‘I didn’t expect a personal delivery service, but thanks. ‘She takes them from him. ‘Come inside, the kettle’s hot.’

She leads him not into the kitchen, but to the studio, where the wood burner is still going from the night before, a cast-iron kettle singing softly on top of it. What daylight exists is backed up by a storm lantern. Tilda is aware how odd it must look. Thistle stands up when they enter the room but does not come to greet Dylan.

‘She’s still a bit shy,’ she tells him. ‘Even without her pink collar.’

‘This place is great,’ he says as he wanders around, taking in her half-made pots, piles of sketch books, pots of glazes and general potter’s paraphernalia. If the lack of lighting strikes him as strange, he does not mention it. ‘You’ve been busy, by the look of it.’

‘Things are stacking up. I’ve gone as far as I can go without a kiln. I’m really pleased to see these books.’

Dylan is now standing in front of what is obviously the large, modern, electric kiln. He looks at it, and then at Tilda. ‘This one not working then?’

She hesitates, turning away from him to add milk to his drink. ‘I want to try something different. Something … older. More in keeping with where the pots have been made, and what inspired them.’

‘Cool.’ He nods, easily accepting her explanation.

She hands him the mug, letting him help himself to the somewhat damp sugar from the bowl. He seems very at ease, and she envies him his ability to relax with someone he scarcely knows, in a place he has never been before, with a less-than-friendly dog watching his every move. She takes the biscuit tin from the workbench and offers one to Thistle in the hope she might thaw a little, but she won’t even take it. Dylan takes two, munching as he talks.

‘So, what’s the plan? Are you going to build the thing in here?’

‘Oh, no. It has to be outside. I think I’m going to use bricks. I’d like to seal it with mud, but the weather’s not exactly conducive to trying to dig at the moment, so I may have to use mortar.’ She unwraps the books and flicks through the first one until she finds an illustration to show him. ‘Here, see? It’s a simple system, but you can get fantastic results if you manage the temperature carefully.’

‘Can’t be easy. I mean, you light a fire under the thing and it burns. Hardly comes with a dial, does it?’

‘It’s all about controlling the airflow and letting the kiln cool down slowly, which can take days.’

‘Days!’ He laughs. ‘We’re going to need more biscuits.’

‘We?’