Ianto had spent half his day off in the kitchen, preparing a sumptuous dinner. He didn’t often get the opportunity to cook a meal from scratch, but Martha and Tom’s visit definitely merited putting in that extra effort.
A leg of lamb was roasting in the oven, gravy and various vegetables were simmering on top of the stove, and he’d even made Yorkshire puddings; not exactly a traditional Welsh dish, but he knew how much Jack liked them.
Then Jack phoned. “Ianto? Don’t bother cooking; we’re eating out. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.”
Jack was a dead man!