“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’sWake Me Up Before You Go-Gofilling 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.”
