THEIR story reads like the script of a TV soap opera.

Torn apart by divided loyalties, undermined by outsiders and overwhelmed by the cheque book of a global company, the Theakston family have been the subject of idle bar room gossip for decades.

They are the brewing family which very publicly imploded on the doorsteps of the leafy farming community of Masham.

Their wranglings took them all the way to the High Court in their quest to find a business solution to the phenomenal success of their beer.

And now they are writing yet another chapter, possibly the epilogue, to one of Yorkshire's worst family disputes.

In truth, the brew is about the only palatable aspect of the Theakston saga.

T&R Theakston had brewed ale in the North Yorkshire village for more than a century before the cracks began to appear.

Struggling to cope with growing demand for brands such as Old Peculier - a name marking Masham's heritage as an ecclesiastical court without a bishop - and XB, the brewing family needed capital to grow.

They wanted to buy the state-owned Carlisle brewery and so Paul Theakston, managing director at the tender age of 23 after the untimely death of his father, Frank, travelled to London to find extra funds.

He returned home with a new partner, a firm by the name of London Trust, which bought a 48 per cent stake in Theakston's, reducing the family's holding to 25 per cent.

This arrangement was satisfactory until one shareholder, who owned 20 per cent of the company, went into partnership with an asset stripper.

Paul locked horns with his uncle, Michael Theakston, as Blackburn brewer Matthew Brown and Scottish distiller Grant's of Glenfiddich competed for a share of the brewer.

The smell of money was too much for some family members, and the disagreement spilled over into the courts.

But Paul's determination won through, and Matthew Brown became a new shareholder.

Ultimately, the deal was to cost him his tenure at the company, which was built up many years before by his great, great grandfather Robert Theakston, who set up the brewery in 1827.

Scottish & Newcastle (S&N) snapped up Matthew Brown in 1987 and Paul was offered a different role in the company.

Faced with moving from his beloved North Yorkshire home to new headquarters on Tyneside, he set out alone, intent on keeping his love of brewing firmly rooted in Masham.

But the trials and tribulations were far from over. Paul wanted to revive another Masham brewery, Lightfoots, which was taken over and closed by his grandfather 70 years earlier.

In keeping with business relations immediately before S&N's intervention, Paul's desire to run Lightfoots foundered when the cross-border brewer registered the name.

The alternative was a stroke of genius.

The Black Sheep Brewery name encapsulated the whole sorry saga - it summed up the family feuding and, on a lighter note, reflected the sheep farming heritage of Masham.

Since then, Black Sheep has gone from strength to strength on the back of quality beer.

Some believe that much of the animosity that once existed has been lost in the bottom of a pint pot.

However, the decision by S&N to sell Theakston back to the family from which it took its name threatens to re-open rifts that time had, perhaps, healed.

The decision to release news of the Theakston family's interest in the brewery was a curious one.

Why announce a deal was near to completion when there is still so much that can go wrong?

Perhaps the tongues that have wagged in the alehouses of Masham for so long are once again working overtime.

It seems the appetite for the Theakston story remains unquenchable.