Page 39 of Autumn in Sycamore Park
Jennifer shrugged. ‘Maybe it has a party room?’
‘Perhaps we could invite Tom to chaperone both of us,’ Angela said. ‘Although I’d hate to be a gooseberry.’
‘Let’s just make it a girls’ night,’ Jennifer said.
Angela clapped her hands together. ‘Fantastic. We’ll get really drunk and discuss your love life. Another glass of wine?’
James was sleepingon her pillow with Bonky positioned midway along the bed when Jennifer got home, as though to suggest that she was neglecting them somewhat. She took Bonky for a quick walk down to the corner of Sycamore Place, although it was too dark to venture into the park. Bonky seemed content to inspect the line of bushes along the roadside, but Jennifer looked up at the park’s entrance, illuminated by streetlights, with a sense of longing. Only now as she thought about it, did she realise how the patch of trees, paths, ponds, and rock features had become so central to the rebooted edition of her life, like a central cog around which she could begin to revolve. For the first time in several days she had thought more about what she had gained than what she had left behind.
And it felt good.
Bonky wandered on a few steps, tugging on his lead. Jennifer followed, staring absently at a leaflet taped to a nearby bus shelter while the dog nosed in the bushes nearby.
Proposal for Change of Land Use:
Sycamore Park Northwest Corner
Meeting open to the public
Saturday 2ndOctober
Brentwell Town Hall – North Building 2ndFloor Rm 12
Hosted by Councillor Regina Clover
Below the heading were a few paragraphs outlining the proposal. The entire northwest corner, encompassing Big Gerry and his surrounds, was considered an ideal location for a new water treatment plant to reduce the load on the current treatment plant to the north of the city.
Jennifer stared. A sewage works. Right on the edge of Sycamore Park. The view from Angela’s café would be devastated, the beautiful trees replaced by barbed wire fences, tanker lorries, and KEEP OUT signs, the gentle breeze through the tree branches replaced by the hum of generators and the tinkle of sprinkler systems.
Regina Clover, she of the beautiful name but blackened heart, was the host. Jennifer pulled out her phone and took a photo of the notice. She would be there, and she hoped other local residents from the park’s vicinity would be too.
This could not be allowed to happen. No sooner had Jennifer found a sense of peace, then it was about to be derailed.
‘Come on, Bonky,’ Jennifer said, tugging his lead as a chill wind rushed down Sycamore Place as though to remind Jennifer of the impending doom, ‘We have work to do.’
18
Traffic Lights
‘Miss,we’ve got three mums making cheesecake,’ Gavin said, frowning as he held out his scribbled handwritten list. ‘We can’t have three cheesecakes.’
Jennifer put down the pen she was using to mark that morning’s maths test and looked up at Gavin.
‘What do you think we should do?’
Gavin’s jaw hardened. ‘If I thump Steve Thomas maybe he’ll tell his mum to make fruitcake instead.’
Jennifer winced. ‘I don’t think that will help.’
‘It was a joke, Miss.’
‘Well, what else can we do?’
Gavin’s lower lip trembled. The last thing Jennifer wanted to do was make the boy cry, but if she was ever going to instil confidence into him, she had to encourage him to solve problems for himself.
‘I don’t know, Miss.’
‘What kind of cheesecake do you like, Gavin?’
