Page 46 of A Colourful Country Escape
Lexie tugged the fraying sleeve of her favourite yellow jumper. ‘That’s true.’
‘Although what you really mean is your boss has pissed you off,’ said Grace.
‘He’s annoying.’ Lexie sniffed.
‘But you told me he was beige,’ Grace continued. ‘How does beige clash with anything?’
‘Urgh, he’s not actually that beige. He just thinks he is.’
‘Really? That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.’ Grace rearranged her elegantly scruffy top-knot, which was now streaked with blue after she’d insisted on experimenting with Lexie’s hair dye. ‘Maybe you should help him see his own true colours. Coax him out of his hermit-crab shell and get him painting the town red!’
‘No! I’ve seen his true colours, and they’re more or less the shade of a bank note. He can bugger off. We totally clash. It’s there in black and white.’ Lexie waved at her laptop screen.
Grace leaned over and pressed delete. ‘So rewrite it.’
Sky and Lexie gasped.
‘Oi! It took me all bloody morning to write that.’
‘You were never going to post it. It was a passive-aggressive rant, and it would have got you the sack.’
Lexie glared at Grace.
‘Anyway, you love clashing colours.’ Grace pointed at Lexie’s outfit, the dalmatian print on her jumper looking admittedly odd against her wildly striped shorts.
‘So do you,’ Lexie muttered.
Grace was wearing one of Lexie’s thrift-shop jumpers – one of the many things she’d fallen in love with from Lexie’s wardrobe. Lexie had to admit, Grace was like her sister from a richer mother.
‘The only Carrington I’d want to get clash-y with is the surfer one.’ Grace wiggled her bare toes, which were still drying from Lexie’s bargain orange nail varnish. ‘Can you hook me up?’
‘Ooh, yeah, he’s hot!’ Sky shook her head and seemed to remember herself.
‘Stop it, the pair of you! No more matchmaking.’
Grace looked at Lexie and lowered her voice. ‘Hey, we should matchmake you with Ben.’
‘Yeah, you totally blush when he’s around.’ Sky giggled.
Grace threw herself backwards onto a mound of cushions and kicked her feet with joy. ‘You’d make an excellent lady of the manor.’
Lexie threw pillows at both of them. ‘That’s ridiculous. Anyway, I’d never feel at home among all the finery, horsey paintings and shades of bloody snooty.’
‘So you’d make it your own,’ Grace replied.
‘Stop it! The financial criteria are extremely strict, anyway. I’m from a totally different world.’
Grace sat bolt upright. ‘But you like him?’
‘Absolutely not! When did I say that?’
‘You didn’t say you didn’t – which says it all! Want me to share some cash?’ Grace offered.
Lexie pursed her lips.
‘What? Money is just stuff, Lexie. You share your things with me.’ Grace shimmied in her borrowed jumper.
‘Not the same.’ Lexie crossed her arms.
