Summer at the Lakeside Cabin. Catherine Ferguson
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 the top of it.
‘I’ve got some basic foodstuffs at the house if you don’t want to go food shopping now,’ says Clemmy. ‘Nothing more exotic than baked beans, though, I’m afraid.’
‘I’ve brought some homemade moussaka,’ I tell her. ‘And I think I spotted a little microwave?’
She smiles. ‘You did indeed. That’ll be lovely. And it’s such a lovely night for eating al fresco.’
‘Al fresco?’ Toby swings round.
‘Outside?’ I explain helpfully.
He frowns. ‘I know what al fresco means. I’m just not sure it’s a good idea. Bugs are absolutely rife near water. I’m not sure I fancy ingesting midges with my moussaka.’ He shoots me a worried glance. ‘You did pack the insect repellent, didn’t you?’
I assure him I did, and Clemmy says, ‘They can be a bit pesky, the midges, but usually only when it’s been raining. And we’ve had the most glorious dry spell lately.’
‘We can always eat in,’ I say cheerfully, to allay Toby’s worries of being eaten alive.
‘Or we can go out for dinner.’ Toby’s eyes light up. ‘There looks to be a rather fine eating establishment just along there, by the lake.’
‘Yes, the Starlight Hotel,’ says Clemmy. ‘It’s fabulous in every way. Very elegant. But – um – rather expensive?’
We glance over and Toby nods approvingly. ‘Excellent.’
Clemmy smiles. ‘I can phone and make a booking for you if you like?’
‘No, it’s fine. I’ll sort it,’ says Toby.
‘Okay, I’ll leave you to settle in then. Give me a knock in the morning if you’d like breakfast,’ says Clemmy. ‘I live in the converted barn over there.’ She points to the chalet-style building we spotted earlier. She laughs. ‘Well, it was more of a big shed, really, but Jed, who owns the Log Fire Cabin, is an architect and he did an amazing conversion job on it for us. Jed is my fiancé’s brother.’
I smile. ‘How lovely. When’s the wedding?’
‘October. There’s still so much to organise, but we’ll get there.’ A dark shadow passes over her face. But next second she’s back into professional mode. ‘Jed’s fiancée, Poppy, has her own catering company, and she bakes fresh bread and pastries every morning,