Summer under the Stars

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Summer under the Stars Page 13

by Catherine Ferguson


  Clearing away, I hear Toby shout, ‘Careful,’ and Chantelle giggling hysterically as he apparently tries to heave her to her feet. I smile to myself, glad he’s escorting her back and I don’t have to. I run hot water onto the dishes in the sink then I quickly shower, slip into the silky shorts and vest top Toby likes to see me in, then dive into bed. After a second, I leap out again and apply a slick of lip gloss, pouting seductively at myself in the mirror. Back in bed, I wait for Toby to return.

  He arrives back twenty minutes later.

  ‘Is she okay?’ I ask, worried she’s been sick or something and poor Toby has had to clear it up.

  He groans, nipping through to the bathroom. ‘You don’t want to know,’ he calls.

  I laugh. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Oh, she kept falling over and then when we finally got back to her tent, she dropped the key to the padlock and we ended up crawling around on the grass trying to find it.’

  ‘But you managed it in the end?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You did it.’

  ‘Did what?’

  I frown. ‘Opened the tent for her?’

  There’s a brief silence. ‘Oh, that. Yes. Yes, of course.’

  ‘So she’s fine now? All tucked up in bed?’

  He appears at the door. ‘Well, I just helped her into the tent and onto the bed. I didn’t exactly tuck her in.’ He looks a bit flushed at the very thought.

  I laugh softly and hold my hand out to him. ‘As long as she’s back safely. Are you coming to bed?’

  ‘Yes. I’m just applying insect repellent. I’m bloody determined those bastard insects aren’t going to get me tonight.’

  He returns and slides into bed naked, and I turn towards him with a smile, recalling the early days of our relationship when the sex was really quite good.

  He feels a little sticky but I wrap my arms around him anyway, my hands tangled in his chest hair.

  ‘Thank God for an early night,’ he murmurs. ‘I’m positively knackered.’

  Two seconds later, he’s snoring gently …

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Unable to sleep after my night of passion that never was, I lie there formulating a plan.

  I’m going to book a night in the local boutique hotel so that Toby has at least one night of luxury. Because he’s working so hard, he really does deserve it. Maybe then, after we’ve had a lovely dinner in the restaurant, we’ll both be feeling relaxed enough to let our hair down and enjoy a properly romantic night together.

  Romance and sex have never been the biggest features of our relationship, but I’m beginning to think that maybe they should at least be higher up the list than liking the same breakfast cereal and me getting on really well with his mum!

  I finally drop off in the early hours. Next morning, when I wake up around eight, I’m surprised to find that Toby’s still in bed beside me. I smile as I watch him sleep. Bless him, he certainly deserves a lie-in after all his early mornings. He’ll probably still want to go into the office, but that doesn’t mean I can’t spoil him with a nice breakfast before he sets off.

  Quietly, so as not to disturb the sleeping beauty, I climb out of bed, slip into my dressing gown and wellies, pull a comb through my hair and go across to Clemmy’s to collect some breakfast pastries.

  She opens the door and seems taken aback to see me.

  ‘Morning, Clemmy! I just wondered if Poppy had delivered her pastries yet?’

  ‘Er … yes.’ She blinks a few times then colour rushes into her cheeks. ‘Yes, come on in.’ She stands back and I follow her through, wondering what’s going on. Clemmy is the sort of person who wears her heart on her sleeve and simply can’t hide what she’s feeling, and she’s definitely behaving a little weirdly this morning. I wonder if it’s Ryan again?

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asks me as she hands over my bag of goodies.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ I say, surprised. Then I realise she’s probably thinking of our abortive trip to Maple Tree House. I frown. ‘Actually, it’s not exactly great news.’ I need to tell her about going back there with Jake and meeting Arabella …

  She groans, cocking her head to one side. ‘Oh, poor you. Do you want to stay and talk about it?’

  ‘I’d love to but I really need to get back. I want to treat Toby to breakfast in bed before he leaves for work.’

  She looks bemused for a second. Then she nods. ‘Right. Excellent. Well, I won’t keep you chatting, then.’

  ‘Thank you!’ I call as I scuttle across the grass, pulling my dressing gown around me. When I turn to wave, she’s staring after me, a far-away look on her face.

  Very odd.

  I’ll catch up with Clemmy later. For now, I need to get breakfast for Toby, wave him off to work then go and see about booking the best room available at the Starlight Hotel. Perhaps I’ll ask them if they’ll put a bottle of champagne in the room. Toby would love that.

  As it turns out, Toby’s planning to work from the campsite today.

  I make coffee and we eat breakfast in bed, abandoning the pastries when Toby smiles and asks me if I’m feeling frisky. We finally have the sort of morning I was looking forward to when I booked the glamping holiday in the first place. This new, more relaxed Toby is quite a surprise but I’m definitely not complaining.

  ‘You should go out for one of your walks,’ he says as we lie entwined in bed later. Toby is trying to motivate himself to get up and do some work but, weirdly, he doesn’t seem as stressed when his mobile rings as he usually is.

  ‘I’m just going to leave it,’ he said, yawning and stretching, when it went off a few minutes ago. ‘If it’s urgent, they’ll phone back.’

  ‘I could always stay here and make you coffee while you work,’ I suggest now with a flirty smile. ‘I could read in the sun. It’s such a gorgeous day.’

  He frowns. ‘I’ll just get distracted if you’re here.’

  I smile mischievously. ‘Is that such a bad thing?’

  He laughs. ‘No. Well, actually, yes, it is – if I’m planning to get any work done, that is.’

  ‘Okay. I see your point. I’ll make myself scarce, no problem.’

  ‘Now I feel terrible.’

  ‘No, honestly, it’s fine. I’d rather be out and about on such a lovely day. It’s just a shame you can’t come with me.’

  He makes a sad face. ‘I know. There’s nothing I’d love more than to come for a walk in the countryside with you. But the boss will kill me if I don’t deliver this report by tomorrow.’

  I play along, nodding in sympathy, even though we both know Toby just told a big fat lie. (I’m quickly realising that on Toby’s list of things he loves doing, a walk in the countryside is probably on roughly the same level as having root canal work done.)

  I’m not too disappointed. I want to go to the hotel to book a room for tomorrow night anyway. So at ten-thirty, I leave Toby propped up on the bed, surrounded by papers, and set off for the hotel.

  To my surprise, I find Clemmy is in reception, talking to the manager, Sylvia.

  Clemmy catches my eye and gives me the same sort of wary look she gave me when I arrived at her door first thing this morning. Then she makes a big show of being delighted to see me, even giving me a hug, which puzzles me even more. She seems to have forgotten that Sylvia is standing there waiting to carry on their conversation.

  ‘Hi, Sylvia. Busy as usual?’ I say with a smile.

  ‘That’s the catering trade for you.’ She smiles ruefully. ‘I never seem to stop.’

  ‘It’s the summer fayre on Saturday,’ Clemmy reminds me, ‘and Sylvia has very kindly offered to provide a refreshment stall next to Poppy’s cake display.’

  ‘Will you and Toby be at the fayre?’ asks Sylvia.

  ‘Yes, we’re planning to be. If he doesn’t have to work.’

  ‘So what are you doing here, Daisy?’ asks Clemmy. ‘Booking dinner in the restaurant?’

  ‘Er, yes, I thought I might.’

>   This is awkward!

  I don’t really want to confess to Clemmy that Toby’s not at all keen on the current living arrangements so I’ve decided to treat him to a properly luxurious stay here in the hotel!

  I smile at Sylvia. ‘If I could have a word?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll be over at the desk.’ She bustles off.

  ‘Right, better get back. I’ve got a dress fitting at twelve,’ says Clemmy, frowning.

  ‘Aren’t you looking forward to it?’ I ask, surprised.

  She shrugs. ‘Poppy was going to come with me but Keira has a cold and she’s taking her to the doctor’s. And Gloria and Ruby are going out for the day with Ryan’s Uncle Bob.’

  ‘I could come to the dress fitting with you. If you like,’ I offer.

  Clemmy’s eyes widen. ‘You would? Oh, that would be fab!’ She gives a rueful grin. ‘It’s just I’m sure I’ve put on weight again, which means the dress will have to be taken out. I could do with your company to cheer me up.’

  I nod. ‘I’d love to come with you.’

  ‘Why don’t I drive you over to see Auntie Joan? She’s been having trouble getting hold of you, I suppose because of the stupid mobile signal. But she’s dying to see you. And she might be able to tell you more about your adoption – if your mum told her about it.’

  ‘Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that.’ I start distractedly playing with a button on my cardigan, the thought of having a big emotional chat about Mum immediately stirring panic within.

  ‘Why not? I’d like to. I know how I’d feel in your situation. I’d be desperate to find out the truth.’

  My heart is beating in my throat, adrenalin rushing through my veins at the thought of speaking to Joan. Clemmy’s right. She could have the answers I need about my adoption. Maybe – just maybe – she’ll be able to shed some light on the mysterious handbag.

  In a flash, my decision to forget about the search is overturned.

  I smile at Clemmy. ‘Okay. Thank you.’

  ‘Great.’ She looks really pleased. ‘And I can update you on the wedding shenanigans.’ She groans, shaking her head. ‘The relatives are driving me up the wall over the table plan.’

  Her fed-up expression makes me laugh.

  ‘See you later, then.’

  I watch her go, then I catch up with Sylvia who’s now chatting to the receptionist about covers for this evening.

  ‘I was hoping to book a room for Friday night? It’s a surprise for Toby. He’s not enjoying the glamping very much, so I thought I’d treat him to a night here. The rooms look gorgeous on your website.’

  She frowns. ‘Oh dear, I think we’re fully booked. Wait a moment, please.’

  After an exchange with the receptionist, she comes over and murmurs, ‘We are fully booked but there’s a room on the top floor that we keep in reserve. It’s smallish but it has a four-poster bed, a free-standing bath and a balcony overlooking the lake?’

  ‘It sounds gorgeous,’ I gasp. ‘But are you sure you can fit us in?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Don’t worry about that.’

  ‘It sounds marvellous. As long as we’re not putting you out?’

  Sylvia smiles. ‘Not in the least. All you have to do is have a splendid time with your Toby.’

  ‘Well, thank you.’ My spirits rise, thinking I might still be able to make this a memorable birthday for Toby. ‘I really appreciate it.’

  ‘Well, all relationships need a little help at times. Not that I’m any sort of an expert, I’m afraid.’

  There’s a wistful look in her eyes and I find myself wondering if there’s ever been a Mr Sylvia. Would you ever have time for a relationship if you were running a hotel like this single-handedly?

  It makes me think about how much I’d love to settle down and have a family of my own. If I’m honest, being welcomed into Toby’s large family was a bit of an eye-opener for me. I never expected to feel such a lovely sense of warmth and cosy familiarity ever again – not after Mum died. But they accepted me almost immediately as one of their own. Toby might think it’s all a bit full-on and chaotic – being part of a big family – but to me, it seems like bliss.

  ‘You can check in any time after three on Friday,’ says Sylvia. ‘It’ll be all ready for you. And for your dinner reservation, I’ll make sure you get the table in the window that overlooks the lake. Very romantic on a clear night with the moon shining on the water.’ She smiles a little wistfully.

  ‘Lovely. Thank you so much.’

  The receptionist comes over with a question for her and I say goodbye and head out.

  There’s a poster on the wall by the entrance, advertising wedding packages, and as I walk out into the brilliant sunshine, I have a sudden vision of a church and wedding bells. I’m emerging arm in arm with Toby to the flutter of confetti, and his mum is rushing over with tears in her eyes to draw me into a hug, officially welcoming me into the family.

  I hate the thought of a wedding day without Mum. But Rosalind will be there to soothe away my fears …

  Having booked the room for Friday night, I feel a burst of optimism about my love life. I decide against going over to see Jake later. I’ll be out with Clemmy this afternoon anyway. I’ll send him the manuscript but it’s probably not a good idea to spend any more time with him …

  Not wanting to examine why it wouldn’t be a good idea, I focus instead on Toby. Thanks to Sylvia, there’s no reason why we can’t have a wonderful night on Friday.

  I’ll make sure Toby has the best birthday ever.

  *

  ‘God, I knew it!’ Clemmy breathes in desperately as the assistant tries to ease up the zip on her glorious cream satin and lace wedding dress. ‘It’s not going to fit.’

  ‘It’s totally gorgeous, though, and it’s hardly a drastic alteration,’ I point out. Personally, I think Clemmy suits her curves, and if that’s what I think, then I’m certain her fiancé has no complaints.

  The assistant shakes her head. ‘I wouldn’t worry. A slight alteration at this stage is quite normal.’

  ‘Except it’s usually brides losing weight with excitement, not putting it on with double chocolate muffins. I blame Poppy.’ Clemmy tries to laugh it off but I can see the stress in her face. She looks exhausted, as if she hasn’t slept properly for days. I have a feeling the little bit of extra weight is the least of her worries.

  ‘You look absolutely stunning in that dress,’ I tell her as we leave the shop, and she gives me a wistful smile. ‘Let me buy you a coffee. Where’s a good place?’

  She points at a coffee shop over the road.

  Endeavouring to cheer her up, I say, ‘Seriously, Ryan is going to think every one of his birthdays – plus a good few Christmases – have all come at once, seeing you walking down the aisle towards him.’

  ‘I love him so much, it hurts, Daisy,’ she murmurs, turning slightly puffy eyes towards me as we cross the road. ‘But the thing is, there’s always been this little voice in my head telling me he’s too good for me.’

  ‘What? But that’s rubbish.’

  She shakes her head. ‘I don’t mean that I’m a minger or anything. I’m actually quite happy in my own skin. It’s just Ryan is so gorgeous in every single way and I can’t help wondering sometimes why the hell he’s bothering with boring old me when he could have anyone he wanted.’ She forces a laugh as if to say she knows she’s being pathetic.

  ‘Whoa! Hold on there.’ I shake my head at her. ‘First, you’re definitely not boring, Clemmy. You’re funny, you’re beautiful and you’ve got the kindest heart of anyone I’ve ever known.’

  Her eyes fill with sheepish tears but I rush on. ‘And second, it’s because you love Ryan so much that you think he’s gorgeous in every way, isn’t it? So if Ryan is in love with you – and he’s asked you to marry him so it’s a pretty fair bet that he does – the chances are that he also thinks you are perfect in every way!’

  She sniffs. ‘But I asked him,’ she says in a small voice. ‘I was the one
who proposed.’

  I shrug. ‘And Ryan said yes! Didn’t he?’

  She nods. ‘You’re right, I know. I’m just being daft.’

  ‘Of course you are. You’re about to marry the man of your dreams. How lucky are you! If I were in your position, I’d be on top of the world!’

  Her expression changes suddenly. She peers at me intently. ‘Would you?’

  ‘If Toby asked me to marry him? Um – of course I would!’

  I falter slightly over my answer. I’ve never considered how I’d feel if Toby proposed. But it would definitely be a good thing, wouldn’t it?

  She closes her eyes and swallows. ‘Daisy, there’s something I need to tell you—’

  We’re entering the coffee shop and our conversation is interrupted by a couple of women getting up from their table. One of them smiles at us and indicates that they’re leaving if we’d like their prime spot by the window.

  ‘Do you want to sit down, Clem, and I’ll get the coffees.’ I turn to Clemmy but she’s staring over at the counter, a stunned look on her face.

  ‘What is it?’ I ask, far too loudly, following her eyes.

  ‘Ryan,’ she whispers.

  Sure enough, he’s standing at the counter, his back to us. He’s chatting to a tall, slender blonde-haired girl, their heads close together. As we watch, he nudges her playfully and she looks up into his eyes and laughs. They break apart when the assistant asks what they’d like. Clemmy grabs my hand and pulls me out of the café. Every last drop of colour has drained from her face.

  ‘Do you know who she is?’ I ask, my heart beating uncomfortably fast.

  She shakes her head. ‘Never seen her before in my life. But Ryan clearly knows her very well.’

  ‘There’s probably a perfectly innocent explanation,’ I tell her gently. ‘You should talk to him tonight.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because he’s at a two-day conference in Paris. He’s flying out there this afternoon. He’ll be back on Saturday.’ She turns bewildered eyes on me. ‘At least, that’s what he told me.’

 

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