Summer under the Stars: A romantic comedy that will have you laughing out loud this summer.

by Catherine Ferguson

  A cloud of despair settles over my head. I wish I could be the sort of person who inspires the kind of enduring devotion Jake so obviously feels for Laura. I thought Toby felt that way about me. I fooled myself into imagining he was the rock I could always rely on. How wrong could I be?

  I think of Rosalind’s reaction when she finds out Toby and I have split up, and a wave of unbearable sadness washes over me. Rosalind will be devastated. She was already joking about buying a hat …

  What will happen to our friendship?

  Rosalind is Toby’s mum so of course she’s bound to be loyal to her son. I can’t see how our friendship will be able to continue under the circumstances. So I’m not only losing my relationship, I’m losing the whole happy future I envisaged as part of Toby’s family …

  Suddenly, it’s all too much. Laying my head on my arms, I start to sob, and Clemmy jumps up and puts her arms around me.

  I’m not even sure what I’m weeping for. Everything, I suppose.

  My wrecked relationship. A glamping holiday that’s ended in disaster. Being plagued by thoughts of kissing Jake and what that implies. His grief over Laura. Finding that a woman called Arabella might actually be my biological mum but secretly hoping it’s not true.

  It’s all those things, I realise, but there’s a bigger, much more powerful reason for this deluge of sorrow that I no longer have the strength to stem.

  I’m crying for Mum.

  For the first time since she died, I’m allowing myself to feel the raw edge of my grief, instead of automatically swerving away from it. If she were still here, she’d hug me tightly, wrapping me up in her love and telling me that Toby was never good enough for me anyway.

  But she’s not here and the pain of my loss is overwhelming.

  There’s an empty cavern inside me that I wanted Toby and his family to fill. But no one can ever replace my mum. That’s the brutal truth and I can see it now. Even the search for my biological mother now seems like simply a desperate attempt to fill the frightening void in my life.

  ‘I miss my mum so much,’ I whisper and Clemmy’s arms tighten around me. I’ve never felt so glad of another human being’s touch. I feel safe enough in Clemmy’s care to sob for Mum until there are no tears left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Next morning, I wake feeling exhausted as if I’ve had no sleep at all.

  Sitting in the kitchen in a bit of a daze, I’m watching Clemmy make tea when the doorbell rings. Clemmy shoots me a glance then dries her hands and goes to answer it.

  Hearing the mumbled voices in the hallway, my stomach drops.

  Toby.

  I really don’t want to face him right now.

  Hopefully, Clemmy will send him packing, because if he’s come to apologise and somehow try to explain away his actions, I’m really not interested. He’s hurt me too much for me to ever contemplate forgiving him.

  I can tell Clemmy is trying to head him off but Toby seems adamant he needs to speak to me. Feeling like I’m making trouble for Clemmy – who’s got her own problems with Ryan to handle – I swiftly get up and go to the door. I probably look as if I’ve had my face painted for Hallowe’en with my puffy eyes and all the mascara smudges, but I don’t care. When he sees the devastating effect this has had on me, hopefully he’ll feel even more guilty for betraying me …

  He looks up as I enter the hallway. ‘Daisy. Are you all right?’

  I exchange a glance with Clemmy. ‘Erm, not great, Toby. As you can imagine.’

  He glances down. ‘No. Of course.’

  ‘Where’s the lovely Chantelle?’ I ask, walking towards him, as Clemmy makes a discreet exit, back into the kitchen.

  Looking up, he sighs. ‘Look, Daisy, I don’t know how the hell it happened but I never meant it to. Something – I don’t know – weird came over me.’

  ‘Oh, well that’s all right then,’ I snap.

  He ignores this. ‘She’s not even my type. It was just – I don’t know what it was – a moment of …’ He looks around for inspiration.

  ‘Madness?’ I supply the word, thinking of the irony. At least my moment of madness was over before it had barely begun and was regretted by both parties.

  Toby obviously has regrets, too. But however much he might want to undo what happened, I’m not sure I could ever look at him again without visualising him with Chantelle in the most compromising position ever.

  ‘Madness,’ he repeats. ‘Yes, exactly!’ There’s a strange light in his eyes. ‘It was a sort of madness, Daisy. I’m so glad you understand because, to tell you the truth, I was dreading coming over here. I would never want to hurt you. You know that. I think you’re brilliant in every way.’ He holds out his arms, his face full of love and … happiness?

  I stare at him, remaining rooted to the spot.

  Does he really think I’ve forgiven him already?

  ‘Hug? Please?’ He gives me the benefit of his charming smile.

  I sigh. ‘Look, Toby. If you’ve come here to tell me how much you regret what happened and to persuade me that we can put it all behind us and carry on as before, I’m afraid it’s a no.’ I shake my head, determined to stand my ground, whatever excuses he starts coming up with for his appalling behaviour.

  His eyes widen. ‘Oh, I don’t regret it.’

  The world stops for a moment.

  I stare at him. Did he just say what I thought he said?

  Perhaps he means he doesn’t regret the thing with Chantelle because it’s made him realise how much I mean to him?

  He’s shaking his head sadly. ‘The thing is, Daisy, when you find true love, there’s really no way you can resist its power. You just have to go with it. That’s what I said to Chantelle.’

  ‘You said what to Chantelle?’ I snap, unable to believe my ears. Is he stupid or something?

  Toby smiles serenely at the mention of his lover’s name. ‘Chantelle felt bad about you. She wanted us to go our separate ways. She wanted to pretend the spark between us never erupted into the raging flames of all-consuming love. But I told her you wouldn’t want that.’

  ‘I wouldn’t?’ I swallow, wondering if this is a joke. Perhaps a cameraman is about to jump out of the bushes and ask me if I want to be on a brand-new prime-time reality comedy show called Gotcha!

  Toby gives an earnest shake of the head. ‘No, you wouldn’t. I told her you’re a truly loving, understanding sort of person and that you’d be really pleased for us both. And that we actually owed it to you to make a real go of it together.’ He shrugs in a philosophical manner. ‘There’s just nothing you can do when you fall in love at first sight, is there?’

  His question jerks me out of my stunned state.

  ‘Well, you could try keeping your cock in your pants until you’ve informed your current girlfriend of your change of heart,’ I blurt out, trying to push him out of the door. ‘Goodbye, Toby. I hope you and Chantelle have a wonderful life together.’

  I catch sight of Chantelle peering out of our tent doorway.

  Pulling Toby back in towards me, I treat him to a full-on snog, grabbing his bum in the process.

  Toby goes limp with shock for a moment then he starts struggling to get away, twisting round anxiously to look at Chantelle, who’s now come out of the tent and is standing with her hands on her substantial hips.

  ‘Just letting you know what you’ll be missing,’ I trill with a cheerful smile. ‘Have a nice life.’

  Hustling him off the doorstep, I slam the door in his face.

  As soon as he’s gone, Clemmy comes out of hiding.

  ‘Sorry, I really didn’t mean to listen, but …’ She shakes her head in disbelief. ‘What a spud.’

  ‘A massive spud.’ I nod in wholehearted agreement, then I frown. ‘What’s a spud?’

  Clemmy smiles. ‘It’s Ruby’s expression. Apparently in Newcastle it means a completely clueless person.’

  I sigh. ‘Well, Toby’s that all right. Imagine coming over here and waxing lyrical
about finding love with bloody Chantelle!’

  ‘Unbelievable.’

  ‘Bastard.’

  She nods, looking suddenly nervous. ‘I … God, I wish I’d had a chance to tell you that time in the café. But then I saw Ryan with that girl and it went right out of my head.’

  ‘Tell me what?’ I ask, puzzled.

  She sighs. ‘That night Chantelle was in your tent. You must have all had dinner together?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘I happened to be looking out of the window when Toby was walking her back to her tent. She looked pretty drunk.’

  I nod. ‘She was. She’d had about a gallon of red wine.’

  ‘Well, she staggered to the ground, dragging him with her. And they … well, they didn’t get up for quite a while after that.’

  I make a face. ‘Ugh. What a thought.’ Inside, I’m dying a little bit more. ‘He told me they had trouble getting the tent open. That’s why he was such a long time. And, like a bloody fool, I believed him.’

  Clemmy shrugs. ‘You’re not the fool. Toby is. For taking you for granted.’

  ‘Thank you for that.’ I smile wistfully and wander over to the window that overlooks the camp. The tents look beautiful from here. Little palaces of elegance and luxury. ‘It’s really gorgeous, you know. What you’ve achieved here.’

  Clemmy joins me at the window. ‘We were planning to expand the business, put more tents in the adjoining field. Ryan was going to start working for himself so that he could be here to help with the glamping. But now …’ She trails off sadly.

  ‘Talk to him tomorrow when he gets back from the conference,’ I tell her firmly. ‘Everything will be fine, I’m sure of it.’

  She nods. Then she points out of the window. ‘Look!’

  Toby is emerging from our tent, lugging his case, a sports bag and his laptop over the grass to his car. As we watch, he loads the boot then walks over to Chantelle’s tent, emerging a moment later with two lurid pink cases and wearing a bright yellow Donald Duck neck pillow. Chantelle totters out and stands watching while he packs her belongings alongside his, taking his usual time making sure they fit in there perfectly. At one point she tries to help but he holds out his hands in a ‘stop’ sign, and Chantelle steps back, folding her arms a little sulkily.

  ‘I’ve probably had a lucky escape,’ I say gloomily.

  ‘I didn’t like to say so.’

  Clemmy turns and, in spite of everything, we smile.

  *

  Later, I lie on the bed in the tent, staring up at the slanted pale ceiling, hugging one of the squashy cream pillows. Toby’s forgotten to pack his wash bag. It’s lying on the bed and I reach my foot over and kick it onto the floor.

  What will he do without his special shower gel, I wonder bitterly.

  For good measure, I lean over and pick up the flowers he bought me, hurling the vase onto the floor to join the wash bag. The pottery jug smashes and water goes everywhere. I stare at the mess. I’ll have to buy Clemmy another jug.

  Exhausted, I sink back against the pillows.

  I need to move forward and forget I ever met Toby. Or his family.

  I’d love to think Rosalind and I could keep in touch, but what are the chances? It would be far too messy.

  Toby will probably be halfway back to Manchester by now, with the lovely Chantelle in tow. They’ll no doubt be congratulating themselves on their good fortune at having found each other, and Toby will be planning to introduce her to his family, just as he did with me. Will Rosalind take to Chantelle like she warmed to me?

  I swallow down the emotion that’s threatening to swamp me. I need to stop thinking about things like that because it doesn’t do me any good to—

  Hearing the sound of rustling footsteps outside, I sit up straight and tilt my ear to the door. Oh God, Toby must have come back for his wash bag. Well, he’s not getting in! I have no desire at all to listen to him prattling on about how the stars aligned in the heavens to bring him and the wondrous Chantelle together …

  He clears his throat.

  ‘Bugger off, Toby. I mean it. You’re not getting in!’ I pick up his wash bag, go to the door and open the flap just a few inches. Then I launch the bag at him through the gap with as much force as I can muster, hoping the million-pound shower balm doesn’t survive the shaking up. It’s childish, I know, but you have to find the upside in situations like these.

  ‘OUCH,’ calls a deep voice that definitely isn’t Toby’s.

  I freeze in horror.

  What the hell is Jake doing here?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Before answering him, I leap to the mirror to check my make-up isn’t too disastrous.

  A creature stares back at me, all bare and exposed with puffy eyes and a slightly reddened face. My make-up has apparently been completely washed away by the copious tears of earlier.

  I consider pretending I’m not here, but the wash bag missile is a bit of a give-away, so reluctantly, I unzip further and peer out.

  Jake is standing with the bag balanced on his upturned hand, a questioning look on his face. ‘Are you okay?’

  I snatch back the bag, feeling a blush spreading upwards. ‘Yes, thank you. Sorry about that. I thought you were …’

  ‘Toby. Yes.’ His eyes rake over my face. ‘Did I come at a bad time?’ He looks over his shoulder as if he thinks Toby might appear at any moment to claim his property.

  ‘A bad time?’ I snort, feeling flustered and as vulnerable as a new-born calf standing there in the old T-shirt I normally wear for bed. I tug at the hemline, which is halfway up my thighs. ‘You could say that.’

  ‘Had an argument?’ He frowns, his eyes flicking to my bare legs for just a second.

  Sighing, I open my mouth to tell him about finding Toby rolling around with Chantelle. Then I close it again. I feel hurt and humiliated, and the last thing I need right now is Jake feeling sorry for me. I can’t bear him to know the truth. That I’m not attractive enough or fascinating enough to keep a boyfriend from straying to the tent next door.

  So instead, I force a laugh and say airily, ‘Oh, just a little tiff. Toby will be back any moment with his tail between his legs.’

  ‘Right.’ His eyes turn to flint and he looks away. Then he glances at something behind me and I groan inwardly. The smashed flower vase. I should have cleared it up.

  Suddenly, I spot he has something with him.

  ‘My cardigan! You brought my cardigan back! I didn’t lose it after all!’ He holds it up and I take it in my arms, hugging it in delighted relief as tears spring to my eyes.

  ‘I knew you’d be missing it.’

  His eyes catch mine and hold, and I wonder if he’s remembering the moment we last saw one another, when we were kissing. A shiver runs through me. He has such a beautiful mouth …

  I dash away the tears. ‘It was my mum’s. I thought I’d lost it forever. Sorry.’ Turning away, I fish out a paper hanky and blow my nose.

  ‘Hey, don’t apologise. I’ve still got Laura’s reading glasses on my desk at home. They remind me how quirky and wise she was, and they make me smile.’

  I nod, understanding, although his words make me feel bleak inside.

  So Laura had style and wisdom, as well as the sort of magical presence that meant no man would ever stray from her …

  ‘Do you want to come in?’ I ask doubtfully, glancing down at my T-shirt.

  ‘No, no. Toby will be back.’ He half glances round.

  I shrug. ‘Probably not for a while.’

  He hesitates and my heart starts racing.

  ‘Maybe for a minute, then?’ He slides his hands in his jeans pockets, looking oddly vulnerable. Not like the confident, self-assured Jake I’m used to.

  ‘Of course.’ I usher him in, feeling strangely breathless at his nearness. ‘Mind the vase.’

  He steps sideways to avoid it and we collide. I slide a little in the spilt water and he grabs my waist to steady me.

  For
a long moment, time seems to stand still as I stare up into those mesmerising dark eyes. The firm touch of his hands is having a disturbing effect on me, just like last time. Little pulses of longing ripple through my entire body, making me desperately want to do what I swore I would never do again – launch myself against him and kiss him until I’ve no breath left and my lips are raw.

  His eyes seem darker than ever, locked on mine, and I feel like I’m diving ever deeper into them …

  Then Jake draws in a ragged breath and steps back, pushing his hand through his tawny hair.

  And reality hits.

  I can’t believe I’m feeling these things with Jake when I just split up with Toby a few hours ago! What sort of weird, mixed-up person does this make me?

  ‘Sorry.’ Jake’s gaze moves around the tent and I realise he’s avoiding my eye. ‘I’d better go. Toby …’

  I swallow hard. ‘Yes.’

  He moves towards the tent flap and panic grips me. Is he just going to walk away?

  I don’t want him to go!

  He turns and looks at me, and his eyes are burning with such feeling, it stops my breath for a second.

  He raises his hand. ‘Bye, Daisy.’

  And then he’s gone.

  *

  After Jake has gone, I lie on the bed again, staring up at the ceiling.

  I can see it all so clearly now.

  I never felt the raw physical attraction for Toby that I feel for Jake and now I understand why. Toby was my shelter. My port in the storm. He was never meant to be the great love of my life. But as long as he was with me, I could tell myself that I had a future; that I wouldn’t be on my own.

  Looked at in that light, I can see why Toby would be turning cartwheels at finding a woman like Chantelle who’s probably attracted to him for all the right reasons.

  But where does it leave me? Now that my desperate hopes of belonging to a real family again have come crashing down?

  I’m alone. And I need to face up to that.

  Put starkly, I’m an orphan – and no amount of lovely Rosalinds are going to fill the gap left by Mum, however much I wish they could. Even meeting my birth mum couldn’t do that. I need to drag myself out of this pit of despondency and start focusing on the future. A future on my own …