, with money to execute that plan, and she’d been the one to find a way to reduce the rent on the space, while hiring two helping hands who she had managed to wrangle into submission with just a few words and the lightest of warnings.
‘The thing is, Poppy, what do you know about running a business? It’s a big ask to expect me to just leap into this with you. There’s a lot of risk involved…’
‘And I know how much you hate taking risks, which is why I’m not making you take any. Like I said, I have the money. And while I’ve never owned a business I’ve worked in plenty. I’ve even been put in charge of a couple. Look, Ben. I’m offering a solution. The rent’s lower. We’ve got two people over there who, despite their surly and disinterested demeanours, I think could actually be quite helpful. More importantly, we’ve got each other. We can make anything work.’ Poppy took his hands in hers and gave them a shake. ‘Come on. Trust me. But trust me quick. Look outside.’
Ben twisted round to see a couple hanging around the shop’s front window, their noses all but pressed to the window.
‘Monty said it was ours, but if they’re willing to pay the full amount…’ Poppy let the sentence hang, her eyebrows raised.
Damn it. She was right. And he wanted this place. Had done since he saw the advertisement. The exposed bricks, the polished floorboards, the simple but chic décor. It was perfect for a gourmet tea shop. ‘Fine. Pass me the pen.’ He took in a deep breath as he scrawled his name, and prayed he wasn’t making a mistake.
‘Fantastic.’ Poppy scooped the papers up from under him. ‘Monty. We’re all signed up.’ She passed the papers to their new landlord then half-danced, half-skipped her way to the front door, opened it and flapped her hands at the would-be tenants. ‘Sorry, shop’s gone. Good luck with your search. Have a fab day.’ She twisted round and rubbed her hands together. ‘Right. What are we waiting for? We’ve got two shops to open. Sophie? Joe? Consider this your last day of freedom. Be here tomorrow morning at nine sharp.’ Poppy turned her attention back to Ben. ‘As for you and I, let’s get the keys and you can take me to my new abode, and we’ll nut things out there over a bottle of something yummy. My treat.’
***
‘Well, this wasn’t what I expected.’ Ben did a slow three-sixty as he took in Poppy’s new home, tucked away on the top floor of a terraced house that had been converted into flats. The open-plan living and dining area was on the small side, with just enough room for the two-seater couch, coffee table and dining suite. Through an open door he spotted a bed, and another door, which presumably led to the en-suite. Despite its cosiness, it was surprisingly elegant, with white-washed wooden floors throughout, walls painted in a soft grey, and the architraves and skirtings in a fresh white. ‘It must be a relief that you were able to rent it furnished.’ Ben ran his hand over the cream knotted throw that lay over the soft chestnut-coloured leather couch.
‘Yeah, well, I knew I wanted to hit the ground running when I arrived, so it just made sense to find a place that was all set up for me.’ Poppy grabbed the bottle of sauvignon blanc she’d picked up on their way home and cracked the lid. ‘Screw tops. How did we ever live without them?’
‘My father calls them the work of the devil.’ Ben rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and shook his head.
Poppy’s laughter filled the space, light and free. ‘Why does that not surprise me?’ She sloshed the wine into two glasses and passed one to Ben. ‘So, what made you do such a U-turn? Upping and leaving a safe, secure job in order to start your own business venture? That’s not the Ben I grew up with. And, how is your father taking it?’
Ben swirled the wine round, creating a miniature maelstrom. He inwardly grimaced; it was the perfect symbol for the current state of his life. ‘He’s taking it as well as you’d expect. Dad can’t get his head around me wanting something other than what he wants for me, if that makes sense. All these years and we’ve shared the law. Bonded over it. Now… I’m doing what makes me happy. Pursuing a career that fills me with joy in here…’ He tapped his heart. ‘A career that excites me. I think Dad sees that as a betrayal. Hell, I know he does.’ He took a sip of wine, hoping to wash away the grief that had created a knot in his throat. ‘We’re not really talking right now. Mum’s trying to mediate, but…’
‘She’s wasting
