“I’m not worried about my sister.” Jake looked to the heavens as if praying for sanity. “She can take care of herself. I’m more concerned with the cop she persuaded to let her into the police station overnight and his gullibility.”
“Holy fuck,” Zack said. “Sorry for swearing, Gran.”
“What about apologising to me, young Zachariah? She’s heard it all before! My ears are sensitive!” May Pearson said as she doddered past on her walking frame, cursing quietly under her breath.
“Never changed, that woman.” Gran shook her head. “I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to see about taking the post down with me. Hopefully catch the van before he buggers off to the depot.” She strutted off, quicker than anticipated, leaving the cousins and an alpaca watching her and shaking their heads.
“Are you getting that thing out of here or are we finding it a room and a suitable health package?” Zack said, aware that the alpaca was making another snorting noise and now headbutting Jake’s shoulder.
“You could use him as a therapy pet,” Jake said. “But I’m not sure he could cope with continual reruns ofLove BoatandBaywatch.”
Zack snorted. “Like you would ever turn offBaywatch. I remember when your Saturday evenings were spent studying those red swimsuits and what filled them.”
Jake nodded, not even attempting to deny it. “At least I moved on. I’m pretty sure Alex still spends most evenings doing that. Maybe he should save paying for the electricity and watch with Mr McNeild. Come with me while I put Emery here back in the field.”
Zack watched his cousin shift the pack of alpacas towards the shed that would be their night time quarters, away from the care home. He did it with ease and without any apprehension around the animals, which Zack understood. He’d grown up on his father’s farm and had worked the land and looked after the animals, but neither he nor his two brothers had been interested in carrying it on. Luckily for their father, Jake had. Stupidly bright and ridiculously charismatic, he’d only agreed to go to university because he’d been told he wouldn’t be allowed to get a job running the family farm without a degree, so he’d spent three years passing modules easily and sleeping his way around Sheffield.
Zack had been there too, studying social policy and planning to be a social worker in a big city where he could help children in crisis, but he’d ended up broken-hearted and working in adult social care instead, trying to avoid his ex who was with children’s social services. And then his uncle had needed a manager for Sunlight so he’d followed Jake home.
“It’s a shitter about the hotel manager nicking all your builders,” Jake said after he’d locked the shed and headed back to Zack. It was near to the end of October and dark already, even though it wasn’t yet dinner time. “I heard in the pub she’d asked around to find out how much they were getting per day from working on Sunlight and then offered fifty percent more.”
Zack felt his shoulders tense. “She offered them what?”
Jake shrugged. “I heard it was fifty percent per day more than what they were getting. It’s only for three weeks though and then they’re back on your job. It isn’t the end of the world.”
“No, it’s the end of fucking Christmas.” Zack started to walk away from Sunlight and the fields. He didn’t need to confirm with Jake where they were going, it was the same place they went most Fridays: the Buffer Stop for a beer, before going home to shower and head to Scott’s bar for food and drinks and, occasionally, a woman.
“That’s a bit Scrooge-like.”
Zack shook his head. “We needed the hall finished to be able to hold the Christmas dinners. There’s not another room big enough. When we were in Litton Manor, there was the ballroom.”
“So what’ll you do?”
“I don’t know. We’ve more residents than last year as it is. I could see about using one of the hotels towards Manchester or Sheffield, but I’m not sure some of the residents would cope with the travelling. Seriously, the only answer I’ve got at the moment is beer and tequila. Or having words with the hotel princess. Stupid idea anyway, setting up a boutique hotel in Severton. Who’s going to stay here?” Zack pushed his fingers through his thick hair. He knew it would be stuck up in every direction by now, due to alpacas, site managers, and open doors, plus an unknown hotel manager, but he didn’t care.
“I think it’s a good idea. In summer, the tourist season’s booming. Especially now the steam trains are running up here. Scott’s considering buying the property next door and expanding the bar and there’s talk of a festival being held next year. The town’s growing again, and not just the over seventy sector.” Jake shrugged strong shoulders. “I’m gutted we didn’t think of turning the Manor into a hotel.”
“Because you would’ve given up your sheep and cows to run it?” Zack knew full well the answer to that was no.
“Fuck off. It’s your round.”
Zack stopped, looking towards the road they’d just passed, the one that led to Litton Manor. “Actually, I’m going to have a word first about poaching my builders.”
Jake groaned. “Really? What’s it going to achieve? You’ll just piss her off. Leave it and let’s get to the pub. I’m dying for a beer.”
“It’s go now, or go when I’ve finished at Scott’s and I’m telling you, now is the better option. Doesn’t she realise that she’s alienating herself by blackmailing my builders to go to her? She’ll need the support of local businesses to be successful…” Zack carried on talking as he paced through the gates towards the imposing building, sheltered by old, tall oak trees and manicured shrubbery.
“This isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had,” Jake said. “You smell of disinfectant and I smell of alpacas and I’m pretty sure I have straw in my hair.”
“Jake, it’s some crony old woman who’s probably only ever close to a man when she’s trying to hex him. She’s not going to be the source of your next fucking blow job,” Zack said and banged heavily on the door.
There was no sign of life. If she had poached his builders, they were all packed up for the night, which given it was Friday, didn’t surprise him.
“Leave it, Zack. She’s probably out for the night. Or gone away for the weekend. Would you want to stay in this place on your own?” Jake said, turning back towards the road.
Zack knocked again, swearing under his breath. He was pissed and he needed someone to argue with. She—Sorrell, or whatever stupid name it was—would fill that need.
“She’s not in. Let’s leave it and go get that beer. Seriously, I’m parched and I want to go home and get ready. Amy Canning’s mate from Sheffield is meant to be out tonight,” Jake said.
