Page 16

APPLE PIE

Pember

Oddly, the sound of Cherry and Val shouting at one another from behind the paper-thin wall brought Pember immense comfort that evening. He grinned whilst slipping off his boots and propping them on the mat. Bailey whined by the back door, desperate to be let out.

“Sorry, my girl!” he said, jogging across the living room and opening the back door.

As he stared at the scruffy patch of grass beyond the patio, realising that he really needed to do something about the state of the back garden.

He’d discovered an ancient-looking lawnmower and rusty pruners in the shed the day he got the keys, but had put off cutting the grass until the place really felt like home.

In fact, the house still didn’t feel like home, even after his impromptu shopping trip. He was still convinced that the whole enterprise that was his new life would come crashing down around him at any moment.

Wrenching the lawnmower free from its mess of tangled wires, he managed to cut the grass with a little negotiation. However, the elderflower bush creeping over his back fence was proving to be a problem, with the weight of it pushing on the slats and making the fence bend.

Then, a fanciful thought popped into his head. What if I made elderflower wine? He’d seen the home brewing kits in the supermarket—they were reasonably priced, if a little cumbersome.

It was just simple chemistry, right? Brewing and fermenting was just enzymology with its amylases, lipases, proteases and cellulases.

He could drink it with his colleagues in the summer…

but Wallace said he didn’t want another biocatalytic event, so perhaps it was a bad idea.

He could share it with Val, but reasoned it might kill her, and he did not need that on his conscience.

Oliver was constantly busy with work and the kids.

There was always Blake, but… absolutely not.

Choosing to save the elderflower harvest for another day, he trudged back into the house, peeled off his clothes and threw them next to the washing machine. It wasn’t until after his shower he realised just how abysmal he must have smelled. Sweat, blood and death. A stench wholly unique to the job.

Pulling on a T-shirt and denim shorts, he took Bailey for another walk in the woods. She nipped and pawed at his feet, clearly desperate for him to shift so they could run together, but Pember just kept his head down and looked to the path ahead.

Despite stumbling and tripping through the undergrowth more times than he cared to admit, he eventually found himself back at the copse of apple trees.

The same sweet smell drifted into his nostrils, and he couldn’t help but pluck one from a low-hanging branch.

The sharp crunch of its ruby skin was glorious, and juice dribbled over his chin.

He licked his lip whilst staring up at the pale pink blossoms swaying in the early evening breeze.

Then, he panicked. Was it stealing? Would the tree police suddenly appear if they caught wind of his exploits? Pulling out his phone, he yanked the business card free from where he’d slotted it into the back of the case and texted the one person who would definitely know the answer.

‘ Is eating apples in the woods considered stealing? ’ Followed by, ‘ It’s Pember, by the way. Val’s fine, she and Cherry are arguing in the kitchen. ’

He was about to text again, telling him not to worry about the apple thing, when three dots popped up on the screen.

‘ Are you felling the whole tree? ’ came Blake’s reply.

Pember snorted, imagining himself in a flannel shirt and wielding an axe.

‘ No, just one apple. ’

‘ Perfectly legal. ’

He sighed and took another bite. ‘ Phew. Thanks. ’

‘ But I’ll have to inform the wildlife officer. ’

Pember stopped mid-chew and blinked. He couldn’t tell if the alpha was joking. ‘ I understand. I’m sorry, ’ he replied, just to be sure.

After a brief pause, Blake texted back, ‘ I was taking the piss. ’

‘ Very funny. Does Val like apple pie? ’

‘ Thinking of felling the tree after all? ’

Pember shifted from foot to foot, crunching loudly as he tried to think of a witty comeback. As his fingers hovered over the screen, there came another message.

‘ I like apple pie. Does that count? ’

Pember’s mouth twitched into a half smile. ‘ Do you have crippling arthritis and an unreliable food delivery guy? ’

‘ No, but I may have frostbite in my toes. ’

‘ Why? ’

‘ I’m at the morgue. Lily and I are waiting with the body. ’

‘ Already? ’

‘ Yes. Maya helped the pathologist take evidential swabs at the scene. The family were becoming restless again so we thought it safer to move him to the morgue and expedite the post-mortem. ’

A pang of jealousy shot through Pember’s belly. Of course Maya was the reasonable choice to take the swabs—she was experienced and thorough, and Pember was… new.

Squashing the feelings, he messaged back. ‘ When’s the post-mortem? ’

‘ Tomorrow morning. As soon as the coroner arrives we’ll get the body booked in. She’s on another case so we’ll be waiting a while. ’

Pember glanced at his phone, it was already six thirty in the evening.

‘ Wow. Long day for you. ’

‘ It always is. ’

The conversation tapered off after that, so Pember picked enough apples to fill his pockets, called Bailey and made the walk back home. The wolf niggled at the back of his mind again, but he pushed it down.

Val and Cherry were still going at it as he peeled and chopped the apples, their frustrated back-and-forth reaching an almost deafening volume.

Of course, Cherry didn’t actually talk, she just mimicked what Val said, only in an extremely robotic and patronising manner.

Pember suspected that Val just wanted someone to talk to.

He sighed as he pulled the molten apple pie out of the oven. The top was crispy, but he worried the fruit might be too sweet. Regardless, he padded over to Val’s house and knocked on the door as loudly as he could. Eventually, she looked up from her chair and waved him inside.

“Poppet! How’re you doing? Any trouble?”

Pember shook his head and slid the glass dish onto the table, resting the oven gloves over the back of a chair. “All good, thank you. How’ve you been today?”

“Braaa! Fuck off you old hag! Braaa!” Cherry cawed, followed by a series of clicks and whistles. She was sitting on top of a kitchen cabinet, grinding her beak on a cuttlebone. Pember covered his mouth, trying not to laugh.

“Nice to see you too, Cherry.”

“What did you say?” Val shouted, rapidly pressing a button on her hearing aid.

Pember moved to stand in front of her. “I said it’s nice to see you!”

Her face relaxed as she read his lips. “Oh! Yes.” Her watery eyes drifted to the apple pie. “Is that for me?”

Pember nodded, suddenly worrying that he’d overstepped the mark. “Y-you don’t have to eat it, I just thought… maybe… you’d like some comp?—”

Val clapped a hand over her chest, her clawed fingers catching in the trim of her blouse.

“I haven’t had a pretty omega make apple pie for me in years. Not since my Earnie passed on.” Her expression crumpled, gaze drifting towards some dusty picture frames in the corner of the room. Pember flushed, because the old alpha seemed genuinely taken aback at the offer.

Sitting down to eat, Val chewed slowly, eyes closing as though finding pleasure in every bite. Looking at her filled Pember with an immense amount of satisfaction, and it seemed to tickle some repressed part of his brain that just wanted to care for another person.

They ate in silence for a little while, the only sounds coming from the clink of their spoons on the chipped floral bowls.

Pember glanced around, eyes falling on a deep layer of dust and grime coating the sink, crusty splodges all over the wooden floors and the black soot stains surrounding the fireplace was like another layer of wallpaper.

The house was in such a state of disarray that he couldn’t tell what was new or old dirt.

Then he had an idea.

“Hey, Val. Could you tell me about Earnie? I’d love to hear about how you met.”

Val’s eyes brightened, the deep wrinkles of her brow disappearing underneath the wispy white hair. She smiled. An honest to God, joyous smile.

“Yes!”

She shuffled over to the picture frames, plucking two up from the filthy, oversized Welsh dresser. It was stuffed to the brim with faded commemorative plates of the Royals. Cherry hopped onto the table as Val placed the photographs in front of him.

“Beautiful, isn’t he?”

Pember’s brow twitched because he could barely see anything through the dust. He wiped the hem of his T-shirt over the glass.

“They’re a bit dusty. I can’t see him very well.”

The old alpha nodded. “I know. But I don’t need the pictures to see him.”

Pember jerked his head up, concerned she was about to say she had a ghost living in the house.

Instead, she tapped her temple, followed by her chest. Pember swallowed and looked back down at the photograph.

The sepia image had smoothed out most of the details, making the shadows darker and lights more faded.

However, he couldn’t help but smile at what he saw.

A snapshot in time where a much younger version of Valerie stood with her arm around a slender, fair-haired man.

She looked proud as punch as she pulled him to her chest, her broad shoulders and long, dark hair a reminder of the woman she had once been.

Earnie was clutching an overstuffed suitcase in both hands, his smile wide and toothy.

“He’d just come back from China,” she said, resting her chin on the back of her hand. “He was building an orphanage over there. It’s how we met.”

Pember let out a breath. “That’s incredible.”