“No. I wouldn’t have called Scott anything like that, other than to his face when we were taking the piss out of each other. I had no idea he liked me in that way and from what he said, he felt pretty serious about it,” Keren said, looking to the ceiling and pushing back tears that had weirdly filled her eyes.
“Okay,” Sorrell said. “So he’s had a hate on you for years and you responded to his change by sparring back. That’s defined your relationship. What led to you kissing the first time?”
“We were rowing. It was a hate-kiss.”
“Passionate.”
Keren nodded. “I could’ve slept with him in the bar, but I was so mad with him and what he was saying. The second time was Tuesday.”
“When you went to speak to him. You really hurt him. I think his reaction took us all back,” Sorrell said.
Keren stirred her drink with her straw. “It did me. He explained a bit more about how he felt. And then he asked me out.”
“Let me guess. You said no?”
“Correct.”
“Why?”
“Because he thought too little of me to believe the person who told him I called him a weird muso and that… you heard it before. I thought he knew me. I wouldn’t have said that about him,” Keren said, feeling that anger beginning to bubble again.
“But you’re not one hundred percent you don’t want to go out with him,” Sorrell said. “Because it wouldn’t be one date.”
“And I don’t know whether I want to stay in Severton. And there are things about him that I don’t know how I’d cope with: we row with each other because we both get off on it, Ells. That’s not healthy.”
“Some couples are like that. As long as you talk and you’re communicating and the balance of power is that – balanced – then it can be healthy,” Sorrell said. “I think starters are here.”
“Are you going to tell me what to do?” Keren said, slightly cross that she was no closer to a solution.
“No.”
“I thought you were a therapist.”
“I am,” Sorrell confirmed. “But therapists don’t tell you what to do. They simply help you order your thoughts and feelings and address them so you can find a solution. I need another cocktail. See if you can get our waiter’s attention.”
Keren rolled her eyes. She guessed they’d be getting Zack to pick them up from the station. There was no way Sorrell would be able to walk home without spraining something.
9
Scott sat down on the stool, his fingers moving up and down the guitar strings. Every other Sunday was acoustic night, when anyone could sign up for a slot with a set number of tracks. This Sunday they had a folk duo who brought a big following with them, a young lad in his last year at college and Marley Washington, who had long brown hair and a voice with a huge range. She should’ve been professional, but instead ran a garden design business. She’d also spent several nights in his bed, often after a Sunday acoustic night and the eyes she’d made when she’d wandered in suggested she’d be up for a repeat.
He wasn’t sure he was.
“How’s it going?” Zack brought him a pint and sat down next to him. He hadn’t seen much of his brother since their housewarming last week. The care home and Sorrell took up a lot of his time, and he knew that he was helping at the hotel as well in order to give him and Sorrell more time together.
Scott nodded in response. He was last on set tonight, closing everything up. He wasn’t in the mood for anything upbeat, in fact it was just the opposite. Tonight he would be singing the songs of his people and his people were those men who couldn’t have the woman they wanted. “Shit,” he said. No point in lying.
“Why’s that?”
Scott looked at him, fighting the urge to give him a small punch. He had his nice house and his woman. He’d put money on them having kids in another year or so.
“Time of the year,” he said, watching the clientele enter. Sunday acoustic nights were usually trouble-free. The crowd usually had beards and drank craft ale, meaning that they were relaxed and easy going, unlike the Saturday night lager drinkers. He was debating ceasing the sale of lager anyway. Then the drinkers of it would fuck off somewhere else.
“Time of the month,” Zack said. “She’s driving you mad, isn’t she?”
“Who?” Scott asked. “There’s any number of women for you to pick from.”
Zack shook his head. “There’s only one. Keren.”
