Summer at the Lakeside Cabin. Catherine Ferguson

Carter,’ he said, and we shook hands.

      ‘Daisy Cooper.’

      When I walked into the pub later, he was already there. Mergers & Acquisitions was on the table in front of him, along with several other thick tomes with mysterious titles.

      I quickly realised he’d taken me quite literally when I said I liked learning new things, and his guided tour through the financial implications of mergers and acquisitions was somewhat of a surprise. I didn’t mind, though. It meant I had a legitimate reason to stare into those gorgeous blue eyes!

      ‘I’m boring you, aren’t I?’ he said at one point.

      ‘No, no,’ I rushed to reassure him.

      ‘I tend to think everyone must be as fascinated as me by this stuff,’ he said with a sheepish look that made me really warm to him. ‘My brothers say I’m a nerd.’

      I smiled and asked how many brothers he had.

      His reply left me temporarily speechless. ‘You have seven brothers?’ I gasped at last.

      He nodded. ‘I’m the oldest. Mum and Dad kept trying, hoping for a girl, but it never happened.’

      ‘That’s amazing. I mean, it’s almost a whole football team! Gosh, you’ll never have to worry about being lonely, will you?’

      He smiled rather wearily. Clearly I wasn’t the first person to look gobsmacked by the copious amount of male siblings.

      ‘Do you still live at home?’ I asked, trying to imagine what it would be like to have such a big family. I couldn’t help thinking it sounded perfect.

      ‘No, thank God. I’ve just moved into my own place. We lost Dad last year and Mum’s not so great at the old discipline thing, so the younger kids were becoming far too loud and unruly. It was a relief to get my own space, to be honest.’

      ‘I’m sorry about your dad,’ I said, wondering how I’d cope if anything ever happened to Mum. ‘But you’re lucky to be part of such a lovely big family. I’m an only one. And if I’ve got brothers and sisters, I don’t actually know about it because I’m adopted!’ I smiled broadly to let him know I was perfectly comfortable with this.

      ‘Oh.’ His eyes widened. ‘Have you – have you ever tried to find your real mum and dad?’

      I shrugged. ‘As far as I’m concerned, the mum and dad I’ve always known are my real parents. And I’d hate to upset Mum by going looking for my biological mother, so I never have.’

      He looked a bit surprised by my revelations. I was fairly taken aback myself, to be honest. I didn’t make a habit of talking about my adoption to relative strangers.

      I’ve known I was adopted ever since I was small.

      Mum and Dad grew up in Surrey and, after they married and found out they couldn’t have children, they decided to adopt and I arrived. Then, when I was four, we left our home in Surrey and moved north to Manchester, where I’ve lived ever since.

      I’ve never been able to establish exactly why we left Surrey. I always felt I never got a proper answer from Mum when I asked her. She talked vaguely about there being better job opportunities for Dad, but he worked for the same sort of engineering company up north as he did when we lived in Surrey, and her explanation didn’t quite ring true. So I just stopped asking.

      Whatever the reason, Mum and I have always been happy in Manchester …

      There was a slightly awkward pause and I cast around for a change of subject. ‘You’ve got lovely eyes.’

      ‘Oh. Thanks.’ Toby smiled and leaned closer across the table. ‘Listen, Daisy, do you fancy grabbing something to eat?’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve got to prepare for a presentation tomorrow but I could give you … um … fifty minutes?’

      I nodded. ‘Great.’

      It wasn’t the most romantic proposition I’d ever received but I was intrigued.

      Toby Carter was clearly passionate about his work and I’d always found that sexy in a man.

      We started dating, seeing each other once or twice a week. Toby often had to work late, so he’d phone me when he was finishing up and I’d hop on a bus into town and we’d go for something to eat in the pub round the corner from Toby’s work. He’d tell me about the people he worked with and the places he’d been to on company business, like New York and Paris and Geneva. And I’d stare into his gorgeous blue eyes, loving the fact that I was spending time with a real grown-up man – not some overgrown teenager like Mason.

      Mason had been undeniably sexy; a fabulous kisser with twinkly eyes and great one-liners. But he was strangely resistant to changing his underwear, and his idea of the perfect night was to loll around on the sofa in his favourite baggy sweatpants, drinking cans and eating pies from tins. His flat was a tip. It always looked as if it had just been ransacked by intruders, and during our very brief relationship, I’d avoided staying over because that would have meant venturing into the scary wilds of his bathroom.

      Mason ambled through doors ahead of you, but Toby held them open. And his bathroom, when he took me back to his flat for the first time, was spotlessly clean.

      I wasn’t sure if it would be a long-term relationship. We got on well and the sex was good but he seemed strangely averse to me meeting his family.

      Then finally – three months into the relationship – his mum invited us for tea and I realised why Toby had been hesitant about taking me to his old family home.

      ‘The place is a bloody shambles with kids everywhere arguing over nothing,’ he groaned in the car, before we went in. ‘Honestly, Daisy, it was such a relief to get my own place and move out. Are you sure you don’t just want to grab a pizza? Mum won’t mind. She’s very easy-going.’

      ‘But I’ve been looking forward to meeting them,’ I said, smiling encouragingly. ‘And I’m sure it’s not half as chaotic as you make out.’

      Actually, it was. And then some.

      But I loved it.

      I’d never been to a house like it. There were people all over the place: in the kitchen, chatting over tea and biscuits, and in the living room, apparently watching a horror movie. Toby was the oldest and his brothers ranged in age from twenty-one-year-old Tom – who was apparently there with his girlfriend, Becky – right down to eight-year-old Josh. Two boys of about ten, who I assumed were the twins Toby had told me about, charged down the hallway, shouting, ‘Can we go out, Mum? Just to the park?’

      ‘Yes, but don’t be long,’ called their mum from the kitchen.

      Toby groaned as they fled past us. ‘Daniel and Harry. Sorry about that.’

      I shook my head. ‘It’s absolutely fine.’

      It was only ever Mum and me at home. I’d always wondered what it would be like to have a big family.

      I smiled at the pairs of trainers, wellies and shoes lined up along the wall of the hallway. It looked as if a shoe shop was having a stocktake. There was something quite cheering about it.

      ‘Let’s see if we can find you a seat.’

      As we walked into the kitchen, the young people gathered around the table looked up curiously, and a plump woman with masses of curly auburn hair heaved herself out of a rocking chair and bustled over to us. Her radiant smile lit her face, all the way up to her friendly blue eyes. They were the exact same shade as Toby’s.

      ‘This is my mum. Rosalind,’ said Toby. ‘Mum, this is my new friend, Daisy Cooper.’

      I smiled shyly at her and held out my hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs – um – Rosalind.’

      ‘Likewise, Daisy Cooper.’ She gave a throaty chuckle and, ignoring my hand, pulled me into