Summer at the Lakeside Cabin. Catherine Ferguson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ scrutinised myself in the mirror. It was maybe a bit over-the-top for a weekday dinner but I didn’t care. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me and I was going to enjoy it! After losing Mum, I was due a break. Hopefully this would be the start of a whole new adventure.

      Perhaps, one day, I might even dare to dream of handing in my notice at Plunge Happy Monthly …

      I’d arranged to meet Toby at the restaurant at eight-thirty but I was there a little early, just in case. The waiter came over and, after a second’s hesitation, I ordered champagne. It arrived in an ice bucket and I smiled and said I’d wait for my dinner date to arrive. It was important Toby was here when the cork was popped! I wanted him to feel he was in it with me; that he was an important part of my success.

      By nine o’clock, he still hadn’t arrived, but I wasn’t worried. He’d have got held up; it happened all the time. There was no point phoning. He was probably already on his way.

      I ordered a soft drink and read the email from the magazine for the hundredth time.

      At nine-twenty, fed up with the sympathetic looks I was getting from other diners, I dialled Toby’s number.

      I braced myself for multiple apologies but he actually sounded quite calm.

      ‘Daisy? I just got home to an empty flat. Where are you? Did we run out of milk or something?’

      Crushing dismay punched me in the gut. No wonder Toby was ‘late’. He’d forgotten all about it.

      ‘Daisy?’ I could almost hear the cogs in his head ticking over. Realisation dawning. ‘Oh God, we were meeting for dinner, weren’t we? Listen, stay there. I’ll be along now.’

      I finally found my voice. ‘No, it’s too late now, Toby. I’ve hogged the table for long enough and I’ve lost my appetite. I’m coming home.’ I couldn’t keep the hurt from my tone and, as he rushed to apologise some more, I hung up.

      I drove home with a horrible sick feeling inside. I realised I was probably over-reacting, but the forgotten dinner just illustrated what I’d long suspected – I was far more interested in Toby’s life than he was in mine. He’d known ever since we met that I longed to be a writer, and although I realised he viewed my ‘scribbling’ – which was how he termed it – as just a nice hobby and never likely to lead anywhere, I’d nonetheless thought he’d understand how thrilled I was about my magazine success.

      But apparently it was so insignificant to him that it had totally slipped his mind!

      My throat hurt.

      I wanted a partner who supported me to the hilt in whatever I wanted to do in life. Someone who cherished my hopes and dreams almost as much as I did myself. The way Mum did.

      Was I kidding myself imagining Toby could ever be that person?

      When I got home, he greeted me at the door, full of more apologies, blaming the falling markets for wiping all other thoughts from his mind. He’d laid the table and ordered Thai food, my favourite, and there was a big bunch of hastily acquired roses in the centre of the table. But I was nowhere near ready to forgive.

      I ignored him, threw my coat over a chair, yanked the fridge open and pulled out an open bottle of white wine. ‘You probably aren’t even interested in reading my story, are you?’ I glared at him, all the hurt tumbling out, then glugged half a glass of wine down in one go.

      ‘Of course I am.’

      I laughed bitterly. ‘Well, you’re hardly going to say no now!’

      I was being petty, I knew, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted more from a relationship than this …

      ‘Hey, listen. Of course I’m interested.’ Gently he removed the glass from my hand and took me in his arms. I stood there, rigid, desperate not to respond.

      ‘The thing is, though, I’d much rather read your story when it’s printed in the magazine and your name is right there on the page in big letters! How proud will I feel then?’

      I twisted away from him. ‘That’s easy to say.’

      ‘It’s easy to say because it’s true.’ He sighed. ‘Look, you know I’m no good at English. The only thing I ever read is books about finance. And take-away menus.’

      ‘That’s true.’

      ‘But when that magazine comes through the door, believe me, I’ll be the first to read your prize-winning story.’ Smiling, he put a finger to my chin and gently turned my face to his. ‘You’re brilliant, Daisy Cooper.’

      When he kissed me, I relented and kissed him back, relief flooding through me.

      The thought of us splitting up terrified me. It was too soon after Mum to cope with something else so emotionally devastating.

      I might have had misgivings about Toby and I being right for each other, but the fact was, Toby and his family – especially Rosalind – had been totally there for me when Mum died. I wasn’t sure I could bear the thought of doing without them now.

      The doorbell rang, announcing our take-away. Toby bounded to the door, calling, ‘Let’s do something special for my birthday in July? I’ll book a week off work and you can have me all to yourself!’

      Grudgingly, I agreed. Perhaps a holiday was what we needed.

      I’d book a surprise romantic trip and then we’d see …

       CHAPTER FOUR

      It’s a month later and I’m sitting on the floor of Toby’s bedroom, sorting through the latest load of boxes I’ve brought over from Rachel’s garage.

      I always thought moving in with a man for the first time would be a mark of how responsible and grown-up I’d become. It would be a conscious, level-headed decision to move the relationship to the next stage.

      But there was nothing remotely level-headed about the speed with which this latest life-changing decision was made.

      Not that I’m complaining!

      The past few weeks since my short story triumph have passed in a mad whirl, mainly due to the fact that Rachel’s boyfriend, Adam, proposed to her right out of the blue. Rachel was ecstatic and, after we’d celebrated for the best part of a week, she told me she’d decided to sell her house and move in with Adam. So obviously I needed to find somewhere else to live.

      It was the following Sunday, when we were over at Toby’s mum’s house for lunch, that everything crystallised into an obvious solution …

      *

      I was in the kitchen, helping Rosalind make cauliflower cheese to go with the roast.

      I suppose I was feeling more emotional than usual at the thought of my flat-share with Rachel coming to an end.

      Rosalind seemed to pick up on my feelings.

      ‘So СКАЧАТЬ