Summer at the Lakeside Cabin. Catherine Ferguson

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СКАЧАТЬ an ordinary Sunday morning in Appley Green.

       Any one of these women could be my birth mother!

      I want to tell Toby. But something is stopping me.

      I think I’m worried that, if I tell anyone, it will all become overwhelmingly real and then there’ll be no going back. I’ll have to go with it and search for the truth.

      But that’s where my biggest fear of all lies.

      Because what if I search for the truth and it’s not the fairy tale I want? What if my birth mother had me adopted simply because she didn’t want me?

       What if I turn up on her doorstep and she rejects me all over again?

      ‘Daisy?’ Toby sounds tense. ‘Earth to Daisy.’

      I swing round. ‘Sorry, what?’

      ‘You need to direct me. I spotted a sign for a Michelin-starred manor house hotel back there if that’s any help?’ He looks at me hopefully and my heart sinks.

      ‘Try next left.’ I point at a looming sign announcing ‘Glamping’ in bold letters.

      Toby looks at the sign and chuckles. ‘You and your little jokes.’ He shakes his head at me as if he’s the patient adult and I’m the naughty, wayward child. ‘So?’ He glances over expectantly, as if at any moment I’m going to shout, ‘Hah! Had you fooled! No, of course we’re not going glamping for a week. Not when there’s a posh manor house hotel with a couple of Michelin stars and an award-winning spa back there!’

       This is awful.

      What was I thinking, booking something that really is just one step up from a Boy-Scouts-round-the-campfire-back-to-nature sort of trip? I suppose I was carried away with how romantic the photos looked.

      ‘Toby, turn left, please. This is the surprise.’

      He looks startled, and having been about to drive straight past the turn-off, brakes suddenly and turns off. Then he drives slowly along the narrow road, looking from left to right as if he can’t quite believe where he is.

      We approach an impressive-looking chalet-type building on the left. It looks spacious and very handsome and there’s a sign saying ‘The Log Fire Cabin’.

      Toby slows almost to a standstill, staring up at it admiringly. ‘Very nice.’ He nods in approval. ‘So come on, Daisy, this is where we’re really going, isn’t it? A beautiful chalet overlooking a lake. Have we got butler service?’

      Irritation breaks through my feelings of guilt.

      Butler bloody service? I haven’t exactly got money to burn! Although to be fair, Toby did offer to pay for it himself.

      ‘No butler service but I promise I’ll wait on you hand and foot on your birthday.’ I force a cheery tone. ‘We’re going glamping, Toby!’

      I perform a cheery ta-dah with my hands in the direction of the glamping sign up ahead.

      There’s silence from the birthday boy as he stares at the sign.

      I take a breath and launch in. ‘It looks absolutely gorgeous on the website. Honestly, I think you’re going to love it. The tents – er, the dwellings – have got a proper loo and a kitchen and everything. Even a log-burning stove! And we can always head to the supermarket and splash out on a good bottle of champagne.’

      Champagne actually gives me indigestion but anything to put a smile on Toby’s face.

      Toby turns the car slowly into the parking area for Clemmy’s Lakeside Glamping, switches off the engine and nods at a small but perfectly formed house nearby. ‘Nice architecture.’

      I nod in agreement. It’s in the same style as the Log Fire Cabin that we just passed but on a smaller scale. This one is called, not very imaginatively, ‘Lakeside View’.

      Toby looks over the expanse of grass towards the lake, at the elegant structures with their exotic air of a Bedouin tent. He nods slowly, gazing around him, and my heart lifts a little.

      Perhaps it’s going to be fine, after all.

      Toby swings round. ‘What about Wi-Fi? I must have Wi-Fi.’

      I nod and he visibly relaxes. ‘Thank God. I don’t mind where I stay as long as I can keep in touch with the office.’

      He sees my crestfallen face and adds hurriedly, ‘Not that this isn’t … great!’

      A tall girl in jeans and T-shirt with chestnut red hair and a curvy figure is walking towards us.

      ‘This is my old friend, Clemmy,’ I tell Toby, my heart lifting at her warm smile of welcome. ‘Let’s go and say hello.’

      ‘Oh, Daisy,’ she says. ‘I was so sorry to hear about your mum.’ She draws me into a big hug, squeezing me tight, and I cling on to her, my eyes suddenly wet with tears. ‘Auntie Joan is devastated. But she’s so looking forward to seeing you.’ She smiles across at Toby. ‘Both of you.’

      After the introductions, Clemmy walks us over to our tent, which turns out to be even more beautiful than I imagined it would be.

      Even Toby seems impressed.

      ‘This is amazing,’ he says, looking around him. ‘I can’t believe the level of style and comfort you’ve achieved here.’ He wanders over to the wood-burning stove and runs a finger over the top of it, absent-mindedly checking for dust. (He blames dust mites for his highly sensitive nasal passages.)

      Clemmy beams. ‘I’m so glad you like it. I wanted to get the feel of a really first-rate hotel?’ She looks a little anxiously at Toby when she says this, as if she senses it’s him she needs to impress.

      He tips his head on one side and frowns, as if to say, I’m not sure you’ve quite achieved that.

      To make up for his lack of fulsome praise, I start going totally overboard, praising the floral-patterned quilt on the bed, which tones so beautifully with the drapes – because they are drapes, not just ordinary curtains. Generous swathes of lilac fabric sweep to the floor in the bedroom, which has walls of soft grey and lots of squishy cushions providing splashes of summery fuchsia pink and pale green. I can see similarly lush drapes in the living room area, although there the colour scheme is a more neutral mix of cream and mushroom, the roomy sofa providing a colour pop of deep turquoise.

      The same area contains two chairs and the little table with its pretty jug of flowers, just like in the picture on the website.

      Clemmy shows us how the log burner works and says there’s a plentiful supply of logs and a wheelbarrow in the shed by the Log Fire Cabin. Then she gives us the run-down on the little kitchen area and the toilet and shower cubicle.

      No bath for Toby, obviously. But the shower looks perfectly functional!

      Clemmy has left a big basket of goodies for us on the little counter top in the kitchen – and I breathe a sigh of relief to see chocolates and a bottle of champagne sticking out of СКАЧАТЬ