“I’ve known them since they were in their mammas’ bellies,” Gran said, starting to weigh each of the parcels. “They’re good boys. Zack especially. He was the cleverest at school and should’ve done a degree other than social work, because heaven knows that’s a poorly paid career, but he was adamant about changing lives. He just needs someone to make him happy outside of what he does now.” Her eyes were shining with expectation.
“We’ve only been on one date,” Sorrell said. “I don’t think marriage is in the cards quite yet.” Then she remembered what the date was and what would’ve been happening right now, touching the bare finger where her engagement ring had been.
“Friday the thirteenth was never a date to set as your wedding, dear,” Gran said, her eyes not missing anything.
“How did you know?” Sorrell asked, knowing it was a stupid question. This was Severton: someone somewhere would have done a background check.
Gran shook her head. “I know anyway, but Zack came in here and told me. He wasn’t sure how to go about making sure you were over it and he wasn’t going to be a rebound.”
“He’s not going to be a rebound,” Sorrell said, knowing if he was, she wouldn’t have been making such good use of the vibrator Gwensi had recommended this past week.
Gran nodded. “I figured as much.”
“How?” Sorrell was curious. She’d only met Gran a couple of times, and only once when Zack was about.
“I’ve never seen him so—focused—on a woman. He’s had plenty of girlfriends, don’t get me wrong. Never as many as Jake, but he and Scott are no retiring virgins. But he’s been in here several times and has mentioned you. Nothing specific, so don’t get your Victoria’s Secrets in a twist. You’ve just been in his conversations.”
Sorrell tried not to look too pleased, but then her stomach started to tighten lower down, that horrible anxious feeling rumbling through her. “Is it too soon?”
“For what?” Gran said, sticking a label onto one of the presents. “Last post before Christmas? You’ve got ages before that.” She was being deliberately obtuse, Sorrell could tell.
Sorrell gave a short laugh. “No. For a date with a man when I should’ve been marrying another.”
Gran rested both arms on the counter. “You only get one shot at this life, dear. If you spend months waiting for an acceptable time to do anything, you’re going to miss out on lots. Timing is decided only by you. If you think it’s too soon because it’s not fair on Zack as you’re still hung up on your ex-fiancé…”
“I’m not,” she said. “And he’s hardly pining for me.” She’d seen his Facebook status: he’d been tagged as being in a relationship with a woman she’d never heard of. She hadn’t clicked on her profile, not needing to know anything about her, or wanting to either.
“So what was today, dear, apart from the biggest waste of money you’d have parted with?” Gran said, continuing with the parcels.
“The day I potentially set myself up to be a divorcee within a couple of years,” she said, feeling the brutality of such honesty as sharply as the cold air outside.
“So doing whatever our Zack has planned is just a date with an attractive man. With the potential to check out his equipment at the end of it,” Gran added.
Sorrell’s jaw dropped, slightly stunned that this woman who was certainly in her seventies was referring to Zack’s ‘equipment’.
Gran laughed quietly. “You know; the equipment he uses for your date. As in the activity…. What did you think I meant?”
“She knew exactly what you meant.” Maud strode behind the counter. “Ignore the silly old bat. It’s been that long since she’s seen a penis she thinks a ball sack is something rugby players use.”
“And how long is it since you saw a man’s appendage?” Gran said. “Batty old cow yourself.”
“I saw Harold Wilmott’s barely two weeks ago. It was a shame…”
“And stop right there.” Sorrell lifted her hand to make sure that the ladies knew she really did mean stop. She had no desire to hear anything about Harold Wilmott’s penis, in case she ever had to look him in the eye. “How much is the postage?”
Gran gave her an amount that was definitely more than she would’ve paid for a train ticket to see her sister.
Sorrell settled up, only giving half an ear to the rest of Maud and Gran’s conversation, most of which was focused on penises, their length and girth. She left the post office slightly concerned about the nightmares she would have later and walked straight into Zack, all six feet two of solid farm boy muscle.
“Merry Christmas to me,” he said, smiling down at her. “Is it safe in there?”
“They’re discussing penises. And who’s seen one most recently.”
He stooped down, dropped two large hessian sacks on the floor and put both his arms around her. It was the first real public display of affection they’d had, short of a very discreet kiss in a pub a few weeks ago.
“I’m not sure if I’m safe going in there,” he said. “Last time they were having that debate they asked me if I’d ever sent any dick pics. Then they started discussing how to hack into The Cloud.”
“That isn’t in the slightest bit disturbing.” Sorrell found her hands had automatically located themselves on Zack’s stomach, under his jacket. “I’m mauling you in public.”
