Page 79 of A Colourful Country Escape
Ben finally joined her in laughing. ‘You’re right. I should keep my toes to myself.’
But his hands were just fine where they were, she couldn’t help thinking. Wrapped up in hers, and, for this surreal moment, on this strangest of days, it felt safe. Maybe they were existing in a parallel universe, and tomorrow would be different. But there was no need to overthink it.
‘You know, I love the business, and Nutgrass Hall feels like it’s under my skin now. With the memories of Dad, and everything. But I’ve never felt any sense of belonging in Mum’s world of snobby friends. Or in the private school I went to as a teenager. I always felt more comfortable in our old life. Maybe that’s why I kept myself to myself a bit. Stayed busy helping Dad with the business. Didn’t bother making real friends.’ He shrugged. ‘I got the impression they all thought I was a bit dull anyway. But this …’ He nodded to the garden shenanigans. Sky and their mum playing limbo with a couple of their cousins. Their dad hiding among his runner beans, pretending he wasn’t drinking a beer. ‘This makes me feel like life’s worth celebrating. Like someone’s taken a paintbrush and splashed me with colour.’
Lexie stole a look at him then as he took in the scenes playing out around them. His eyes were alight and his whole face radiated happiness. She didn’t even think there was anything intoxicating in that herbal tea. She felt warmed by him. Not just hot to rub up against him like she had that time in London. But something deeper. Maybe she was his splash of colour. But he made her feel good about believing in rainbows again too.
‘Sausage rolls,’ Sky hissed, manhandling Lexie and Ben to a space behind the garden shed. They’d been stretching their legs and finding a place to discreetly pour away the dreadful tea. ‘Cover me,’ Sky said to Ben, shoving him in place like a great flower-power shield.
Sky opened her beaded silver clutch bag, which had apparently been hand-stitched by small commune children, and let the smell of warm, sweaty pastry escape into their hideaway.
Lexie laughed. ‘Rebelling on day one, you little troublemaker?’
‘I did not make any promises about sausage meat. Well, not today, anyway.’ Sky shoved a handful of sausage roll into her mouth before offering some to Lexie and Ben.
‘So what’s been frying?’ Sky asked, in between mouthfuls.
‘Not a lot,’ said Ben, seeming to understand her misquoted saying without worrying about correcting her.
‘Did you make all that chalky-paint stuff yet?’ she asked Lexie.
Ben raised his eyebrows.
‘Er, nope,’ said Lexie, fiddling with the hem of her short, yellow hippy dress.
‘I checked it out on Insta,’ said Sky. ‘Doing up your furniture with chalk-style paint is huge. I get what you mean though – people need more vibrant colours. I’m so over dove grey and chicken egg.’
‘Duck egg,’ Lexie replied. ‘And I thought you weren’t allowed to use devices or access the internet.’
Sky shrugged, her mouth too full of banned meat products to answer.
‘Didn’t you mention the chalk-style paint thing before? Don’t ignore your ideas if they’re still vying for attention,’ said Ben.
‘It’s just something I’ve been toying with.’ Lexie nodded slowly. ‘Possibly a bit wild for your taste, but I like it.’
‘Then make it your own venture. Your inspiration deserves space of its own. Carrington Paints shouldn’t prosper from all of your brilliance.’
‘I could help you!’ Sky enthused. ‘Like a family industry.’
‘You live at the other end of the country,’ Lexie reminded her. ‘And you’ve just committed yourself to a four-legged partnership in a commune that doesn’t believe in people doing work for money.’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Sky looked disappointed as she swigged from a miniature bottle of clandestine gin, which she’d pulled from her clutch bag.
Not for the first time, Lexie wondered how long this Billy-Bob fad would last.
‘Skyyyyy.’
Talk of the devil. Sky gave a small squeak of panic as she heard her new not-quite husband’s voice and shoved the bottle of gin into Lexie’s hand.
‘There you are, my darlin’.’ Billy-Bob’s head, with its long grey beard and red bandana, appeared around the corner of their hideout. He was approximately twice as old as Sky, and scarcely half as nice. In fact, Lexie liked him about ten per cent less with every word he said. In his phony American accent.
‘Just having some family time.’ Sky squeezed Lexie and Ben’s hands, and then gave them both a cheesy fake smile Lexie had never even seen before.
Billy-Bob lifted his beak-like nose. ‘What’s that I can smell?’
‘Foxes!’ Sky blurted out.
It made zero sense to Lexie, as she stood there reeking of pork and pastry, with a bottle of Asda’s London Dry in her free hand. But, then, not much about this surreal day did.
