Page 51 of Starting Over at Halesmere House
‘I think you’ll have to.’
Alice was on Zac’s left side, and she took his hand. ‘Use your palm to hold it steady; curve it with your fingers around the clay, with some pressure, like this.’
‘What about the pedal? Shouldn’t the wheel be moving?’ His voice was low, and that same quiver darted across her skin, hair brushing his face.
‘Not quite yet.’ She slid her fingers over his. ‘Now bring your right hand down, in a fist, right in the centre and use the same pressure in both.’
She leaned across to flip some water over the clay. ‘Press the wheel, gently, otherwise the clay will probably fly off. That’s good, no faster.’ She let go of his hands.
‘Where are you going?’ His were on the clay and it shot sideways, crashing into a heap on the edge of the wheel. ‘Look what happens when you leave me alone.’
‘So what are you suggesting?’ She knew it and he’d already stopped the wheel and pushed the stool back to stand up.
‘I think you’re going to have to show me how to do it.’
Alice took his place, pulling the stool closer to the wheel; her legs were simply not as long as his. The wheel was wet, and she dried it; the clay wouldn’t stick to the surface otherwise. She took another piece of clay and slapped it down onto the wheel, tried again when the first didn’t land dead centre. She was utterly aware of Zac right behind her, and she inched forward on the stool.
‘Maybe there’s room for you to sit down too, then you can follow my hands, feel the pressure I’m using.’
She felt the stool sink under his weight, uncaring that she was pressed between him and the tray surrounding the wheel. His chest was firm against her back as his arms came around her, conscious of his hands covering hers around the clay, thumbs stroking them absently. He dropped a single word into her ear, breath light on her skin.
‘Better?’
‘Not for my concentration. I really am trying to teach you, but I don’t think us sitting like this is helping much with your lesson.’
‘Sorry.’ His lips caught on her earlobe, and she gasped. Her head tilted onto his shoulder, and he accepted her silent invitation to let his mouth trail across her neck.
‘I don’t think you are sorry.’ Her own voice was husky, and she had no idea what was happening with the clay. She looked down. It was still in her hands, just. ‘We should try again.’
Zac shifted so Alice could tuck her left elbow against her waist and his forearm was beside hers on the tray. She flipped a little water over the clay again, his left hand around hers.
‘See how I’m leaning to my left, using my weight to apply pressure through my hand?’ She brought her right hand down on the clay in a fist. ‘This is the same pressure. We want the clay to be fixed and firm on the wheel, so it doesn’t slide off.’
Aware of Zac’s nod, she was almost past caring about the supposed lesson, the clay slipping across the wheel, with him so very close. She tried again, keeping the wheel steadily turning with the pedal beneath her foot, fixing her concentration on that as best she could and not him at her back, pressed against her, hands wet and messy around hers. A minute later, just when Alice thought they were improving, her hand slipped and the clay shot off the wheel, splattering them both.
‘I think we should give up.’ She had to laugh. ‘We’re not exactly making progress and I’ve got to clean up the studio before we leave.’
‘It was a lot of fun. I wouldn’t mind doing this with you again.’
‘Sure? Even though your shirt’s in a bit of a mess?’
‘I can change it. And you’re not much better.’ Zac offered a hand to pull her upright. ‘Those dungarees are covered.’
‘I’ve brought something else with me. Do you have any suggestions on where to eat?’
‘I know a nice pub a few miles away. Would you like to try it?’
‘What about your dad?’ Alice bit her lip. ‘I feel like we’ve abandoned him.’
‘I dropped in something earlier he can just stick in the microwave. He doesn’t mind and he can’t sit on the bed all day; he needs to move.’
‘As long as you’re sure he’s all right?’
‘I am.’ Zac looked around the studio. ‘Let’s clear up and then we can go.’
They had a lovely dinner in the pub, one Alice had never visited before. A roaring fire and Christmas decorations were cheery, although they were a reminder, as if she needed another one, that she and Zac would be going their separate ways when the holidays came. Would he miss her too? Single by choice, she was certain he wouldn’t be for long if he decided to date again. He was temporary in every sense, and she would only think of now.
Conversation came easily and Alice shared her plans and hopes for the future of the Flower Shed. Zac offered nothing more about his new job and she didn’t ask, wondering if she was the only one who didn’t want to mention it. When they returned to the barn, Neil’s bedroom door was open and he was watching television with his leg propped up, another ice pack underneath it. He greeted them cheerfully, telling them about his latest visitors, including Pearl again, who’d brought him a cake from the shop.
