Sorrell stayed with him and some of the residents, talking to them and soaking up the compliments about her baking. Zack watched her as closely as he could without seeming like a creep, noticing how her hands moved when she was explaining something and how her eyes lit up with interest when she became engrossed in a conversation.

She was good with people, even with May Pearson who was grumpier than a grounded teenager, and she spoke to his residents with patience and a genuine interest.

“Tell me you’re not staying in by yourself tonight?” he said, as she started to pull on her coat. He had plans to go round to Jake’s and watch the Friday night football match, although they’d probably end up in Scott’s bar before last orders.

“Actually, no. I’m going to Waverford with Keren,” she said. “Apparently I need to know more about the area so I can advise guests on where to visit.”

Zack raised his brows and folded his arms, trying to make himself seem bigger. “Waverford? It can be rowdy on a Friday,” he said, knowing full well how rowdy it could be, having been part of the rowdiness often enough. There were a couple of clubs there, as well as an assortment of bars and pubs.

“I think that’s the point,” Sorrell said. “Keren’s had one of those weeks she needs to forget and apparently I could do with drinks and somewhere to dance.”

“According to Keren?” Zack said, starting to side with Scott, and his grudge against Keren.

Sorrell nodded. “It’s been ages since I had a proper girls’ night out. I think your cousin’s joining us too.”

He felt his back stiffen. Rayah was the family’s wild child, which since she had four elder brothers or male cousins was always going to be kind of the case. She had always tried to keep up with them, in terms of drinking, escapades and general madness. Becoming a nursery teacher had levelled her slightly, but it hadn’t stopped her pushing boundaries—she just did it in a less obvious way.

“One of us will pick you up then,” he said. “Don’t get a taxi. Just call me or Jake and we’ll bring you home.”

Sorrell laughed, and he realised she was definitely laughing at him. “No, Zack, we’re not booking you for a lift. Keren would kill me if Scott cockblocked her, although I haven’t found out why she’s so anti-him yet.”

Zack shrugged. “I’ll pick you up. Seriously, Waverford’s not the best place to be stuck waiting for a cab.”

She shook her head again. “We’re three grown women, Zack. We can look after ourselves. Besides, I bet you have plans for this evening anyway.”

“I’m only going round to Jake’s. And then probably Scott’s.” He wondered about taking a trip into Waverford. Jake rarely passed up when that was suggested, given it was his usual playground for picking up a woman. Not that Zack was an angel in that regard either.

“We might even end up there if we don’t stay in Waverford. Have a good evening,” she said. “And at some point, you’ll need to tell me why Keren hates your cousin.”

“That’ll be a six course tasting menu then,” Zack said. “On both Friday and Saturday. It’s a long story.”

“I’ve gathered. See you later.” She gave him a grin that concealed a laugh and he wondered if she could tell that he wasn’t overly keen on her going out to the town and if she’d worked out why, because he’d now realised why. He liked her.

“If you need a lift, call me. I won’t be drinking tonight, so I can pick you up,” he said, hoping to hell that she didn’t hear the need in his voice.

There was that smile again. “You don’t need to, Zack. I’m not after a heavy night. I’ve too much to do to have a hangover.”

“You know Waverford’s got a reputation, don’t you?” He mentally kicked himself for sounding like such a wuss. “Especially Scruples, because the people who generally go in there don’t have any. If someone’s not wearing a wedding ring, don’t think they’re not married…”

She was full-on belly laughing now, her eyes crinkling at the sides. Her small hand reached out to grasp his forearm.

“Zack, I should’ve been getting married four weeks from today. I’m interested in getting dressed up and feeling pretty and having a laugh with the girls. Not taking anyone home.”

She couldn’t have said anything that deflated him more, because that meant she wasn’t interested in him.

“I wasn’t…” He stopped. “Just let me know if you need a lift.”

“I will do.” She squeezed his arm. “Have a good night yourself.”

Zack arrived at Jake’s in a foul mood. His cousin was sprawled on his sofa with a beer, his eyes fixed on the highlights of the European soccer match from the night before.

“What’s up with your face?” Jake said when he finally looked up. “You look like you’ve just seen a mirror.”

“Fuck off,” Zack said, sitting down. “Fancy going to Waverford?”

Jake sat up and frowned. “Why? It’s colder than an Eskimo’s testicle out there. And I heard that Chad Hooley has his stag night tonight, so I’d rather avoid that sack of shit.”

“Fuck,” Zack said and slumped back into the sofa.

Jake’s expression switched from frown to over-keen interest, as if he could smell a nugget of information that could be used as a weapon for torture. “What’s with the sudden urge to go to Waverford? You hate the place.”

That was true. Waverford was Zack’s last choice for a night out. He preferred the city: Manchester or Leeds, Sheffield at a push, where there was a more cosmopolitan feel instead of a large market town with cheap beer.

“The girls have gone for a night out,” he admitted, reluctantly. Jake would now take on the vibe of one of Alex’s sniffer dogs, hunting around for more information until he’d dragged it out and forced Zack to choke on it.

“Which girls?”

Zack shrugged. “Your sister. You know she’s got previous form with one of Chad’s mates.” While this was true, it was also inconsequential. Rayah regularly chewed up and spat out Keenan Rowe, but the poor guy kept on coming back for more.

“Rayah can look after herself. Who’s she out with?” Jake sat back and pulled out a tube of Pringles, set for some pre-game entertainment in the form of Zack.

Zack shook his head. “Keren.”

There was a laugh. “Let me text Scott that Keren’s out in Waverford tonight.”

“Don’t,” Zack groaned. “It’s embarrassing enough how he can’t even stand to be in the same room as her.”

Jake pulled his phone out from between the cushions of the sofa and rapidly sent a message. “Done. That’ll make sure he has a shit night.”

“Why can’t he just apologise?” Zack said.

“Maybe he’s not the one with something to apologise for.”

Zack shrugged. “It’s getting irritating.”

“It got irritating three years ago. At some point, I’m locking them in the cellar together for twenty-four hours with a bottle of tequila.” This time, Jake didn’t look amused.

“That could be an interesting experiment,” Zack said. “Which one would kill the other first?”

“My money would be on Keren,” Jake said. “And that sound means Scott has taken the bait.” He looked at his phone and laughed. “Dick. One line: I have no fucks left to give. And it took him at least a minute to respond.”

“Still don’t know what happened,” Zack said. “Scott won’t say anything and when I’ve tried to bring it up with Keren, she just tells me how much of an arsehole Scott is, to which I have no argument.”

Jake looked up from his phone. “Why don’t you ask Sorrell to find out? She’s becoming friendly with Keren.”

Zack knew the look on Jake’s face. It was the same one as when they were ten years old and Zack had a crush on Melanie Burns in the year above.

“I don’t know her well enough to have that sort of conversation with her,” Zack said, glancing at his own phone.

“But you know her well enough to have your arm around her at the bonfire,” Jake said. “Don’t think for one minute that went unnoticed.”

“I was just trying to look after her. She doesn’t know anyone and her dick of an ex has left her in the lurch.”

Jake typed something into his phone, pretending to ignore Zack’s defence.

“Scott’s mentioned going to the bar,” Jake said. “Maybe he can help you with your woman problem.”

“I don’t have a woman problem.”

“So is Sorrell not one of the girls going out to Waverford tonight?”

Zack stared at the TV. “I wouldn’t know. She said she might be before…”

“Before when?” Jake interrupted.

“She came into Sunrise before with some cakes she’d baked,” Zack said, wondering whether home alone and away from any member of his family was the wise decision to make.

“And you’re wondering whether she tastes as sweet as her cakes?” Jake whistled, long and shrill. “Good luck with that.”

Zack twisted his head round to stare at him. “There’s nothing to wish me luck for. I’m not interested.”

Jake stood up and turned the TV off with the remote. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go into town.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“You’ve got no fucking choice. Besides, you’ll want to hear what I know about her ex.”

“You know something,” Zack said. “You gossip more than all the old women in Sunrise put together.”

Jake shrugged. “Your words wound me.”

Zack groaned as he stood up. “It’ll take a lot more than words to get through that thick skin of yours.”

“I’m dead.”

The bar lacked a few of the regular Friday nighters who were out in Waverford for the stag party, but it was still busy enough for a Friday when there wasn’t a band on.

Scott was malingering round the bar, looking about as happy as a bear brought out of hibernation during a snowstorm. Zack knew his brother’s bite was more of a nibble compared to his growl, but since Bonfire Night when he’d seen Keren, he’d been a bigger pain the arse than usual.

“You need to pay your tab from last time,” Scott said to Jake as they sat down at the bar. “Twenty-three quid.”

“Here’s my card,” Jake said. “And make it a large one for Zachary there.”

Scott looked at Zack hard and made a noise. “Thought you might have gone into Waverford. Or you might at least be on your way there, in case, you know, a certain redhead wanted a lift home and tucking in bed.”

“This gets even better,” Jake said. “Make mine a double too. Or maybe Zack’s not drinking?”

Zack checked his phone, ignoring both his brother and cousin, something he was well practiced at. There were two messages, both from Melanie Burns—the crush had materialised into a mutual scratching of itches every so often.

There was nothing from Sorrell.

“I promised to get them if they wanted a lift,” he muttered, knowing there was no point in keeping quiet about it as it seemed Scott already knew.

“Sorrell told me you’d mentioned it. She said how sweet she thought you were. Sweet. That’s just how you want to be described by a woman, isn’t it, Jakey?”

“Damn right, Scotty. I’m not aiming for sexy or tough or manly or hot. It’s all about being sweet. Well done, my man.” Jake slapped Zack on the back. “You’re shooting fish in a barrel with that one. The ex did a number on her, so drink up.”

Three shots of tequila were placed in front of them and Scott came round the bar. Clearly he was joining in.

Zack debated his options and decided that the tequila was the best path to take.

The three men lifted the glasses, tapped the bar twice with them, and necked back the alcohol.

“Tequila,” Scott said. “Ain’t nothing more soothing.”

“If that’s what you really think, you need to find yourself something other than your hand to occupy yourself with.” Jake gestured for another shot.

“Is that why you’ve bought a herd of alpacas?” Scott said without missing a beat.

“The direction of your thought concerns me greatly. We need to get you on Tinder. Or a better porn site.” Jake smiled at the bartender who smiled back, clearly not having read the ‘do not encourage’ sign in the staff manual.

“Maybe you should tell us about Sorrell’s ex, Jakey. Put Zack out of his misery,” Scott said. Ignoring each other was a skill the four of them had learned quickly, mainly out of necessity.

“Go on,” Zack said. “Tell me about her ex. Not that it matters.”

“Can we have three pints of Punk IPA, Abby?” Jake flashed his smile again.

Abby nodded, smiling back, but not in the way most women smiled at Jake.

“Make that four,” a voice came from behind them.

“Alex,” Jake said. “That’s well timed. It’s your round.”

“And happy end of shift to you too. Can I have a shot of tequila as well, Abs?” Alex, the third Maynard brother, said.

“Sure.” Her smile was different this time. Zack noticed, but decided not to inflict Jake’s mirth on his brother. He knew from a brief phone call that Alex had gone through a tough shift, using both dogs to track the whereabouts of a missing toddler. The child had been found a good few miles away from where they had been, shaken and distressed, but physically unharmed.

“You have that mood about you,” Scott said. “The one that screams ‘I’m not seeing daylight tomorrow.’”

“I have every intention of spending the day hungover and eating grease. With maybe a hair of the dog around three,” Alex said.

“That sounds rather tempting,” Scott said. “Apart from the fact that I’m short staffed tomorrow.”

“I’ll take the shift,” Abby said, putting down a shot of tequila which Alex threw back without preamble.

“Then you’re working a double.” Scott looked half-concerned. “Don’t complain if your feet hurt by the end of it.”

“Since when have you heard me complain?” she said, topping up the pints. “And I can get here earlier if you want help with stock taking.”

“Fine,” Scott said. “The flat’s coming free at the end of next week.”

“You mean I can move in?”

Scott nodded. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Tonight I reckon we talk about Sorrell Slater.”

Zack started to find his beer incredibly interesting.

“Her ex is a tosser,” Alex said. “I pulled him for speeding when they first moved into the hotel. Well, she’d moved into the hotel. He was still in Leeds or somewhere.”

Zack decided to look up. He wanted to hear how her ex was a dick, because that would make him feel better that she was out of that situation. His brothers and Jake had already figured that he had a soft spot for the redheaded hotelier and there wasn’t much point in denying it.

“Did he ever move into Litton Manor?” Zack asked. Alex knew the most out of everyone about what was going on in Severton. Not that he was a gossip, it was part of his job. Scott also knew a lot, just different stuff than Alex, like who went home with who and the secrets that were confessed in the booth of his bar.

Alex shook his head. “As far as I know, the plan was for him to move in after his contract had finished where he was working. He was some sort of business advisor and was contracted at a company based in Leeds who owned a hotel and a couple of bars. Not sure how successful he was.”

“I think the money invested was Sorrell’s,” Jake said. “The deposit and the bank loan are in her name from what Keren’s said.”

Zack saw Scott shake his head at the mention of Keren’s name but no diatribe about her level of pain-in-the-arseness appeared.

“So he’s left her high and dry on her own?” Zack felt a growl brew in his chest. “Why? She’s not exactly ugly and she’s got something about her.”

He felt Alex’s hand smack him on the back.

“Yeah, we figured you felt like that from how you were very attentive at the bonfire. The ex was a twat. That just about sums it up. I heard that he had another girl on the go in Leeds who he’s kept very quiet. I don’t know if Sorrell knows about her, or if it’s true. He’s a douche but not a big enough one to rub her nose in it.” Alex picked up his pint and took a long drag from it, as if he was ingesting life giving nectar.

“She should’ve been getting married in four weeks,” Zack said. “I don’t get how you can get that close to an event you’ve been planning for probably over a year and then get cold feet.”

Scott shifted a couple of empty glasses further along the bar, creating a bit of distance.

“But not everyone’s a decent bloke, Zack,” Alex said. “Shit like that happens. And to be fair, you’ve never had a wedding to plan or get cold feet over.”

“I wouldn’t ask someone unless it was what I knew was right.”

Alex shrugged. “I get that. But people sometimes act more out of lust and when that simmers down, you might’ve promised more than you want to fulfil.”

Jake nodded. “I can testify to that. Hayley Rivers, ten years ago. I even bought a ring.”

Three sets of identical hazel eyes landed on Jake. This was news.

Jake shrugged. “I kept the receipt. But I thought she was it for about three months. That she was the permanent home for my dick because she was magical.”

“What happened?” Scott said.

“Woke up one morning with her in bed and something big had happened news-wise. Started to talk to her about it and she hadn’t a clue about anything. Then wondered how we’d get on if her pussy was out of action and decided that you really did need something to talk about after,” Jake said. “Took the ring back, got a refund.”

“And she’s now married twice and divorced once,” Alex said.

“Second divorce coming up,” Scott added. “Husband number two was in here the other night drowning his sorrows. Wonder who’ll be husband number three? Jake?”

“No thanks. Not going anywhere near any form of ceremony till I’m at least forty,” he said. “Another round, brethren?”

The conversation switched from general Severton gossip to sports talk, which was momentarily disrupted by a pop up choir appearing in the bar. It wasn’t unusual; Severton had an active group of societies and the pop up choir tended to materialise in some way most evenings. Tonight they were hosting the spirits of a Glee club, Wham’s Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go filling the bar.

Zack quite liked the weirdness of Severton, with its choirs and mummers’ plays and odd traditions. Scott, on the other hand, tolerated it. Usually with a growl or some time out in the cellar to check the temperature or change a barrel, although he was the one organising the annual River of Fire that would take place on Christmas Eve.

The peace left behind when the choir moved on was broken by the squall of women whose laughter and clicking of heels on the hard floor caused most eyes in the bar to be drawn to them.

Zack recognised Rayah’s voice first and then Keren’s. He turned round to see if Sorrell was there too and saw her in tight jeans and a beaten up leather jacket, a thin scarf tied round her neck.

“Thought you were spending the night in Waverford?” Jake said. “Was it too much for you to handle?”

Keren came over first, finding an empty bar stool and pulling it up as far away from Scott as she could. The love not lost was completely mutual.

“It was cold and packed. There was the stag party and then a group of hens and a retirement do, which was the noisiest of them all. We walked out of one pub and saw a taxi so came back,” Keren said. “Think we’ll head to Nottingham next weekend and get a hotel. Have a proper night out. Can I have a Long Island Iced Tea?” The last was asked of Abby who nodded happily.

“What did you think of Waverford?” Zack asked Sorrell. She had taken off her jacket and was wearing a tiny top that left her abs exposed.

She smiled at him. “It was good fun,” she said. “Lots of people watching. And Rayah watching.”

Rayah had already disappeared over to the other side of the bar where there was a pool game going on. She clearly wanted a game, but no one was up for competing: the men there had already lost too much money to her. Growing up in a family of boys with a strong competitive spirit meant that she was far too adept at winning.

“She’s good for entertainment. Until she’s not. Can I get you a drink?” Zack said, feeling his pulse rate pick up. She could shoot him down with an excuse that she wasn’t having any more or they were in a round or had a kitty going for drinks, but instead she nodded.

“A gin and tonic. Although it might take me all day to pick, there’s that many,” she said, her eyes casting over the range of bottles.

The Last Temperance Bar specialised in beer, gins and tequila. The gins were arranged in one long row on a shelf, their bottles a variety of sizes and shapes and designs. There were the more recognised brands scattered in between small batch gins. And a gin menu that suggested which type of tonic would pair well was on the bar too.

“Try the Boatyard Gin,” Scott said. He hadn’t even glanced at Keren who was doing just as good a job of ignoring him. “It’s one of my favourites.”

Sorrell nodded. “I will. How many do you have?”

“Around fifty different brands. Technically, the bar specialises in craft beers and gins, but we’ve ended up with an extensive cocktail menu too,” Scott said, moving a step closer to Sorrell.

Zack put his now empty pint pot on the bar and caught Abby’s eye. “Another round for everyone. Put Keren and Sorrell’s drinks on my tab too.”

“Thank you,” Sorrell said.

Zack felt relieved, as if he’d taken a step towards something and his path hadn’t been blocked. His brothers and Jake were taking it easy too, not making any obvious comments and giving him space to talk to her. He knew they’d make up for it later, but at least they’d grown out of the sabotage stage.

“I could do with a hand next week,” Sorrell said. They’d commandeered the pool table and had set up a league that a couple of the other locals were taking part in. “I need to hang those fairy lights and some other bits from the roof of the sunroom. Could you help?”

Zack bit his tongue to stop him from replying too quickly.

“It depends which day. I’m free Thursday,” he said. It was a rare day off, one where he had absolutely no plans to set foot in Sunrise.

“Thursday’s good,” Sorrell said. “I could do it myself, but I’m going to need to climb up pretty high and I think it might be safer if I have someone there. You know, in case I fall and bang my head or something.” Her smile was wry.

“Can you wait until then? I have free evenings, apart from Wednesday if you need it done sooner.” He stuck his hands in his pockets to stop himself from touching her.

“Thursday’s fine. I’ll cook you dinner or lunch in return,” she said.

“You’re cooking?’ Keren jumped in. Zack had watched her masterfully avoid being anywhere near Scott in the last couple of hours. “Count me in. What night?”

“Thursday, but you’re in London at that conference,” Sorrell answered quickly. “I’ll cook for you another night.”

“Hold you to it.” Keren gave her a wink and drifted over to the pool table that Scott had just vacated.

It was quicker to walk back to Jake’s and stay in his spare room than head up to his small two bedroomed house on the outskirts of town. The three women had left to return to Rayah’s with the promise of prosecco and pizza, the invitation not extended to any of the other Maynards.

“You like her, don’t you?” Jake said as he passed Zack a bottle of water and two paracetamols in an attempt to ward off any hangover.

“She’s just split from her fiancé,” Zack took them gratefully. “I’m not sure she’s interested in anything other than setting up her business.”

Jake stuck four slices of thick bread under the grill. Another hangover preventative. “So don’t rush her. Just get to know her. Maybe just watch how you look at her. And she doesn’t seem heartbroken. A fling might be what she’s after.”

Zack nodded, getting the butter and jam out of the fridge. “Maybe. We’ll see.” He wasn’t holding out any hopes. And he wasn’t sure a fling was what he was after, either.