‘The bench,’ she panicked, breaking away and scrabbling inside her handbag for the mini-pack of baby wipes she kept.
Jason waited, rolling his eyes, while she wiped down the leather, desperate to free it of any lingering traces of what had passed.
‘Now are you ready?’ he asked, long-sufferingly.
‘Bad manners to leave bodily fluids on other people’s furniture,’ she replied primly.
‘Georgina must have forgotten to mention it,’ said Jason with a sardonic smile. ‘Perhaps you ought to tell her. Next lesson.’
She jabbed him between his shoulder blades as he reached the ladder in front of her.
‘Yeah, I will,’ she said.
She was relieved that Jason entered the main workshop floor first. He would have to deal with whatever was found there.
Lindo was sitting in the rest area, reading the paper.
He folded it up, smiling, as his company revealed itself.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘I’ve poured you each a glass of wine. Got a lovely, cold, crisp white, as it seems to be the weather for it. Or perhaps I should have gone for fizz?’
He looked at Jenna, who realised that he was referring to her fame, making the assumption that she lived a champagne lifestyle. He certainly did recognise her then.
She overrode her little impulse of dismay by making a beeline for the wine and saying, ‘Oh, no, a nice cold white sounds perfect. Thank you.’
‘So then?’ said Lindo, with a delicate throat-clearing sound, once everyone was seated with a glass.
Jenna and Jason exchanged a glance.
‘Do we have a verdict?’
Jason put the paddle down on the table.
‘Class,’ he said.
Jenna looked down at the pale liquid in her glass.
‘Did it perform as you hoped?’
‘Yeah, it did. Just the result I was looking for.’
‘That’s excellent. And . . . were you favourably impressed too?’
Jenna forced herself to meet his smile.
‘It was good,’ she said.
‘The first time with a new implement is always exciting for me,’ said Lindo. ‘And when it’s one I’ve made myself . . . well . . . that’s a thrill beyond describing. To feel your own work turned against you. What a unique feeling.’
‘It must be,’ said Jason.
Jenna was curious now.
‘Does your wife ever tell you what to make?’
Lindo’s eyes took on a dreamy quality.
‘Sometimes,’ he said. ‘Though she never goes into detail. But some mornings she might ask me if I have a lot of work on, and if the answer’s no, she’ll place an order. She might say, “I need a good, thick strap for my collection, one that will make a proper red stripe.” Or the other day she asked for “a thin-handled whip that will leave marks”. I made both, and there have been others.’