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It didn’t look like it was nothing. He looked to be in pain. “Let me see,” Percy said, taking Albie’s arm. He held it gently, seeing a red line burned across his wrist. “You caught it all right. Here, let’s apply some butter. It’s supposed to help.”
Percy took a spoon and shaved off a sliver of butter, then applied it gently to Albie’s arm. Still holding his wrist, now standing so close their bodies were almost touching.
“How do you know such things?” Albie asked quietly.
Percy looked up at his face and had to steady his breathing. His cheeks grew hot, his heart raced, and he had to make himself look away. “I’ve seen it done before,” he murmured. “In the kitchen back home.”
“Hm,” Albie hummed, a low rumbling sound that set fire to Percy’s loins. “Why are you blushing,” he whispered.
Percy’s eyes shot to his, fear and excitement blazing in his veins, just as Des and Robert came through the door.
Percy and Albie shot apart, Percy rushing over to the fire to turn the damper the final quarter turn.
“Dinner’s done,” Albie said.
Percy wasn’t game to turn around. “Damper is almost ready,” he mumbled.
The men sat down and Albie served up his stew, waiting for Percy. Using the kitchen rags, he carefully lifted the pot out from next to the fire and sat it atop the stove. He took out the damper, hoping all hopes it wasn’t a failure.
It certainly looked good. Smelt good too. He carried it over, steaming hot, and placed it in the middle of the table. All three sets of eyes went from the perfectly round damper to Percy.
“You made this?” Des asked.
“Oh, well, yes,” Percy replied. “Let’s see how it tastes first.” He took his seat next to Albie.
“Shall I?” Robert asked, his knife at the top of the damper.
“Please,” Percy said. “See if the knife can cut it. I apologise in advance if it’s no good.”
The knife went through the damper like butter.
Steam rose, and the first slice came out clean. It was baked, at least. Percy waited for the first taste tests, not realising how his happiness hinged on their approval... until Robert’s eyes went wide and he smiled as he chewed. Des sighed, his eyes closed as if he were tasting a long-lost memory, and Albie gave Percy a nod of approval.
Percy could have just about burst.
“You can cook this every night,” Robert said. “Breakfast too, no complaints.”
“Oh,” Percy replied, giving Albie an awkward smile. “I don’t want to take someone’s job.”
Albie smirked as he ate another bite. “Believe me, I’ll not be sad about it.”
Percy noticed the red mark on Albie’s arm then. “How’s your arm?”
“Whadja do?” Des asked, instantly concerned.
“Cooking.” Albie held his wrist up. “It’ll be fine. Just a small burn.”
Robert snorted. “Jeez, boss. You might wanna give the cooking job to Percy. Save yourself some serious injury.”
Percy kept his head down and ate his dinner. He didn’t mean for anything or anyone to belittle Albie’s hard work. When the meal was done, Percy stayed to help clean up.
“Sorry if what they said offended you,” Percy said, taking dirty plates to the kitchen.
“Offended me?” Albie’s eyes were wide. “How on earth was I offended?”
“With the cooking.” Percy took the mugs next. “I’m grateful for any food. I just want you to know, I don’t care what you cook. I’ll eat it and never say a bad word.”
Albie stopped him with that damned smirk. “The other night you said my damper was well-done.”
