Page 67 of Autumn in Sycamore Park
Judging by the number of discarded attempts scattered across the table, Tom was on the tenth or eleventh attempt to create a handwritten flyer for his forthcoming acting class.
‘The library said I could use a room on the upstairs floor every Thursday night,’ Tom said. ‘I decided it would be free, but each attendee should make an anonymous donation to the upkeep of Sycamore Park.’ He frowned, giving the end of the pencil a little nibble.
‘Uh, don’t do that!’ Jennifer grinned and gave his hand a little tap. ‘You’re like one of my kids.’
‘Sorry … Miss,’ Tom said. ‘Seriously, I’m terrible with words. Can you tell me how to make this compelling? “Acting Class at 6 p.m. in the Library on Thursdays” doesn’t really cut it.’
Jennifer picked up a couple of the drafts. ‘You’ve made some good starts,’ she said. ‘Don’t you have a computer or something, so that you don’t waste so many trees?’
Tom arched an eyebrow. ‘I prefer the personal touch,’ he said. ‘What would you need to read to join up to this class?’
Jennifer couldn’t help but feel a little flutter at the earnestness of his request. She couldn’t recall Mark ever asking for her opinion on anything. Not one single time.
‘Well, you need a hook, and something about yourself to draw people in,’ she said. ‘How about “Pay up for that motor,” Acting Classes, with formerEastEndersstar Tom Reynolds.’
‘I was in three episodes, and I didn’t even have a named part.’
‘They don’t need to know that until they’re in the door. Then you can charm them with your Thespian wit.’
‘But isn’t that a little misleading?’
Jennifer rolled her eyes. ‘How about “formerEastEndersactor” then?’
‘That should work. Do you think it’s fair to ask for donations?’
‘Of course it is. They’re getting an acting class with a professional, aren’t they? And it’s not like you’re asking them to give up their life’s savings. Just a pound or two here and there to help out the park.’
‘The council budget for the next two years is likely to get blown on repairing the courtyard,’ Tom said. ‘I need new fence posts for the western edge of the duck pond, where the riverbank drops off too sharply.’
Jennifer smiled. ‘I’m sure they’d understand.’
Tom frowned. He made to chew his pencil again before pulling it away at the last moment. ‘If someone gives me the words to say, I can bring them to life,’ Tom said, shaking his head. ‘But getting the words … I’m useless.’
Jennifer patted him on the shoulder. ‘You’re doing a great job. Don’t give up. By the way, have you eaten yet?’
Tom looked up. ‘No … not yet. Um, you’re not asking me out, are you?’
Jennifer felt a flush of heat. ‘Uh, I’m asking you outside of this room,’ she said. ‘Unless you have a stash of food hidden away?’
‘One of your kids left their lunchbox behind this afternoon,’ Tom said. ‘But I’m afraid I already passed it to Angela to give to Greg at their cooking class tonight.’ He grinned. ‘I did have a poke around inside, but apart from a half-eaten apple, there wasn’t much to salvage.’
‘So I guess it’s a takeaway then?’
‘At yours? I imagine the cat will be pleased to see me. Have you walked Bonky yet?’
Jennifer grimaced. ‘Not yet. He’ll be going stir-crazy by now.’
‘Well, let’s deal with that and then see what we can find.’
‘Sounds good.’
‘I can finish this tomorrow. Ah, one more thing.’
‘What is it?’
‘I, ah, don’t have a phone. Is there any chance I can put your phone number down?’
‘Am I likely to get bombarded with pseudo-auditions over the phone?’
