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“Did you make it?” Ellie asked, the crying dialling down a notch.
“Yes.” He looked at the shelves beside them. “I made everything here.”
“How?” Ellie asked through a shuddering hiccup.
“In my workshop.” He tipped his head in that direction. “I can show you, if you want. But you’ll have to stop crying. There’s no crying allowed in the workshop.”
“Okay.” Her chest heaved as she dragged in a deep breath. Beth took out a tissue and wiped away the line of snot beneath Ellie’s nose.
“Come on then,” Lowen said, straightening up and offering Ellie his hand. She walked with him into the back room and Trystan exchanged a look with Beth before following them. They hovered in the archway while Lowen showed Ellie around the messy workshop. Beth hung back with Trystan, only speaking to tell Ellie to be careful a couple of times.
Ignoring Beth’s obvious tension, Ellie asked Lowen a string of questions which he patiently answered.
“If you give me those …” Lowen reached out to take the broken pieces of the cup from Beth. “I can make another one like it, with a puffin on it.”
“You can make it for me again?” Ellie asked.
“Yes.”
“Can I help you?”
He looked at his pottery wheel and shrugged. “I guess so … If you’re not in a hurry?” he said, directing the question at Beth.
“We’re not in a hurry,” she replied. “But don’t feel you have to …”
“It’s fine.” He patted the stool by the wheel for Ellie, then pulled up another and sat beside her. “Is it okay if you get a bit messy?” he asked her.
“Yes. I like getting messy. It’s okay, isn’t it, Mummy?”
“It’s fine,” she said, smiling at Lowen. “Thank you.”
“No problem. You can put the kettle on if you want …” The remark seemed to be aimed at Trystan, but it was hard to tell since he didn’t look at him. He moved to the sink in the corner and filled the kettle.
“That was nice of him,” Beth whispered, creeping up beside him.
“Yes.” He looked over at Lowen and Ellie who were focused on the lump of clay in the centre of the wheel. Lowen directed Ellie to press the foot pedal and her face lit up as the wheel began to rotate.
The atmosphere in the workshop was unusually relaxed thanks to Ellie’s giggles, which filled the room for the next twenty minutes. Beth peppered Lowen with questions about his business and how he’d come to make pottery for a living. Conversation flowed easily, not that it would have mattered if it hadn’t since they were all mesmerised by Ellie’s enthusiasm over the pottery wheel.
“I think that looks like a great mug,” Lowen finally said of Ellie’s third attempt, which had come about with a lot of help.
“It doesn’t have a handle,” Ellie said. “And it doesn’t have the birds and the colours.”
“I’ll have to let it dry a little. I can put the handle on later and paint it. It needs to go in the big oven too and that takes a while.”
“How long?”
“A few days.” He looked to Beth. “How long are you on holiday for?”
“A few more weeks, I think.”
Trystan didn’t like the uncertainty in her voice and reminded himself that he’d just come out of a long-term relationship and this was only destined to be a short-term thing.
“I can get it to you before you leave,” Lowen told them.
“Thank you.” Beth directed Ellie to wash her hands at the sink in the corner but hovered around the wheel herself. “I was wondering …”
“You want a turn?” Lowen asked, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips.
