Summer at the Lakeside Cabin
Country girl Sadie has been swept off her feet by city trader Toby. They might only have known each other for a fortnight, but what a whirlwind it’s been! With Toby’s birthday on the horizon, Sadie decides it’s her turn for romantic gestures and organises the ultimate getaway at her friend Clemmie’s new glamping site. But Sadie didn’t bargain for Toby hating all things outdoorsy – he screams at the sight of bugs and is more bothered about WiFi than walking. And when Toby isn’t there for Sadie when she needs him most, she starts to question whether he really is the One. Will the lakeside bell tent be the relaxing getaway Sadie was hoping for? Or is this summer destined to end in disaster…?
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Summer Under the Stars
CATHERINE FERGUSON
Published by AVON
A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019
Copyright © Catherine Ferguson 2019
Cover design © Diane Meacham
Cover illustration © Shutterstock
Catherine Ferguson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © May 2019 ISBN: 9780008302504
Version: 2019-04-11
For Matthew. You make me so proud.
Table of Contents
It’s the third Saturday in May and I’ve booked to take Mum to the theatre for her birthday.
Her all-time favourite musical is running for two weeks.
Oklahoma!
I remember being over the moon when I realised it coincided with Mum’s special day. It seemed significant somehow. I booked the tickets straight away – the best seats available.
I’m imagining her swaying in time to ‘Oh What a Beautiful Morning’, a delighted smile dimpling her face and lighting up her brown eyes. She’s going to have the best birthday ever.
There’s only one problem … I can’t for the life of me remember where I put the tickets.
Recent events have muddled my brain like never before, so I suppose it’s not surprising my mind has gone temporarily blank. But I’m certain I put them on the hall table along with all the other post, and they’re clearly not there.
‘Rachel?’ I yell for my flatmate. ‘Rachel!’
She appears in the hall, a look of alarm on her face, holding her hands aloft as if about to conduct an orchestra. ‘Daisy? What’s happened? Are you okay?’
I carry on scrabbling through the pile of mail, even though I’ve been through it three times already.
‘I can’t find the tickets,’ I wail, trying to ignore the horrible panicky feeling rising inside.
‘Oh.’ Absently blowing on her newly varnished nails, she contemplates me with the slightly worried frown I’ve grown used to lately. ‘I put them in the kitchen drawer when I was clearing up. I … um … wasn’t sure you’d be going. What with … everything that’s happened.’
My eyes flash with impatience. ‘Of course I’m going. It’s Mum’s special day and this is her birthday treat. You know she loves musicals. Especially this one.’
Rachel nods, murmuring, ‘Oklahoma!’
‘Precisely, and I need to get a move on,’ I call, haring through to the kitchen and pulling open the messy drawer where all the miscellaneous items live. ‘Or else I’m going to be late. The performance starts at two.’ Finding the tickets, I sigh with relief.
‘Are you getting the bus in?’ Rachel is hovering in the doorway. ‘Shall I come with you?’
I turn away from her to close the drawer, suppressing a sigh and flicking my eyes to the ceiling. ‘There’s really no need, Rachel. But thanks for offering.’
I love Rachel to bits. But I wish she wouldn’t fuss so much. I’m absolutely fine, and I’ve told her that over and over again, but she obviously thinks I’m lying.
Rachel and I have been friends ever since we worked as reporters on the same local newspaper when I was fresh out of journalism school.
Our career paths have diverged a little since then. We’re both thirty-two. But while Rachel has worked her way up to be chief sub-editor at a well-known glossy magazine, saving enough to own this house, I spend my days writing about flappers and float valves. This sounds more boring than it is. Actually, scratch that. It’s exactly as tedious as it sounds. But it pays the rent.
Writing for a plumbing trade publication called Plunge Happy Monthly is not my dream job if I’m honest. But on the plus side, anything I don’t know about spigots and galvanised steel piping really isn’t worth knowing about.
