6.

Note to self. If you stopped practising a skill for more than a few years, there is a good chance you could forget the basics.

Ayesha’s fingers were muddied by wet clay. She had started her pottery class a week before. At first, she went out to buy a wheel, intending to practise in her apartment to kill time. After three failed attempts and a mess to clean up, she decided it was best to sign up for a class. She found a few cheap classes online, then settled for the one that best suited her. An hour thirty minutes a day for three days a week.

She enjoyed her classes, but everything was more difficult than when she was a kid. Her teacher Daniela was also the owner of a well-known pottery shop called Made for Homes. The class was held in a spacious room behind the store. It held fifteen students at a time. The pottery wheels for students were arranged in front of the teachers. Ayesha sat in the middle, looking on as Daniela demonstrated how to centre for the umpteenth time.

When the class ended, she was delightfully exhausted. While the other students began to clear out, she stood by the table to admire her shabby first try at a bowl.

“Your bowl looks lovely.” Ayesha complimented the girl, who blushed from the praise. Giselle was the best in their class.

“Thanks. Yours looks good too.”

“Ay, your politeness will never let you tell the truth. Look at that horrendous thing.”

“At least it’s decent. Look at my bowl of evidence.” Rebecca looked down at her own. It was dented in different areas, probably by the pads of her fingers. They ogled it for a while before bursting out laughing, doubling over. Rebecca continued to blithe her work, wheezing out her words. “Proof that I did this.”

They left their day's work to dry. One by one, they signed out on the register. Ayesha packed her bag and signed out but didn’t leave immediately. She had a habit of staying behind a few minutes after class to look at the various decors that were sold in the store.

As a kid, all she ever made were tiny cups and spoons. Here, there was so much more than that. Vases of various shapes, sizes and colours. Utensils, pens, paintbrushes. They even made their own shaping tools and sold them as well.

Everything was elegant. From objects made from clay to those made from porcelain. Ayesha couldn't remember the last time she had anything remotely expensive in her house. Her plates were cheap, and so were all the vases and cups.

The front door slid open, and she averted her eyes from the shelf to turn to the door. Pleasantly surprised, she watched Dimitri walk into the store. He smiled at the girl who came to speak to him. They stood by the door, speaking in low tones while Ayesha tried not obviously stare. Something he said made the lady smile, and she nodded, gesturing towards the other side of the room.

With a nod from Dimitri, she hurried away, passing by Ayesha. Dimitri spotted her almost immediately. She waved at him, walking over to where he stood.

“Hi.”

It had been over two weeks since he returned her bag. From the surprise plastered on his face, she reasoned that he was equally shocked to see her there.

“Hello. What are you doing here?”

“Taking a class. I signed up for one of the pottery classes here.”

“You like pottery?”

“When I was younger, it was one of my favourite things to do. I am trying to get back into it, you know, to serve as a way to fill the empty hours of my day.”

“Finding life here boring already?”

“No.” she laughed, shaking her head for emphasis. “No. All I do is work. When I am not working, there is nothing else to do. I didn’t want to get a second job. That would have been too much. So, I settled for finding some classes to take.”

“Classes? You are also doing something else aside from pottery.”

“Not yet. Still looking at other classes that are of interest. I was thinking of taking a driving class or online classes for photography. Both are things I always wanted to learn how to do, but I never seem to get around to doing it.”

“Keeping yourself busy is good.” He moved to stand closer to her. “I think you were right to come here. Daniella is as great a teacher as she is a creator.”

“What are you doing here? Do you also take classes?”

“No. Came to buy some things for my new home.”

“Are you moving?”

“Not exactly. I haven’t lived here in a while. Actually, the day I got back into town was the day I ran into you, no pun intended.” He chuckled, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I decided to settle back into living in town. I got a place to live.”

“Were you travelling all this time?”

They fell into step with each other, walking among the rows of delicately crafted pieces.

“Work.” Dimitri gazed at the vases on the metal shelf beside them. Tentatively, he touched the body of the one closest to him. “Work kept me away for the longest time.”

“You don’t work anymore?”

“I do. Just not from an office. Well, except the office in my house.” He grinned, a dimple appearing. Ayesha never really fancied herself fascinated with dimples, but she liked them on his face. “I am trying a new direction after working more often than not the past years.”

“Does that include decor shopping?”

“Definitely. Right now, I am looking at things I can use to decorate some rooms in the house. Daniela sells a mesmerising set of utensils that I need to have at my place. Plates, cups, bowls. I came to get a little bit of everything.” They reached a new section, displaying the plates, and he picked a piece to show off to her. “Look at that.”

“I have seen her work. The team here is very good at what they do.”

They moved on from the plates. Ayesha walked beside him, pretending she didn’t take the tour before her first class. It seemed he wasn’t focused on picking anything out at that moment. He spoke about the things he wanted, and when they finished with a particular section, they moved on.

“And you?” Ayesha placed a pen she held down with the others on the wooden table. “Why did you leave your old life to come here.”

“I am sort of a drifter. No, I was. I am trying to be more situated in my life. I am trying to put more effort into integrating myself more in little things here and there.”

“Like what?”

“Getting a job. Taking classes. Paying for an apartment.”

Wonder crossed over his features. “You’ve never had any of those things.”

Ayesha tried to play it off as a normal occurrence in her life. Besides, they were many people who lived that way. “I have, but I have not stayed in place long enough to call it my home or worked anywhere long enough to call it my job.”

Dimitri suddenly felt sorry for her. Not pity in a demeaning manner, but sadness to learn that someone so young was living like she was. The pain that clouded her face for that split second was unmistakable. Even if she tried to hide it, he understood her drifting meant she didn’t have a place to call home. It’s what she wanted Watford to be for her. A home.

“Where do you work now?” He asked.

“I work at a laundry. Sorting, washing, folding, that sort of thing.”

“I don’t know much about laundry work, but if it’s a popular store or a large one, it will be a lot of hard work.”

Ayesha shrugged casually. “I am very used to hard work.”

“In that case, I hope you find a way to make this place feel like home.

Her smile returned. “Me too.”

“Mr Adams?” They both snapped around to catch Daniela’s secretary making her way to them. “Miss Colt will see you now.”

“Until next time.” She waved, intending to leave, and he held her arm before she could move away.

“One second.” He said to the secretary, and she left them alone. “Would you like to have a drink with me sometime?”

“A drink?”

“Yes. I must warn you beforehand that I am not too much into coffee, so I can’t invite you out for that.”

She laughed. “Then yes, I'll like to have a drink with you. I don’t do coffee either.”

“I’ll see you on Saturday at five, then. You don’t have work that day, do you?”

“No. Have a nice day, Dimitri.”

“You as well.”