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As for loving another, I told her I doubted it but I had seen other people lose a beloved spouse and eventually find love again, so couldn't rule it out completely.The trip back was quieter than normal, which I put down to Kate having a hoarse throat from the screaming she'd done on all the big roller-coaster type rides.Monday was back to normal. I did a quick stock take before deciding to glaze three small vases which together with Saturday's work would make it worthwhile doing a firing. I did those in the morning and set them aside to dry. In the afternoon I took my list to Jenny and Sean.Tuesday I spent on my wheel. The feel of moulding the wet clay is by far the most satisfying part of being a potter. As well as being the most tactile job I can think of, the ability to produce somethingof beauty and worth is very gratifying. Mid afternoon I put the glazed ware into the kiln and went into the house a very content man.'York, London or another English city?' I asked Kate that. While she was showering there was a knock on the door. It was Peter. He was still naked but held a baggie of weed and some papers in his hands. I told him Carol was in the shower and would be right out.Carol came into the room still drying herself. She smiled at Peter. Peter said we should all try some of the weed. He rolled a joint and passed it to Carol. She took a hit and passed it to me. I suggested we have a drink. I went to the in-room bar and got some gin, vermouth and ice. While I was making martinis Carol sat on the couch next to Peter. She had her hand on his thigh and was looking directly into his eyes.The joint was very powerful. Soon we were all slightly looped. I turned on the radio playing some reggae music. Carol and Peter danced to the beat, and when a slow song came on she clung to Peter. Carol said, "Dick, can I talk to you?"We went into the bedroom.Carol said, "Can I fuck him?" I said, "As long as I can watch and that you really love me."We went back.
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