Pember nodded, glancing around at the pots and pans littering the countertops. Val had left the fridge half-open and he could see that there was very little inside. In fact, the more he looked around, the more he realised the house was in quite a bad state of disarray.
Clearing his throat, his eyes drifted to her hands. They were frail, the fingers curling in on themselves with the slow debilitation of arthritis.
“Do you have a carer to help you look after the place?” he asked.
Valerie shook her head. “Just the meal delivery boy, but he hasn’t been today. Something about his van breaking down. I was on the phone to him when Cherry escaped.”
Pember gasped. “You haven’t eaten all day?”
Valerie looked taken aback before her expression softened and she patted the back of his hand with her knuckles. “Don’t worry about me. I’m sure things’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”
Pember shot to his feet. “Beef, do you eat beef? A-and dumplings? And bread?” Valerie nodded, looking confused. “Just wait there, Val. I’ll be right back.”
With that, Pember sprinted out of the house, back down the path and into his kitchen. Wrangling everything together, he appeared back at Val’s kitchen table with the pot of stew and a crusty baguette.
“Do you have butter? If not, I can?—”
His eyes flicked to the back door, that had somehow re-opened, and he realised there was a jolly looking corgi sitting on the kitchen mat. It panted up at Pember with a happy expression that was wholly unique to the breed.
“That’s—”
“Blake!” Valerie called, clutching the countertop as she hobbled to the back door. She toed the corgi under its chin with her slipper-clad foot, making its back end wiggle. “Blake, come down here, will you!”
Pember backed away. “O-oh, I can just leave you with the stew, no big deal. It’s all good, I’ll just…”
Blake appeared at the door, all long lines and messy brown hair. He wiped a cloth over his sweaty face and neck before wringing it through his hands. He was wearing those black jogging bottoms again, the ones that clung to his thighs and rode low on his waist, as well as some sort of band T-shirt.
His gaze immediately shifted to Pember, then to the pot in the middle of the table.
“How is it?” Val said, bending to examine some kind of white device propped under Blake’s arm. “Will I be able to breathe at night?”
Blake tore his eyes away from Pember. “Yes,” he said, stiffly placing the machine on the countertop. “I had to spot weld the board, but it should work now.”
His voice was much softer when he spoke to the old alpha, and he sounded kinder. As Val picked up a surgical face mask that was dangling over the side, Pember realised it was a CPAP machine.
“Thank you, poppet. Oh, this is our new neighbour, by the way.”
They both looked at Pember—Val with gentle anticipation, Blake with a tired resignation.
Pember flushed. “N-nice to meet you. I… er… I’ll just be going now?—”
“Nonsense. Sit down,” Val said, gesturing towards the table. “And you.”
She reached up and squeezed Blake’s shoulders, shoving him towards a seat with a surprising amount of strength. He, however, did not relent as easily as Pember.
“No, thanks, I’ll?—”
“Sit down, Blake. You need a good meal. You’re skin and bone.”
He was most certainlynotskin and bone. He was athletic, and long, and his waist was to fucking die for.
Then they were all sitting around the table, forks and spoons clinking against the bowls as they ate the stew. The beef was a little tough because he’d rushed it out of the oven, but the dumplings were fluffy and had absorbed the sauce quite nicely.
Whether or not Blake was enjoying it, he couldn’t tell. His face remained stoic as he ate the meal, only looking down every now again at the corgi at his feet.
“So, what brings you to Bell Lane, sweetie?” Val asked, her false teeth clicking as she chewed the food.
Pember swallowed and looked down at the table. “Oh, well I just felt like it was time to move out. I graduated two years ago and I?—”
