Page 57 of Autumn in Sycamore Park
‘Eric, can we have a look at the cheeses, too?’ came the woman’s voice, as Rick Fellow, crutchless, stumping along on his cast, appeared, pushing an older woman in a wheelchair. From the shape of her face and even the curls in her hair, this was clearly his mother.
Jennifer stared as they passed, not seeing her.
‘Eric,’ the woman said as Rick gave a gentle sigh, reaching back to pat him on the arm. ‘Eric, just pause by the camembert a second so I can see if any is on sale.’
‘It gives me wind, Mum.’
‘I know, dear, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it? It means there’s nothing stuck.’
25
Star Turn
‘He’s had a haircut,’Amy whispered, leaning close to Jennifer, still absently sharpening a pencil crayon. ‘Why do you think that is?’
Greg Downton, hair freshly cut and gleaming with a hint of replenished colour, stood up. ‘Okay, everyone, thanks for staying awake. This is our last meeting of the week. We have just one week left until the harvest festival. Please make sure you’ve got everything ready for your class. We don’t have much time left. We’ll be setting up the stalls next Thursday night, so keep your evening clear. Any questions?’
Amy shot up a hand.
‘Don’t ask him,’ Jennifer hissed.
‘Uh, Mr. Downton … could I just ask—’ She shot a grin at Jennifer, ‘—whether another letter will go out to parents to confirm the details?’
‘Yes, Ms. Clairmont. It will. Of course it will.’
‘Thanks.’
The staffroom’s rear door opened and Rick came in, a bag slung over his shoulder, but the cast gone. He winced as he made an exaggerated limp towards his desk, then sat down with a sigh and a grimace.
‘Good of you to join us, Mr. Fellow,’ Downton said.
‘I had an early appointment at the doctor,’ Rick said. ‘He said it might have been a few days too early to remove the cast, but I’m a tough one.’ He lifted a hand and made a fist. Amy giggled. Old Don rolled his eyes and muttered ‘pillock,’ just a little too loud.
‘Well, that’s good to know,’ Downton said. ‘Right, everyone, have a good day.’
‘You girls miss me this morning?’ Rick asked, leaning forward. ‘Looks like you were crying. Your makeup’s running.’
Amy immediately pulled open her top drawer and took out a little vanity mirror. Jennifer just smiled. ‘Must be nice to be off the crutches,’ she said as Rick opened his bag and took out a lunchbox which he put into his middle desk drawer.
‘What’s for lunch today? Ham or camembert?’
Before Rick could reply, Jennifer scooped up a pile of maths books and hurried off to class.
‘Miss, can I have a word?’
‘Sure, Gavin. What is it?’
Just in case his mouth ran away from him, Jennifer took Gavin out into the corridor, leaving the other children watching a DVD on the Roman Empire.
‘Miss, can I show you something? It’s in my bag.’
‘Sure, go and get it.’
Gavin ran off to the cloakroom, then came back a minute later carrying his schoolbag. He opened it and pulled out a large piece of folded card, slightly crumpled.
‘I made this,’ he said, holding it out to her.
Jennifer stared. Crudely illustrated in Gavin’s distinctive barely legible style, it was a picture of a woman—presumably—sitting in a chair with her arms raised, while around her, smaller figures—presumably children—also had their arms raised. Above the group, circles of colour with trailing lines that sometimes touched represented balloons. Along the top Gavin had writtenMat’s Mum, and on the bottom,Get Well Soon.
