Page 71 of Autumn in Sycamore Park
‘My, uh, friend, he’s a bit of an actor,’ Jennifer said. ‘I’m sure he could fill in. Karen only had a few lines, didn’t she?’
‘Yeah, but she was the princess. And she has to … you know.’
Jennifer gave a slow nod. She glanced around the crowd, then turned back to Amy, trying to look dramatic. ‘You,’ she said, making a point of sounding grave. ‘I know how dedicated you’ve been to this play. Don’t pretend you haven’t memorised the entire script.’
‘Well, yes, kind of—’
‘Then you’ll have to step up from your role to Karen’s. What were you?’
‘A jester.’
Jennifer nodded. ‘I’ll ask Tom if he can take over your part. And you can take Karen’s.’
‘But what about … what about…?’
Jennifer patted Amy on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. It’ll be all right. Sometimes we have to do what needs to be done, don’t we?’
Amy took a deep breath. ‘We do. I just hope Rick will understand.’
‘I’m sure he will. Do you have a copy of the script I could show Tom?’
‘I’ll hunt one out.’
Jennifer headed over to her stall, where her class management team were hard at work setting everything up. Gavin, holding a clipboard which appeared to be for show as it had nothing clipped to it, was marshalling Paul Lemon in arranging the cakes on the table, while the Jarder twins were slicing them into saleable pieces. Matthew was following them around, sticking price labels in beautiful cursive handwriting on to each plate.
They were nearly done when Gavin held up a plastic box. ‘Good work, guys. Now, one slice of each goes into this box for Matt’s mum, since she can’t be here.’
‘Mate, you don’t have to.’
‘Yeah, we do. Except Paul’s mum’s lemon cake. We want your mum to get well not get worse.’
‘Shut up, it’s not that bad!’
Gavin snorted. ‘All right, perhaps just a thin slice.’
‘You really don’t have to.’
‘Mate, don’t worry, if she can’t eat it all, you get it, don’t you? Plus, it’s a mind trick, isn’t it? That’s what my dad reckons. When people see a bit missing, they’ll think that cake’s popular. Don’t worry, Paul, we can just put a lump of your mum’s cake in the bin, then hopefully we can sell the rest of it.’
‘Ha ha,’ Paul said, rolling his eyes. ‘Is that trick like if you wish Argyle might win, then eventually, in a hundred years or so, they might?’
‘Shut up, Lemons.’
‘Yeah, shut up, Lemons,’ Matthew added. ‘We’ve got Doncaster this afternoon. Five nil, easy.’ He turned to Gavin. ‘Is your dad still going?’
‘Nah. He’s coming here, isn’t he? He reckoned he’s lent his season ticket to some homeless guy or something.’
‘Isn’t the guy suffering enough?’ Paul said with a loud chortle. ‘Might as well steal his blanket while you’re at it.’
Gavin grinned. ‘I think a pigeon just took a dump on your mum’s cake.’
‘That’s a melted chocolate drop.’
‘Whatever.’
‘All going well, is it?’ Jennifer said.
‘Yes, Miss.’
