‘You can disagree with the picture,’ Jonah said. ‘You can't disagree with the ruler.’
Ruby put the ruler down. ‘Watch me.’
He stood on the other side of the bench, holding a piece of cream mountboard. The picture between them showed a horse with five legs. Ruby had counted twice.
‘Perhaps that's the tail,’ she said.
‘Perhaps.’
‘You don't sound convinced.’
‘I'm here to give it a dignified home.’
She leaned forward, tipping her head to one side. It had taken ten minutes for being here to stop feeling like something she'd requested and he had reluctantly permitted. He'd opened the door at six, shown her where to put her coat and asked her to wash her hands. Then he'd put her to work.
She was grateful for the work. Looking at a crooked horse was easier than looking at him while they tried to find the ease of their first walk.
‘This one,’ she said, choosing a muted green corner from the samples. ‘It makes the grass look less ill.’
Jonah held it against the print, considered it, then moved it to the other side.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You're right.’
‘I'd like that recorded.’
‘I'm putting a price on it.’
She smiled. He smiled too, and something in her loosened.
He showed her how to measure the print, then how much board to leave on each side. Ruby could cut a circle out of wet clay without thinking about it. The little arithmetic sum held her up for a full minute.
‘I can make a dish,’ she said. ‘I'm not qualified to make a hole.’
‘Different training.’
He came round the bench to show her. Standing beside him, she found it hard to concentrate on the numbers. There was a small scrape near his wrist. His shirt smelt faintly of clean washing beneath the timber smell of the room.
He stepped back before she had to ask. She wrote the measurements down.
‘Now draw it.’
That part was easy. She marked the corners, pulled a pencil line down the board and showed him.
Jonah looked closely. ‘Good.’
‘You sound surprised.’
‘Your previous campaign against the ruler concerned me.’
He demonstrated the cutter on a spare strip, hands steady. When she took her turn, the blade snagged halfway down. She pressed harder.
‘Stop,’ he said.
She stopped. ‘I can get it through.’
‘You'll tear it.’
‘It's nearly done.’
He tapped the pencil mark. ‘Take it back to there.’
She wanted to finish it. She wanted to be good at the thing he was good at, without having to become a beginner beside him. Instead she drew the blade back and tried again slowly.
The piece came out with a clean edge. She lifted it, pleased.
‘There,’ Jonah said.
‘Thank you for not grabbing it.’
‘I wanted to.’
She laughed. It was better than being told she had nothing to be embarrassed about.
They fitted the mount round the horse. With its new green border, the fifth leg looked even more determined.
‘It could win races,’ Ruby said.
‘There'd be complaints.’
He let her choose between two pieces of wood, then explained why her choice would pull the colours in the wrong direction. She argued. He made her hold both against it. Annoyingly, she could see what he meant.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘But I was right about the green.’
‘You were.’
He cut the frame lengths while she watched from a safe distance. The saw was loud; she liked the certainty of it, the short burst and then the sudden quiet. He worked with his whole attention. Once he glanced up to check she was all right, and she caught herself smiling at him.
He smiled back before turning to the next cut.
It wasn't a date that required her to be charming every minute. She could stand there and like him. He could make something he needed to finish anyway. She hadn't known how much she'd enjoy that.
When the lengths were ready, he let her help bring the corners together. Her thumbs knew what to do with the small joins. Jonah looked at her hands, then at the frame.
‘You really are good at that.’
‘I told you. Dishes.’
They stood back to inspect their work. The frame hadn't transformed the horse. It had made the picture something a person might willingly put on a wall.
Ruby was considering whether to say that when Jonah leaned over and turned the workshop light off above the bench. In the quieter light from the window he looked less like a man working and more like the man who'd stood with her outside the second-hand shop.
‘Walk you home?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
She got her coat but didn't put it on. He waited beside the door. She went towards him and stopped close enough that the coat brushed his leg.
‘I'd like you to kiss me first,’ she said.
His expression changed. Not surprise exactly. Something warmer, and more serious.
‘Here?’
She nodded.
He put one hand against her cheek. His thumb moved just once, then he kissed her. Ruby caught the front of his shirt before she meant to. He drew her a little closer.
She had thought she'd compare him with Dan. She had thought there might be a moment of guilt or strange sadness. There was only his mouth, his warm hand, and her own pleasure at getting closer still.
When he pulled back, she kept hold of his shirt.
‘All right?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
He looked down at her hand. ‘Can I have that back?’
‘In a minute.’
He kissed her again. She shut her eyes and stopped keeping count of anything.
Outside, the evening had cooled. They took the long way to her flat, without trying the locked gate. At her door Ruby put her arms round him herself.
Afterwards, on the stairs, she touched her mouth and caught herself doing it. She took her hand away, laughing under her breath, and went up to let herself in.