More than thirty years had elapsed since Emma last wrote for television, so she sought advice from Jack, who’d taken an elective in scriptwriting during his first year at university. Over the course of a single evening, a five-minute draft was completed, mother and son sitting on folding chairs, with the old laptop used for CV meetings balanced on the patio table, all three items relocated for the purpose to the new shed.
There remained the problem of recruiting actors and borrowing video equipment. Jack was loath to ask any of his former uni friends to play the roles of “Recruitment Officer” and “Potential Informer”, which had been Emma’s suggestion. His reluctance to involve anyone from his past was understandable, but although Emma racked her brains, she couldn’t think of an alternativ
