Chapter 4

Six months later I had everything in my studio installed and as I liked it. The kiln was top of the range of professional, if not industrial, quality and coped easily with everything I needed it to do. I'd already settled into a routine of heading to the studio immediately after Kate left for school and finishing in time for her return. Kate didn't really need me to be in the house for her in the afternoons but it gave my day structure and besides I enjoyed welcoming my daughter home.

We'd worked out a few rules and had completed most of the decoration. A new kitchen had been installed and the upstairs had been restructured to provide both of us with en-suite bathrooms and a third bathroom for the two other guest bedrooms. Downstairs we had set aside on of the larger rooms solely for Kate's use. It had a couple of desks, both topped with the latest computers, a good Hi-Fi system and a couple of sofas for relaxation. It swiftly became the den for Kate's friends and I saw nearly as much of most of her football team mates as I had done when I was coaching them.

The main rules for her were; no messing about until all homework was completed; not too much noise and no boys. Up until now, only the second rule was occasionally broken, although I knew it would be only a matter of time before she tried to renegotiate the last one.

I'd started off being self indulgent in my choice of what to make especially when it came down to the glazes. Initially the majority turned out okay with just a few either side. As I got used to doing things I'd never needed to do at work the quality gradually increased. While I had enough skill to ensure that the pots always turned out well shaped and formed, it was the mixing of the glaze and learning how to use the new kiln that caused me the most problems.

'There's a craft show on at Trentham in a couple of weeks, ' said Jenny Saunders, my material supplier, as she packed a few more purchases. 'Why don't you take a stand and show off your ware?'

Setting up from scratch, I'd got to know Jenny and her husband Sean quite well over the last few months. We'd talked a lot about what I was trying to achieve and I'd brought in a few show pieces that had been well received.

'That's an idea. I think I have enough pieces available so I just might do that. Thanks.'

'Be interesting to see what reaction you get. Do you want a leaflet about it?'

'Please!'

I'd decided that the Trentham Craft Fayre was as good a place as any to show off my work to the general public. It was small and local, ideal for a first showing. It was held on the first Saturday of every month so if it worked out then I could do it regularly. I just hoped that I'd sell something as it would be embarrassing to bring everything back with me.

Those intervening weeks were busy ones as I tried to build up my stock and add a bit more variety to it. I even worked well into the evenings on a few occasions, not that Kate noticed my absence.

I'd had a word with the organisers about what I would need to make an impression and following their advice I had a good looking stall set up awaiting the opening. There was one more potter at the show and we had a good chat about our varying techniques and wares. Sheila had been doing it for many years and, through choice, had only a very limited range, only one of which overlapped mine. She reckoned to sell about half her stock of fifty pots. She also suggested that I put my prices up as most customers expected to pay for the hand-made ware and most always wanted to haggle a bit. I was more than happy to oblige as this was one aspect where I was at a loss.

I had brought a wide variety totalling about a hundred pieces. For my own records and interest, I had photographed and documented each piece, which would give me a better idea what sold, assuming that something did. I was really surprised at the first couple of hours as I sold eighteen pieces, all at full price, one old couple buying four vases. One thing I hadn't expected was to enjoy myself so much. I loved talking to both customers and browsers alike, especially those with some knowledge. I quickly came to the realisation that I could make a living at this. Admittedly not a very good one, but the income was secondary as the investments suggested by the Lottery experts were already proving more than adequate.

Jenny and Sean called in around lunchtime to see me and Sheila, who I found they also supplied. They examined my pots and talked about the different glazes before buying a couple of pieces, the first that I discounted.

An hour or so later I spotted a shock of red hair at about the same time as the owner spotted me. Michelle Grayson came running over full of her usual exuberance.

'Kate said you'd be here today. How are you? Did you make all these yourself? How do you get this great colour?' She said in an almost continual rush ending when she picked up a dark blue vase about ten inches tall and seven inches in diameter.

'I'm fine and yes I did make all these myself including that one you're holding. All the colours are from the differing glazes I use.'

I wasn't too surprised when a few seconds later a second redhead appeared.

'Now I see why my daughter was happy to join us today, ' said Jane with a grin at her daughter. She returned her gaze to me before continuing, 'I'd heard you were making some pottery, but I assumed it was only a hobby. What you have here seems like a full time job to me.'

'Part time mainly, although it's been hectic the last two weeks since I decided to do this show. How are you?'

'Plodding along as usual, ' she said picking up one of my pieces.

'You're not going to buy any of that overpriced rubbish are you?' I heard a voice say.

I turned and saw a third red haired woman looking at Jane. One look told me it was almost certainly Jane's sister and probably her younger one. Out of respect for my friend I decided to let the insult pass without comment. As usual though, Jane didn't.

'Who says it's rubbish and how do you know it's overpriced when you haven't even looked at any of it?' She asked strongly.

'I say it's rubbish because there's no real design in them, ' she replied as she too picked up a vase, choosing the largest left on the stand. 'Look at it, the shape's alright but the colours are just ... boring. As for being overpriced, all this sort of stuff always is.'

'Shut up Auntie Terry, ' said Michelle, confirming my initial opinion, 'David has made these himself and I think they are brilliant. I bet you couldn't even begin to make anything so nice. I just love the feel of this one, it's so ... what's the word David?'

'Tactile?'

'Yes that's it, tactile.'

'David? You know him then 'Chelle?'

This time her mother answered. 'Yes, he used to be 'Chelle's football coach. He's the one to thank for channelling all her energies into something useful.'

'Oh! I'm sorry, ' said Terry, without even the hint of looking sincere.

With Jane and Michelle rushing to defend me, I didn't feel quite as aggrieved as I might have done otherwise. 'Liar!' I said with a grin, 'I might not agree but you are entitled to your own opinion.'

For the first time my critic smiled at me. It was also the first time I'd really looked at her. She was small, even petite, probably around five foot and looked slim enough to be blown away by any puff of wind. Like her sister and niece, her face was remarkably cute with big green eyes and little button nose and small mouth. I knew from Jane better than to let the latter give any false impressions.

'She doesn't look old enough to be your mother Jane, so I assume this is your older sister, ' I said just about managing to keep a straight face.

Jane erupted into laughter, encouraged by the look of shock on her sister's pretty face. Michelle was grinning too.

Eventually, she managed a reasonable retort. 'Now I know why the colours of your stuff is all over the place ... You're blind.'

'Nice response, but too slow.' I said letting my grin show.

Realising that I had only been joking she relaxed and admitted that I had got my own back on her for criticising my work. We then talked about things in general, with Michelle telling me how well the team were doing, repeating details already told to me by Kate. I didn't mind at all as Michelle and her vim were one of the things that bound the team.