Page 14 of A Colourful Country Escape
‘Our rooms are not suitable for guests. They haven’t been lived in for years,’ Ben added.
Lexie thought she’d probably die of beige-ness anyway. Or choke on their preposterous wealth. Hey, hang on. Did that mean she had the job?
‘Well, that sounds like a yes, subject to logistics.’ Cory slapped his brother on the back. ‘Nice decision-making.’
‘Wait, I didn’t say that exactly; I … ’
Lexie tried to stifle a snigger. There was nothing like a younger sibling to throw you off balance, even when you thought you were the least messy one.
‘What would Dad have said?’ asked Cory, and they both looked towards the well-worn leather office chair.
There was a silence, and Lexie almost felt a small army of soldier ants prickle across her skin. When Ben spoke next, his voice seemed softer. Like the words came from a place in his subconscious.
‘Dad would have said he liked her backbone. There’s something entrepreneurial about her. And … colourful.’ Ben shook himself down and then looked slightly confused, as though he wasn’t sure where any of that had come from.
‘Woooo,’ said Cory, with a playful air. She could almost imagine him making ghost noises and flicking the lights on and off if he’d been ten years younger. ‘And would he also say you should be chivalrous and let the lady park up and live on the drive, to save on campsite fees?’
Ben’s jaw seemed tighter now but, like a nagging younger brother, Cory wasn’t giving up.
‘What? It’s an epic plan and it makes perfect sense. You work crazy hours, so why not have your social media guru on hand? Then Lexie can keep up to date with what’s going on and get a feel for the place. And hell, Ben, the girl needs somewhere to stay. Give her a break.’
‘Mum would be livid.’
‘And Dad would say use that backbone of your own. Anyway, Mum barely visits. Put your foot down, golden boy. If you don’t get used to saying no to her now, she’ll have you marrying Cynthia Fortescue before you know it.’
‘Not going to happen.’
Cory sniggered. ‘You should hear about Mum’s magnificent matchmaking, Lexie.’
‘No, she shouldn’t.’ Ben’s eyes shot lethal daggers at his brother. ‘You’ve stirred up quite enough trouble for today. You’ve secured your contentious new employee. And even more controversially, she’ll be camping out on our driveway. Mother will probably disembowel the three of us and hang our insides up to dry on Mrs Moon’s washing line. And that’s if she’s in a good mood. Let’s just leave it there, shall we?’
For once, Cory took his younger brother role seriously and had the grace to look suitably rollocked.
‘Now, let me get a contract ready for Miss Summers to consider, before Mother gets wind of it and comes to blow this entire house down,’ said Ben.
Cory shrugged and grabbed a couple of slices of cake. ‘Guess we’ll just have to deal with that crap-storm when it hits. Come on, Lex, we’ll sort you out with an electric hook-up for the camper.’ He turned to her and spoke more quietly. ‘We can have a laugh about my brother’s loser-ish love life another time.’
Chapter 8
Lexie was huddled with her laptop at the well-worn farmhouse table, tinkering with her new social media accounts for Carrington Paints. The kitchen, she had come to learn over her first weekend at Nutgrass Hall, was about the only part of the house where she didn’t feel like a very underprivileged fish out of water.
Unlike the rest of the house, the kitchen was warm and modest, always filled with yummy baking smells from the huge, toasty Aga. Battered copper pans and ancient cookbooks lined the walls, and a blanket-strewn rocking chair swayed gently in the corner. This was very much Mrs Moon the housekeeper’s domain.
‘Her Highness never comes down here,’ she’d whispered to Lexie, on her first visit. ‘And don’t tell her about my telly – she’ll think I’m slacking.’
Lexie smiled now, as clandestine Nigella purred at a meringue-laden spoon from a screen in the corner cupboard.
Ben was taking Lexie to the factory later so she could take photos for social media and get ideas for the website and blog. She wanted to get a feel for the place and the family behind it, and hear people’s stories. Of course, her nose was still twitching at the promise of that matchmaking gossip Cory had mentioned. There was something intriguing about the thought of Ben’s love life, even if she wasn’t sure why. But maybe she shouldn’t pry if she wanted to keep her job and stay out of trouble.
‘Now, keep your naughty fingers out of the mix,’ Nigella warned from her hidey-hole in the cupboard.
Quite, thought Lexie, and then told herself off for sounding like one-word Ben.
Her first weekend at Nutgrass Hall had been a little odd. She’d steered clear of the main house, which still seemed so stuffy and imposing. It didn’t feel like a home at all, more like a stale, beige museum, with little hint that life or love had ever existed. Lexie had stayed in her camper van as much as she could, although she had to admit it was a bit of a struggle. It was one thing to use it for a weekend festival. To live in it, with everything she owned crammed inside, was a totally different matter.
Cory had said she could use one of the spare rooms as her dumping ground, but she was determined to be as self-sufficient as possible. It already irked her that she was powered by an electrical cable running from her van to the kitchen, like a pathetic orange umbilical cord. Her leisure battery would only get her so far. Cory had laughed when she’d offered to pay her share of the electricity bill.
But the van was cold at night, and filled with condensation by the morning. Her clothes always smelt of burnt toast and she could never find anything. She was often running to the kitchen for fresh water and company, and her self-imposed march to the leisure centre for a shower was actually quite annoying.
