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Quite right. Now put the pan in the oven. Here, take the cloth. On the second shelf - I want the top one for the Yorkshire pudding."
Bryan obeyed, but not without uttering a shrill yelp.
"Burn yourself?"
"Just a bit. It doesn't matter. What a dangerous game cooking is!"
"I suppose you never do your own cooking?"
"As a matter of fact I do – quite often. But not this sort of thing. I can boil an egg – if I don't forget to look at the clock. And I can do eggs and bacon. And I can put a steak under the grill or open a tin of soup. I've got one of those little electric whatnots in my flat."
"You live in London?"
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"If you call it living – yes."
His tone was despondent. He watched Lucy shoot in the dish with the Yorkshire pudding mixture.
"This is awfully jolly," he said and sighed.
Her immediate preoccupations over, Lucy looked at him with more attention.
"What is - this kitchen?"