was frowning deeply now as he shoved the receipt into his pocket. ‘Sorry, it’s not a course. Look, I’d better go or I’ll be late.’
‘Oh, of course, yes. Enjoy yourself,’ said Beth, feeling like a total idiot. Was he shaking his head as he went up the stairs? She wouldn’t have blamed him. She sloped back into the break area, got herself a tea from the machine and went to read the noticeboard. There was a brochure of all the courses and she sprang on it, took it to a nearby table and started to look through it. Each course also had details of the room and floor it was on. The men from her course got up and left. She checked her watch: time to go back. A woman was wiping down the tables and Beth sidled back in.
‘Excuse me. Do you know which groups are meeting on the first floor tonight?’ It was a long shot.
‘Er, Tuesday, is it?’ said the woman and Beth nodded. ‘Knit and natter – actually no, that’s moved to a Thursday. Adult dyslexia support and domestic violence support,’ she said and then carried on wiping.
Beth knew she was frowning. Either Jack was dyslexic or there was something very sinister going on that he was attending a domestic violence support group. Beth wandered back to her class and sat at her bench and tried hard to listen to Tollek but her mind was distracted by what she’d just discovered and the uneasy feeling that was breeding in her gut.
After a lengthy discussion about tools and sharpening and a quick refresh of the health and safety they all moved over to the machine side of the room. Tollek ran them through the basic principles of the lathe, put on a safety mask and did a demonstration. Beth forgot about Jack for a while, watching Tollek intently as he rounded off a piece of wood. The machine had a low purr as Tollek expertly ran the chisel across its surface. Wood shavings curled away from the wood and filled the air with a fresh scent. She watched him cut in to make a specific groove and demonstrate the importance of keeping tools sharp. She was fascinated.
When the students had a go themselves Beth had to stop herself from running to a lathe in her excitement. Tollek came to each of them in turn and checked that their piece of wood was secure and got them started. Beth knew she was grinning as she rested her chisel on the tool rest and felt it make contact with the wood and change the tone of the machine’s purr.
‘Stay firm and smooth with your actions,’ said Tollek. ‘Good start, Beth.’
As she worked the wood her mind drifted back to Jack. Her curiosity was piqued and she wanted to find out more. He was either attending the dyslexic group or the domestic violence support group; she really hoped it was the former even though she hadn’t spotted any signs that had led her to think he might be dyslexic. But just because she hadn’t noticed anything that didn’t mean he wasn’t. Yes, it had to be that. Her foot slipped off the motor pedal and the lathe ground to a halt. She’d lost concentration.
Tollek was soon at her side and got her started again and this time she stared hard at the wood to maintain focus. A few seconds later her mind had wandered off again. If it was the domestic violence group why was he there? Was he scouting for his next victim? She felt a shudder go through her and immediately banished the thought. Surely nobody would be that twisted and surely not Jack, although she knew too well that just because someone was pretty did not mean they were good. Perhaps the support group was for reformed abusers? she thought. But if it was, that was an odd thing to need support for, wasn’t it?
Tollek suggested that they stop working and inspect their handiwork. She was so pleased she almost gave herself a clap. Despite her wandering thoughts she had actually made something that looked pretty good.
When it was time to leave she had visions of replacing every spindle and setting up her own wood-turning business. Everyone was buoyed by the experience and now they were all chatting, the gender barriers had been removed – they were one happy band of novice wood-turners.
As Beth waved her goodbyes she headed for the motorbike parking area and there she spotted Jack. He was on the phone and looking over the pink moped. What was he up to now?
Beth gripped the helmet tightly, pulled back her shoulders and strode over to Jack.
‘Problem?’ she asked.
‘Ah, ignore this message, Petra, Beth has turned up and I think that solves the puzzle. Bye.’ He ended the call and looked apologetically at Beth. ‘Sorry, I recognized the moped and thought someone had stolen it, because I knew Petra was working. But I’m guessing you’ve borrowed it.’
‘Well, I haven’t stolen it if that’s what you’re thinking!’
Jack’s expression was pained. ‘I didn’t think you had.’ He slapped a smile on his face. ‘So are you doing an evening class?’
‘Yes, wood-turning.’ She watched him closely for a reaction.
‘Wow, that’s a real skill.’
‘How about you?’
He looked at the ground. ‘Just a meeting, nothing as much fun as wood-turning. Anyway I’d better get back.’
Beth took a deep breath as he was about to walk away. ‘So are you dyslexic?’
There was a pause as Jack slowly spun back to look at her, his face crumpled in thought. ‘Er, no, why?’
‘In that case it means you must have been at the domestic violence support group.’ Beth stepped forward; she wasn’t sure why but she felt like she was going head to head with him. His facial expression changed rapidly in a few short moments.
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