by BarnaWilde
*****
She stood in one corner of the room, half perched on the workbench which ran along one wall. In her hand she clutched the folded white note she had been given a half hour previously. For the moment her pupils were occupied, and she dared to glance again at the message she was holding.
She looked across the room to the man sitting almost diagonally opposite. He was filing carefully at a small piece of silver. He was balding, grey at the temples, probably somewhere between forty and fifty. Not a handsome man, but not ugly. Quite a small man. Slim. Small feet she noticed. Strange how she always noticed people's feet.
She tried to remember what he was making, but couldn't. He had thrown her somewhat when he passed her the note earlier. He made interesting things though, she thought. He was no artist, nor yet a craftsman, but his work was competent and different. Quirky even. Yes, there was usually a joke or a touch of humour somewhere in what he made.
He brought her little presents too. Nothing grand. He gave her a red nose on comic relief day. A chocolate cream egg just before Easter. Just little things like that. He even brought her an apple one week. Another of his little jokes.
He had joined her class at Xmas, along with half a dozen others. He was the only man. She liked to have men in her class, but they were infrequent visitors. At first she scarcely noticed him. He got quietly on with his work and needed little help from her, but after a few weeks he took to staying back and helping her tidy the workroom after the other students had left, and he was usually one of the first to arrive. But that was all. Apart from the little presents and a certain wistfulness when he finally left for his home. The note had come as a surprise.
She didn't even know why she was giving it a second thought. After all, he was old enough to be her father and she already had a stable relationship with Brian.
Brian and she had been together now for almost four years. She presumed that they would marry one day. In fact they behaved like a married couple already. Too much so sometimes, she thought. There were times when Brian certainly seemed to have got the better half of the deal. He surely didn't volunteer for his share of the housework quite so quickly as he had when he had first moved in.
But she did love him, she told herself. It was silly to get worked up over little things like Brian never cleaning the bath or leaving the loo seat up. She wished they hadn't argued this morning.
And the sex was good. Maybe not as wild as it was, but that happened to everyone didn't it?
So why was she even giving a thought to the invitation in her hand?
The man looked up and saw her watching him. He smiled at her across the room.
She smiled back, and reread his note. It was simple enough. Just an invitation to the pub for a drink after the class. Perhaps she should go. Just for a few minutes. Just to be sociable. After all, a quick drink didn't mean anything, did it?
