Page 76 of A Colourful Country Escape
Ben gave her an admonishing look. Fancy him being the one taking this ‘vague effort at commitment’ ceremony seriously.
‘And where do his other two girlfriends fit in?’ Lexie whispered.
Mia Ricci, sassy half-Italian singer and girlfriend of her old boss Jake James, was sitting on the other side of Lexie. Mia gave Lexie a playful poke in the ribs, by means of a ‘behave nicely’ warning. Jake was busy at the front taking photos, and probably thinking lovey-dovey thoughts about Mia. It couldn’t be long before he asked Mia to tie the knot, although Lexie hoped he wasn’t taking any notes from this circus.
In fairness, Lexie’s parents had done a lovely job of the garden. The weather was as grey as this questionable union deserved, but they’d filled the space with wildflowers, painted bright murals across the rickety fences and made colourful chair covers from an eclectic mix of chintz. It was perfectly bohemian; the sort of thrown-together look other people probably paid a fortune for, but that her artistic mother no doubt achieved on a shoestring. Lexie wouldn’t ask which public garden she’d ‘borrowed’ the flowers from.
‘And, Billy-Bob Heavenlybody, do you undertake to treasure Sky Trixibelle Summers as though she was one of the greatest pearls in the ocean, but no more or no less great than the other pearly women in your life, namely Indigo Dreamcatcher and Renata De La Soul?’
Even Mia’s shoulders were politely trembling at Lexie’s side now. Who had made up these vows, and what did they really mean?
After what felt like an unnecessary amount of vacuous promises and cheesy readings about rabbits that loved each other, Sky and her three-timing suitor were declared husband and third pretend wife. Lexie was just pleased Sky’s commune didn’t believe in the sanctity of legal marriage. Small blessings.
The clouds continued to loom as some awful non-alcoholic herbal concoction was served on the lawn, from a selection of mismatched crockery. Jake flitted around with his camera and Mia was singing something soulful in the background, trying to embrace the collection of bare-footed men with tambourines who’d decided to accompany her in a completely offbeat fashion.
Despite the odd set-up and dodgy canapés Lexie was actually enjoying herself. Ben was doing his best to cheer her mood and was being a delight to everyone they spoke to. She needn’t have feared any awkward, clash-of-worlds divide. Oddly, he seemed to fit right in. He obviously wasn’t as bad at being human as either of them had thought.
‘Lad!’ Lexie’s dad appeared and slapped Ben on the back like they had been friends for ever. Surprisingly, they’d been getting on like a house on fire before the ceremony, when Lexie had been fussing with Sky and their mum. ‘The shirt looks great on you.’
The shirt was a riot of orange and brown flowers, and had a huge 1970s collar. Much to Lexie’s horror, her dad had been keen to lend it to Ben when he’d felt overdressed in his formal suit. But, somehow, Ben did look good in it. It fit snugly across his firm chest and matched his neat hair perfectly. Well, it had been neat until Lexie had given it a ruffle. And he hadn’t even complained.
‘Anyway, you were telling me about this factory.’
Lexie’s dad, Graham, beamed at Ben’s question, the wrinkles around his eyes turning into happy smiles as he began describing his prized factory. He’d been a caretaker there all his working life. Objectively it was a lowly job with meagre pay and unsuitable hours, but he was proud of it and probably didn’t get to talk about it much. Most people didn’t show an interest.
‘Ooh, isn’t he a bobby dazzler in that top.’ Lexie’s mum, Hazel, arrived at her side, speaking in not-quite-hushed-enough hushed tones. Lexie gave her the customary keep-your-voice-down glare. She didn’t want Ben to overhear.
Lexie’s mum was a worry. She always meant well, in her swathes of purple tie-dye, smelling of homemade rose perfume. But she was just so ditzy. She never engaged her brain before speaking, and who knew what would tumble out. She was like a very colourful truth bomb just waiting to go off. And there were still so many things Lexie didn’t want Ben to know.
‘But he is a cutie.’ Lexie’s mum poked her in the ribs, which in fairness had already had enough poking. ‘And you know it.’
Lexie expelled a frustrated sigh. There was no point in even trying to keep her mother under control. Hazel lived in an alternative floaty universe where trifling conventions like behaving yourself didn’t matter. As much as Lexie loved her mum, she’d spent most of her growing-up years feeling a tad embarrassed about what she might say or do. She’d come to learn it was easier to live at a safe distance.
‘We’re not suited,’ Lexie hissed back. ‘Now shh.’ Although she knew it was futile.
‘On the outside you two looked very different, when you arrived.’ Hazel nodded, as though she was particularly wise. She was not wise. ‘But the ones you usually turn up with …’ She began counting them on her fingers. ‘That Inkie the tattoo scoundrel, and then rock-wannabe Drew from the band. You looked all matchy-matchy on the outside. Arty and interesting, with a streak of rebellion. But underneath it all, you didn’t match them at all.’
‘Right,’ said Lexie. She was not even going to ponder this. Her mum had a head full of rose-scented air. And she’d probably pilfered the roses.
‘Anyway, it’s not all about matching.’ Hazel was on a roll now. Lexie tried not to roll her eyes. ‘Look at me and your dad.’
Lexie did look at him, as he inexplicably rubbed Ben’s shoulder. He was salt of the earth, with his big bear hugs and fuzzy grey curls. There was nothing tie-dye about him, and he usually wore overalls when his wife didn’t sweet-talk him into a strange Hawaiian shirt.
‘Stilton doesn’t need more Stilton,’ Lexie’s mum continued. God knew what she was talking about. ‘Stilton is at its most delicious with a cracker.’ And with that, Hazel gave her daughter a wink and bustled off into the crowd, her cheap bejewelled flipflops clapping with glee beneath her.
‘Certifiable,’ Lexie muttered, before elbowing herself into the bromance between Ben and her dad. She guessed Ben was missing his own father today.
After a few minutes of listening to the two of them rave about the importance of an honest day’s work, Lexie felt like a bit of a spare part. She noticed Mia and Jake were taking a break, so she wandered over to hang out with them under an archway of pretty tissue-paper flowers. They did look a picture and she felt almost rude to interrupt. But she’d had a hand in matchmaking them not so long ago, so she deserved to relish her own handiwork.
‘I always said you two were perfect together,’ said Lexie, pulling Jake’s camera from around his neck and taking some photos of them under the arch.
‘Looks like we’re not the only winning couple,’ Mia replied, trying to tame her long brown waves so they didn’t look too frizzy in the shots. She’d jettisoned her usual rock-chick style for a floaty green dress, albeit with DMs and a lot of red lip gloss.
‘Sky and Billy-Nob?’ asked Lexie, shocked they would even think it.
‘Lexie and Ben,’ Jake replied, thankfully with a hint of discretion. ‘And you can get rid of that protesting pout. I remember the world of denial; it’s a big old waste of life.’
Lexie was starting to feel heavy with the weight of people getting on her back today. Why was everyone so obsessed with her and Ben?
