Page 25 of A Colourful Country Escape
She was much taller than Lexie had expected, although she carried her bony frame in a stoop, as though a heavy weight was forcing her down from the shoulders. It was a shame for her well-cut linen suit, which didn’t quite know how to sit. The jacket flapped open like the terrible wings of a buzzard.
And bloody hell, she was coming Lexie’s way. She strode across the drive like a woman on a mission, unperturbed by the gravelly stones trying to shrink away beneath her pointy court shoes.
The peacocks had caught up with their assailant. Lexie cringed back behind the curtains, wondering if they were going to commence one of their frenzied attacks. Would they give themselves a colonic irrigation all over that sparkling white Range Rover? Or would Mrs Thingy-Noble pull out a hunting rifle and splatter their guts all over Tom’s neat lawn? Lexie ducked down, one eye peeking through the netting.
But the peacocks fanned out behind their mistress like an exquisite army, marching onwards towards the camper van, a turquoise show of solidarity. Mrs Carrington-Noble shooed them with jutting arms, just a few determined stragglers skulking in her shade.
‘Benediiiiiiiiict!’
The woman was shrieking over her shoulder towards the house, where some of the windows were open to invite in the fresh spring air. Well, at least it had been fresh until this fog of bother swept in. And who was Benedict? Lexie prayed he was the person this venom was directed at, and not … oh God.
The mother was hammering at the door of the van. What should she do? There was nowhere to hide if this woman meant business.
Lexie slid off her bench seat and cowered under the table. How was she going to deal with this?
Chapter 13
Lexie’s stomach was tying itself into a new knot with each bang on Penny the camper’s poor old vintage door.
Lexie knew she should get up and face Mrs Carrington-Noble, but the longer she left it the more awkward it became. Lexie was a squatter on this driveway, and an employee Mrs Carrington-Noble had not even sanctioned. The brothers had insisted their mother rarely interfered in the day-to-day running of the business, but she was throwing herself all in now.
As Mrs Carrington-Noble thundered around the outside of the van, Lexie’s ears were on high alert.
‘What are these dreadful rags?’
Damn it, she’d found her makeshift washing line.
‘And this?’
Mrs Carrington-Noble was pulling at her umbilical cord – the orange electrical cable that was tying Lexie to the house like a pathetic foetus. Quaking on the floor of the van, Lexie felt about as small as she had in that jewellery shop; surrounded by pompous haters and diamonds when she’d been dripping wet and dumped.
Maybe she should start up the van and chug out of there. Living on this grandiose drive like a second-class misfit was never going to work. Who had she been trying to kid? And maybe Sky really did need her.
Lexie forced her weak legs to stand, yanked the plug on the electric cable and pushed the end back through the window until she heard it thud onto the gravel. At least the noise had distracted Mrs Carrington-Noble.
But, damn it, those peacocks were pecking at the thrift-shop woollens she’d left drying on the clothes horse outside. She would have to leave them. She clambered over the seats into the front of the van and searched for her keys. Just as she was twisting them in the ignition and praying Penny wouldn’t backfire, Lexie heard another war march across the stones.
‘Benedict! What in God’s good name is going on here? And why do I have to hear about family business secondhand fromfactory staff?’
Lexie craned her head, intrigued to know who this mystery Benedict was. When her eyes landed on all six riled feet of Ben, she couldn’t help but guffaw. She’d assumed he was a Benjamin; no wonder he shortened it. Mrs Carrington-Noble really did have illusions of grandeur. What on earth was Cory short for?
‘Mother, don’t yell. Come inside.’
Lexie should drive off and leave these not-so-noble people to their bunfight. But there was something quite captivating about a stern Ben in an open-collared white shirt. She was unexpectedly transfixed.
‘Why would I want to go inside? The travelling circus is clearly out here. Who is this girl and why the hell is she spreading our business inblog posts?’
Oh crap, she’d seen it. Well, that explained the bewildering dawn raid.
‘Because that’s her job,’ said Ben, with a firmness that was almost touching.
‘Says who?’
‘Says the person who’s in charge of giving people jobs,’ he replied.
‘We’ll see about that. Now where is she?’
‘Lexie?’ Ben made his way around the van, squinting into windows as he called her name.
