“You taking Sorrell?” Jake said.
“Yes, I’m taking Sorrell. Can you try not to be a complete dick in front of her,” Zack said, yet again earning the wrath of May Pearson.
“You really like her,” Jake said, as if he’d just worked out the meaning of life. “I’ll need to upgrade Alex to my wingman.”
“Jesus, Jake, just… never mind. Make sure Mac is warm. I don’t need a pneumonia case on my hands over Christmas.” Zack hung up.
He looked at his assistant. “Mac’s fine. He’s with that,” he looked at May Pearson who was glaring at him from over her knitting, “lovely, delightful cousin of mine who I am not going to use as a hog roast.”
“He’d make a much better bit of steak,” May said. “Especially his ass.”
“That’s a bad word, May,” Zack said, but she just pretended to be deaf.
Zack dropped Elvira the alpaca off with Jake and made sure for himself that Mac was alive and warm before driving back over to the hotel. He’d managed to have a quick shower after felling a lot of trees and distributing them to the families and businesses that had ordered them. Next weekend was the Christmas Tree Festival, which usually included a parade round the town for the kids and adults to take photos of the trees and garden decorations. Then there was a vote on the best, most unusual and the wackiest and it wasn’t competitive at all, no one treated it as if it was an Olympic event. No one. And Jake didn’t have seven alpacas dressed as reindeer
The large fir tree outside needed its lights up, something he and his brothers would do during the week. The tree tour didn’t come this far up out of town, but they’d always had decorations outside for the residents and their visitors. It was a job he loved, as he knew that each Christmas was likely to be someone’s last and that had always been the motivator: to make sure Christmas Day was as happy as it could be, so memories could be made.
There was Christmas music piping out of the room just off the hallway, the one that had been the residents’ lounge and was now a stylish sitting area for guests. Zack paused outside the door and listened: the music was accompanied by a voice that was completely out of tune but the owner was clearly enjoying belting out the words.
He pushed open the door as slowly as he could, desperate to catch her in the act. Except in bed she held back—observing, controlled, a touch timid—so to hear her sing and see her dance about the room made him feel happy. How could one person being relaxed and smiling make him feel this way? Even when he hadn’t been instrumental in it?
“I didn’t realise you were there?” Sorrell said, stopping dead as soon as she saw him. “I know I can’t sing…”
“You sang like you were enjoying yourself.” He walked straight to her and pulled her into him carefully. She was covered in glitter and had a strand of tinsel in her hair.
“I was,” she said. “I am. I’ve sorted everything into sections and I've got the stepladders out. I started to try to put the lights on, but it was too high and I don’t have the best balance in the world…”
He kissed her because it had been too long since he’d felt her lips against his and he wanted to stop her from explaining herself to him.
She relaxed in his arms and by the time he moved back, wanting to see her, she was smiling again. “How was your afternoon?” he said, picking up the strand of Christmas tree lights which had been neatly wound to make it easier to put them on the tree.
“Good,” she said. “What do you know about Lena who works here?”
He opened the stepladders and climbed up to the top, starting to unwind the lights. “She was part of the religious group that lives at Felley Manor in Underwood,” he said. “I think she went to university early to try to get away…”
“Slow down,” Sorrell said. “By religious organisation do you mean a cult?”
“Something like that. It’s called Church of the Seven Saints or something like that and it’s been here since the sixties. My dad can tell you more about it,” he said, wrapping the lights round quickly. It was a big tree and Sorrell had ordered a lot of ornaments, all in whites and golds.
“So where’s Lena living now?” Sorrell said. “She doesn’t travel from Underwood each day—she said she only lives in the town.”
Zack balanced on one leg to try and hook the lights round the tree. It was a practiced move, and one made easier by the fact that his brothers weren’t there to rock the stepladders. There had been one Christmas when he’d had his arm in a cast after Scott had been a little too overenthusiastic in pretending he was Spiderman when putting the tree topper on. Their mum had not been impressed.
“I think she lives with her aunt. Not all the members live at Felley Manor. Some live in town, most live in Astley. It’s harmless enough, but I think it’s quite strict and the kids aren’t allowed to mix with outsiders,” he said, bringing both feet onto the ladder. The fiddliest bit was now done.
“That explains a lot. Do you want me to pass you the angel for the top while you’re there?” she said, holding a carefully made tree topper with large feathered wings.
Zack stepped down. “I’m not sure I want to leave you on top of the tree for all of Christmas.”
He knew it was the corniest line and if she ever repeated it, it would probably end up being engraved on his tombstone.
She blushed, her eyes crinkling in embarrassment and then she laughed. He reached for her waist and pulled her close for another kiss. “Let’s put the angel up there when it’s all done,” he said. “Leave that till last.”
It was a good two hours later when the tree was finished. Lena had arrived to help any guests during the evening while Sorrell was out and Abby had come to work the bar and keep an eye on Lena. Their reactions to the tree had made Sorrell smile even more which seemed to be the aim of his day: keep her smiling, making her happy.
He drove down into town. Usually, he would’ve walked the mile and a bit, but the pavements were treacherous even with the grit that had been laid. The snow had ceased temporarily, although more was predicted overnight, which meant another early morning to sort out animals and clear the roads with the tractor and the plough. They parked on a side street at the start of the town near the river, Zack racing round to open Sorrell’s door and help her out.
“I can manage,” she said, gripping his arm anyway.
