Dan was outside the hall when Ruby arrived, talking to Bev as if he'd been there all morning.
He lifted a hand. Ruby stopped so suddenly her bag swung against her leg.
‘Mae said you'd be here,’ he said.
‘She didn't say you would.’
Bev looked between them. ‘I've got to sort the store cupboard. Ruby, the table's inside. You can test the layout.’
She went in. Dan stayed beside the door, giving Ruby room to pass.
He was wearing the dark blue jacket she'd bought him for his birthday. The collar sat badly folded. She wanted to straighten it and disliked herself for noticing.
‘How are you?’ he asked.
‘Why are you here?’
He nodded towards the hall. ‘I'm supplying refreshments. Bev asked a while ago. Mae mentioned you needed some display things.’
Ruby looked through the glass. A folding table stood in the middle of the floor. There was nothing on it yet.
‘What did Mae ask you?’
‘Whether I still had the risers we used for the Christmas window. I do. You can borrow them.’
She remembered them: two wide folding platforms, strong enough to hold all the bowls she could lift onto them. Dan had bought them when she'd started teaching at the bakery, then used them for his window displays. They were his, not something she'd left behind.
‘I haven't asked you for help.’
‘I know. I'm offering.’
He said it without the heavy sadness she'd dreaded. Dan had always been good at walking into a room and finding something useful to do. It was part of what she'd loved. Even now, as she stood deciding whether to walk away, he spotted that her bag was starting to slide and held out a hand for it.
She kept hold of it.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Can I show you the picture?’
He brought up a photograph of the risers in the bakery store room. Beyond them she could see a corner of the long wooden counter, the one she'd helped sand, and a stack of the trays he still used every day.
She looked at the risers. Only the risers.
‘They'd suit that stuff you've been making,’ he said. ‘The pale blue. You never liked cloth bunching up round the work. I've got the fitted cover for a six-foot table as well. Plain grey.’
He knew those things himself. She'd spent years telling him why she couldn't put orange paper behind the pottery, why a nice object looked worse on a crowded shelf. Hearing him remember was unexpectedly pleasant.
‘Mae knows someone who can photograph the stall too,’ he said. ‘Make a little occasion of it. Proper launch.’
‘Did she say I wanted that?’
‘She said you wanted it to go well.’
‘I do.’
‘Then let it.’
The sentence irritated her. It also made her imagine the stock sitting well, people stopping to look, the day starting without her having to apologise for a tray on top of three books.
They went inside. Dan put his phone beside the empty table while Ruby laid out six pieces. He moved round to look from the customer's side. He used to do that at the bakery, pretending to be somebody with no idea what she'd made.
‘That one would catch me,’ he said, pointing to the green jug.
Ruby put it nearer the edge.
Her phone vibrated. A message had come through the old workshop account, which she still used for enquiries. One of her former students, the woman who wore a yellow raincoat even on fine days, asked whether there would be another beginners' class. She wanted to book herself and a friend.
Ruby read it twice. A real request, from someone who had made a lopsided jug and been delighted with it.
‘Good news?’ Dan asked.
‘Someone's asking about a class.’
‘Back room's still there.’
She looked up. ‘I know.’
‘I'm only saying.’
Ruby sent an answer saying she was planning a class after the market and would send details when she had a date and venue. She didn't promise the bakery. The woman replied with a cheerful thumbs-up.
Dan watched her set down the phone.
‘People liked those nights,’ he said. ‘I did.’
‘So did I.’
He smiled, a little uncertainly now. Ruby moved a dish half an inch sideways. It was easier than looking at him.
He didn't mention the kiss. She was glad and then angry that she was glad. He had admitted it, and she'd asked what he thought would have happened if the colleague hadn't stepped away. His inability to answer had stayed with her longer than his apology.
Bev came out of the cupboard carrying a coil of extension cable.
‘Dan, I need to know whether you're bringing the ordinary trays or those huge wooden things. They won't fit.’
Dan turned at once. ‘Ordinary trays. I'll do the labels.’
He looked back at Ruby. ‘Think about the risers. They're sitting there doing nothing.’
When he left, the hall seemed larger. Ruby stood behind her six pieces and pictured the platforms under the back row. She could be sensible about accepting a loan. She could also be sensible about refusing one.
She took a photograph of the table, sent it to Mae and wrote, You could have told me he'd be here.
Mae replied, You're right. Sorry. I thought talking about the stand would be easier than a big Dan conversation.
Ruby typed that it hadn't been easy. She looked at the empty space behind the bowls and added, The things he has would work, though.