Page 21 of Autumn in Sycamore Park
Amy chuckled. ‘Oh, you know, I had to clear a few things from my busy schedule, but you’ll do that for a mate, won’t you?’
‘Thank you. I just needed some company. The dog and the cat … they’re nice, but I like to talk to someone who can answer back from time to time.’
‘No worries. You said on the phone you had something you wanted—oh, wait a moment. They just refilled the phaal. Blow your head off, that stuff will. Don’t worry, you can have a bite of mine if you’re scared.’
‘I’m—’ Jennifer began, but Amy was already out of her seat, flying low like a reconnaissance plane to slip between two enormous hill-sized people homing in on the most recently refilled curry vats. Jennifer watched with amusement as Amy squeezed in front of them to load her plate with phaal while one of them flapped a frustrated hand in protest, as though to swat away a fly.
‘Look, it’s okay,’ Amy said, as she came and sat back down. ‘I’m fine with it. I mean, I’m not one hundred percent fine, but I can live with it, if it’s what you want.’
Jennifer frowned. ‘If what’s what I want?’
Amy stuffed a lump of pork into her mouth then leaned forward. ‘Rick,’ she said in a muffled voice. ‘If you want to make a move on him, I’m cool. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?’
Jennifer winced. ‘The only move I’d like to make on Rick is further away. At least a couple of desks, preferably another room entirely.’
Amy frowned. ‘You mean … you’re not … you’re not interested in him?’
Jennifer laughed. ‘Oh, I’m interested in him, all right. I’m interested in what rubbish comes out of his mouth next. It’s very entertaining. But if you mean interested in going out with him … no chance. He’s really not my type.’
‘But he’s gorgeous.’
‘I admit he’s easier on the eye than say, Father Ted or Old Don, but he has the personality of a turnip.’
Amy looked crestfallen. ‘He’s just a little nervous around you, that’s all. It’s because you’re kind of….’
‘Kind of…?’
Amy stuffed another lump of chicken into her mouth, then immediately coughed. ‘Hot. Hot! Hot hot hot!’
‘I hope you’re not talking about me,’ Jennifer said, handing Amy a glass of water.
Amy erupted into a fit of coughing while she intermittently forced the water down. Jennifer was mildly impressed how little of it spilled on the floor, which was conveniently patterned in reds and oranges in case of just such an event.
Amy, surviving the spice overload, flapped a hand in front of her face and shook her head. ‘No, I meant … while I wouldn’t say you were hot … I mean, if I played for the other team I might think you were, but … you’re just kind of mildly gorgeous. For a teacher, I mean. It’s kind of a standard issue that teachers have to be dogs, isn’t it?’
‘Do they? I don’t remember seeing that on the application.’ Jennifer smiled. ‘“Must be a dog”.’
‘It’s in the small print,’ Amy insisted. ‘The very small print. The small print that’s between the lines that you can’t actually read. You have to be a dog otherwise the kids will get the horn and it’ll cause problems.’
Jennifer, starting to wish she’d stayed home after all, winced. ‘Uh, this is a primary school? Most of them are several years off puberty yet.’ She grinned. ‘So, what you’re saying is that I’m not a dog.’
Amy gave a frustrated sigh. ‘This is so much easier with beer. I’m saying that when the options are Maud on reception or Vicky the school councillor who has that gippy eye, or well, me, it’s obvious that Rick’s going to be aiming for you like one of Shop’s arrows.’
‘Um, Shop? Who’s Shop?’
Amy shook her head. ‘Do I have to explain everything? Shop. You know, Downton Abbey? Friar Tuck? Tuck Shop?’
‘Ah … I get it.’
‘That’s one of mine. Do you think Rick will be impressed?’
Jennifer shrugged and gave Amy what she hoped was a supportive smile. ‘He might.’
Amy grinned, then stuffed an enormous piece of naan bread into her mouth, as though afraid the family loading food on to their plates nearby might mistake Amy and Jennifer’s table as part of the buffet.
‘So,’ she mumbled through a mouthful of bread, ‘Didn’t you say you wanted to talk to me about something?’
Jennifer smiled. ‘Oh, it was nothing. Just about the teachers’ play, that’s all.’
