Page 59 of Autumn in Sycamore Park
‘Thomas J. Reynolds?’ Regina cried, jumped up out of the chair. ‘Is it really you?’
‘I am … heeeeeee,’ Tom sang. Jennifer, her ears smarting, gave him another nudge.
‘You can probably knock it off now.’
‘Oh my God. I can’t believe it!’
Tom gave a short bow. ‘Since leaving the industry, I would like to thank you as a representative of the town council for my employment in Sycamore Park, and trust that you will continue to keep it as the wonderful place that it is, for the enjoyment of adults and children alike.’
Regina’s eyes narrowed. She glanced from Tom to Jennifer. ‘Is this some attempt at a bribe?’
Tom shook his head. ‘Not much chance of that on a council salary,’ he said, flashing a TV grin that had Regina giggling and Jennifer rolling her eyes. ‘However, if you would be interested, I’d be happy to get you a backstage pass for my latest production at Brentwell Community Theatre. It’s not exactly the Old Vic but it’s fun. And in addition, I’ve got a small part in the panto this year. Do you know who’s starring in that? Phillip Schofield. I could probably introduce you, if you like.’
‘No!’ Regina cried, her hands flying up in the air, making Jennifer wonder if she really did have some kind of witchy spell going on. ‘I mean, yes! I’d love to! Oh, how fantastic!’
‘Would you like me to sign something while I’m here? Or maybe a picture? Perhaps when Phil comes to town, we can get one together. We can probably rustle up a costume for you to wear.’ As Regina, practically hyperventilating, dived into her bag for a camera, Tom glanced at Jennifer. ‘There’s usually a Grotbags one lying around somewhere,’ he muttered under his breath.
‘Good call on Philip Schofield,’ Jennifer whispered.
‘What woman in late middle age doesn’t want to meet him?’ Tom whispered back.
‘Got it!’ Regina said, holding up a camera like a diamond recovered from a swamp. ‘We’ll stand over there, by the door. You, you can take it. What was your name again?’
‘Jennifer,’ Jennifer said.
‘That’s nice. Well, make sure you get us at a good angle.’ She squealed as Tom put an arm around her shoulders.
Jennifer held up the camera. ‘Say tree,’ she said.
26
Picnics and Mosaics
Tom’s requestin return for selling out his acting soul to save Big Gerry was for Jennifer to join him for a picnic on Sunday on the grassy knoll in the centre of Sycamore Park. With unseasonably warm weather due over the weekend, he said it might be their last chance. However, to make it clear that it definitely wasn’t a date, he asked her to invite Angela along. Angela, of course, was delighted.
‘Can I bring a friend?’ she asked.
Jennifer shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Great. Is it a pot luck party?’
‘Uh … I don’t know.’
‘We all have to bring something, right?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Great. I’ll rustle a few things up in the morning, then have one of the part-timers cover a couple of hours over lunchtime.’
Angela, uncharacteristically, didn’t invite Jennifer to stay for dinner on Friday night. She had done her hair, and kept checking in a wall mirror each time she passed.
‘Are you expecting someone?’ Jennifer said.
Angela just chuckled. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’
‘Well, good luck with it. I’ll see you on Sunday.’
Saturday was bright and sunny.Jennifer did a little shopping therapy in the morning before walking Bonky around Sycamore Park in the afternoon. She picked up a coffee from Pete’s stall on the way home, and was surprised to find him whistling to himself behind the counter.
