Page 32 of A Colourful Country Escape
As the steam cleared, they saw Tom doing an elaborate shooing dance with the final peacock.
‘I should have insisted Mother take those pretentious birds with her when she shuffled off to live with Carlito. But she’d probably have them turned into a pie, and Tom has grown quite fond of them. Nice to have a bit of colour, I suppose.’
Ben spread his paperwork out across the orange-and-pink makeshift desk covering, and Lexie added some of her coloured sticky notes in solidarity. Was that his twitchy smile again? Why was he watching her like that?
‘I think you’re more suited to a plain girl.’ Mrs Carrington-Noble’s voice hit them from across the room.
Ben appeared to shake himself from his thoughts. ‘I’m sorry – what?’
She waved a photo at them. ‘Like this one.’
The lady in question had black hair scraped into a no-nonsense bun. She wore thick-rimmed glasses and reminded Lexie of the type who’d suddenly become stunning in one of those makeover films.
Cory and Mrs Moon were poring over the woman’s details.
‘What’s a coleopterist?’ asked Cory.
‘Oh dear, Mr Moon had one of those, do you remember? They put a little camera right up his … ’
‘Not a colonoscopy,’ Mrs Carrington-Noble barked.
Cory laughed. ‘You know, this would make an awesome blog post, Lex.’
Ben fixed Lexie with his atlas eyes, which seemed to have taken on a sudden worldwide storm. ‘Miss Summers. My private business is not for social media. And the blog is not to be used for affairs of the heart.’
Why was she getting the brunt of his rage? So much for maps; there was no reading this maddening man.
‘Coleopterist. It’s someone who collects beetles,’ said Cory, after a quick check on his phone.
‘No, no.’ Mrs Carrington-Noble shook her head. ‘Parts of my house are already starting to look like a flea market.’ She scowled at Lexie’s flamboyant desk space, swimming like a tropical fish in a sea of beige. ‘I don’t want any more unwelcome critters.’
Ben snatched his paperwork up, bits of Lexie’s sticky notes reluctantly swept along for the ride. ‘Right, that’s enough. Mother, let’s get you out of here.’
It was clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer, and Mrs Carrington-Noble looked too shell-shocked by his outburst to argue.
Within moments he’d eased her up from her throne and ushered her out, photographs of moneyed hopefuls being scattered in their wake.
Why couldn’t Ben just go on Tinder like everyone else, Lexie wondered. More money, more bloody problems.
Boooonng.The grandmother clock seemed to agree.
Lexie let out a long tense breath and went to join Cory on the sofa. Mrs Moon was still standing on ceremony, but Lexie waved her to sit down.
‘Will you have to marry someone suitably loaded, Cory?’ Lexie asked. She couldn’t imagine someone as down to earth as him putting up with this charade.
‘Nah, I doubt it. I don’t suppose Mum gives two hoots what I get up to. Ben’s the golden boy and the natural choice to inherit the business, seeing as he basically lives and breathes the thing. She gave up on trying to mould me years ago.’
Most people would surely have been bothered, but Cory seemed relieved.
‘She loves you both the same,’ Mrs Moon insisted. ‘And I’m sure she’ll give you a nest egg too, if Ben inherits the business.’
‘What would you do with it?’ Lexie leaned forward, her people-organising skills already twitching. As if she didn’t have enough madness to deal with.
‘I’m happiest catching waves in Newquay. I’d love to set up a surf school down there, or something. Give something back.’
‘And maybe save a few seals!’ Lexie pointed at his T-shirt, feeling suddenly excited.
‘Yes, Lex, now you’re talking. Nothing would rile Mother more than if I spent her hard-snatched pennies on something actually worthy.’
