Scott’s eyes darkened and he placed a hand on Keren’s shoulder, as if he needed the contact. He’d been one of the team who found Lena and Sorrell when they were in the caves and although Sorrell had been as well as anyone had hoped for, Keren knew Lena’s concussed state and the damage to her leg had been traumatic for her and everyone involved. The man who had hurt her and dragged her into the cave had a target on his head.
“Call him. Fuck it, no, I’ll phone him. He’ll answer to me. Is Lena here now?” Scott said, his hand still on her, the other pulling out his phone.
Stevie nodded. “She’s sitting with Abby in the back and she’s okay, just shaken. She ran from the Underwood road to here and I think she stumbled.”
That wouldn’t have helped her leg which had needed a couple of plates in it and she was still having physio.
“I’ll go check on her and give Sorrell a call,” Keren said. She moved away from Scott’s touch and felt colder, emptier. But she needed to push him to one side and see what she could do to help.
8
The city always seemed tall and imposing, even though Keren was used to the peaks of Severton. High rise buildings, both those from the Victorian era and those from the present day, loomed over them as she and Sorrell walked through Manchester.
They’d met with a friend of Keren’s from university, a dentist working at the Children’s hospital who had told Keren originally about the position that was potentially becoming vacant. Today was a chance to do some shopping, spec out the city and get away from a small town that could be smothering at times.
Lena’s spotting of her attacker had totally diluted the gossip about Keren and Scott, possibly the only good thing that had come of it. People rarely locked their back doors in Severton; quite often even the front doors were unlocked and sometimes left open. It was that sort of town – except when tourist season was in full swing. Lena’s certainty that she had seen her attacker had invoked a mass installation of security lights and alarm systems. Even the phantom artist had changed the paintwork on a couple of the telephone boxes to display security warnings.
“You think you could live here?” Sorrell said, sitting down in a bar on New York Street. Its theme was a chemistry lab, all Edison lightbulbs and copper fittings. Conical flasks were set out around the bar and occasionally smoke arose from a drink. “I don’t miss it at all, although I like coming here to shop once a month.”
“I wouldn’t live in the city centre,” Keren said, although there were now enough apartments. A decade or more ago there had been a big push on getting people to move back into the city and it had taken off, some of the areas becoming completely rejuvenated. “Maybe just outside. Somewhere with more of a smaller, village feel to it.”
Sorrell laughed. So Severton in the suburbs? Come on, Keren. I get the job opportunity, but you’ve already found out that it would be a pay cut because you wouldn’t have your own practice. Which would also mean you wouldn’t be your own boss. And I can’t imagine you doing something somebody else’s way if you didn’t agree with it.”
She had a point. Her friend had given her a little more information on the post: it wasn’t management, literally working as part of a small team to go out to schools in the area, and have clinics at the hospital specifically for children, with some specifically for children with special needs. It appealed to her. But the reality of how much change it would be, and Sorrell’s fair point about not being her own boss, was just hitting her.
“It hasn’t been advertised yet. In fact, the current post-holder hasn’t handed his notice in, so I’ll think about it when the job’s out there. What else do you need to buy?” Keren looked down at the collection of shopping bags that they had accrued.
Sorrell glanced up from the drinks menu. “I’d like another set of really nice bedding for our room,” she said. “So the next time Zack falls asleep with a cup of tea in his hands and proceeds to spill it over the duvet, I definitely have a clean set to put on.”
Keren laughed, well able to imagine that scene. “How is living with Zack?” she said. She’d known him all her life and seen more of him in school than Scott, being just a year younger than the middle Maynard brother.
“It’s really good,” Sorrell said, looking so very happy. “We were pretty much living together from Christmas, just his stuff wasn’t all at mine. But it’s been great getting the cottage like we want it jointly. He’s really good doing the jobs and sharing everything. But he has his areas for improvement.”
“Like not falling asleep holding a cup of tea?”
“There’s that. And a few other things, but they’re actually quite sweet,” she said, still smiling.
“Still in the honeymoon stage then,” Keren said. “I’m not sure I want any more details.”
Sorrell gave her order to the waiter, some strange sounding elixir. Keren made it two, not having had chance to properly study the menu.
“I didn’t think it could be the way it’s been with Zack. I don’t want to go on about it, because it’s sickening when it’s someone else’s relationship but – I can’t talk to Rayah about him and Gwensi’s finally finished with her boyfriend,” Sorrell said, fiddling with the slim thumb ring she wore.
“It’s okay, Ells. I need to live vicariously through someone’s love life so it may as well be yours,” Keren said. She picked up the food menu, knowing that if they had more than a couple of cocktails they were going to need some carbs to soak it up.
“He’s just so easy to be with. I don’t have to worry about having makeup on or slobbing about in my PJ’s for the day. He makes me laugh and does little things like putting a hot water bottle on my side of the bed or running me a bath for when I finish a shift at the hotel,” she said. “I keep pinching myself. I thought things were fine with Mark but now I realise I was…”
“Selling yourself short,” Keren finished. “Zack’s always been a good bloke. And it was obvious from the moment he brought you into town for the first time that he was besotted. He warned his brothers off you very early on.”
Sorrell bit her lips, trying to hide her grin. “I wish you’d meet someone. I know being single can be great and I enjoyed the time I had on my own, but this with Zack is something else. He feels like my partner.”
Keren looked at the menu. “I think I’m going to get the baked camembert starter. Fuck the calories. No one’s judging my hips at the moment.”
“Let’s share it and have the oils and breads too,” Sorrell said. “And there’s a sharing platter we could have for a main.”
Their cocktails arrived in tall glasses with an extra conical flask each that was steaming.
“Here you go ladies,” the waiter said. “These have been paid for by the gentleman at the bar. I made them, he’s been nowhere near them, so you needn’t worry about any added ingredients.”
