by Jules Wake
When I’d started this, I’d had no idea so much would be involved but now, as I gazed around my overcrowded kitchen, I still would have done it. My life was so much better for it, despite the long hours we were now putting in.
There were a few polite claps from everyone. Over the last three weeks, a parkrun sub group had sort of formed itself as everyone stepped up to help arrange the final details. It consisted of me, Ash, Hilda, Penny, Janie, Charles, Elaine, and Marsha. This was our fourth meeting and the designated day was looming fast. We’d agreed to have a trial run on the following Saturday with all of our volunteers and twenty members of the Harriers so we could test the route and iron out any problems that arose. What they might be, my brain was too discombobulated to think about. Thank goodness for Ash who, in the last few days before he started his new job, had been considering all the probable catastrophes that could strike.
‘So, Neil, we’re thinking of having four marshals on the route positioned at approximately each kilometre, but obviously where they’re placed will depend on terrain and emergency access if there is an accident.’ Ash peeled back the front sheet of the flip chart to reveal an enlarged map of the proposed area. I grinned at the sight of it – another team effort, and so what if it might be dotted with a few crumbs of Hilda’s chocolate cake. The route itself was marked in thick, dark red marker pen and I could picture Poppy, her tongue between her lips, meticulously colouring in the line. Keen to join in, Ava had drawn a few scrubby trees to illustrate Beacon Knoll and with considerable and unexpected skill, Hilda, having delegated flapjack making to me, had abandoned her apron and inked, in painstaking detail, some of the landmarks in the park. The route map was now beautifully embellished with the bandstand, the folly in the woods, and with somewhat of a flourish, the finish line, which was decorated with colourful bunting. ‘We would suggest one here, one here, another one there and one here.’
Neil stood up and peered at the map. ‘If you have one here, you’re closer to the road, so if you needed emergency vehicle access, they could drive right into the park at this point. It would make sense to put one of your marshals here. I can let a responsible person have the key for that gate.’
‘That would be the run director on the day.’
‘And how would you alert anyone if there was an accident?’
Ash explained the protocols he’d worked out that involved walkie-talkies for each marshal and a designated parkrun mobile that the run director carried each week. I watched as he spoke, almost bursting with pride at his easy confidence. Since starting the new job earlier that week he seemed to have blossomed and he wasn’t the same man I’d first met or the man that Hilda had met. He’d grown into something so much more, and in that moment I knew that what I felt for him was much deeper and richer than anything I’d felt for anyone before and, while the smooth, enveloping sensation didn’t have that fast, fizzy burst of emotion that had exploded when I first realised I was in love with him, this warmed my soul from the inside out. As he came to the end of his piece he looked up, straight at me, and smiled, his mouth slightly crooked, those beautiful eyes full of warmth. It was a private exchange in a room full of people and it hit me straight in the heart.
Forcing my attention back on the room, I checked the next point on the agenda. Briefing Packs. As the meeting progressed, Elaine and Marsha scribbled frantic notes as they’d both volunteered to put the marshal briefing packs together. What a find they’d been. Talk about invaluable. During the day, when the rest of us were at work, they typed up minutes and action plans, circulating them daily for everyone’s approval. Elaine was a demon with a laminator and had proved, despite my first impressions, to be a very good neighbour. She was also a big favourite with Ava. They hung out over the garden fence and Elaine appeared to be genuinely interested in the names and doings of Ava’s soft-toy collection.
Hilda stood up as the meeting reached half-time.
‘Tea? Coffee? And I’ve made a nice lemon cake.’
Janie groaned. ‘Oh, I love your cake, Hilda. I need the recipe. I also need the parkrun to start so I can run off all the extra calories I’ve put on.’
‘No one’s forcing you to eat it,’ teased Penny from her right, rising to her feet. ‘Let me give you a hand, Hilda.’
I was already pulling mugs out of the cupboard as Hilda put the kettle on and Penny took everyone’s orders.
‘The cake is on the side there,’ directed Hilda. ‘Baked today and it’s decorated with smarties.’
‘Ava?’ I asked.
Hilda grinned. ‘Well, why not?’
‘Thank you.’ Hilda was now picking the girls up from school three nights a week, for which I was extremely grateful. It made family life so much easier, especially as Poppy much preferred this solution. She’d been a lot less moody and withdrawn for the last two weeks and we’d got into a new and much happier routine. Hilda collected the girls from school on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and by the time I came home from work, dinner was under way. Ash invariably came round after work with Bill, and Poppy, designating herself chief dog walker, got her puppy fix by taking him for a walk in the park while Ash and I went out for a run. After that we would all sit down together for dinner like one big, happy family.
Hilda had also got into the habit of staying overnight, which meant that Ash and I got some much-appreciated time together taking Bill for a last pre-bedtime walk. It was fair to say that our frustration levels were rising and my new sofa had seen some serious necking.
‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Hilda.’
‘Well it’s quite mutual, dear. I can’t remember when I last enjoyed myself so much.’ She lifted the lid from the cake tin to reveal a rather lurid cake. The colours from the smarties had bled into the white, lemon-flavoured icing. Glancing down at it she chuckled. ‘Ava’s such a card.’
‘Looks like someone’s been murdered,’ I murmured.
‘Yes, but it will taste bloody lovely,’ chipped in Penny from over my shoulder, ‘because Hilda made it. Honestly, I’ve never known anyone with such a light touch with sponge. You should go on Bake Off, Hilda.’
‘I was all set to go on. I got through to the round before you go on television but then I had my fall. I’ll have to make you my signature cake one day.’
‘You were going to be on Bake Off?’ Penny’s eyes widened. ‘Did you meet Paul Hollywood?’
‘No, they don’t come to the early rounds. Of course I know darling Mary; we go way back, long before the Bake Off.’
‘Really?’ Penny squeaked.
I smiled to myself, by now used to Hilda’s stories.
As mugs of tea and coffee were dispensed along with generous portions of cake, we sat back down at the table, everyone dividing into smaller groups and chatting away to each other. Neil, Ash, and Charles were deep in conversation, Penny and Janie were bickering light-heartedly together as they usually did, Hilda was listening to Marsha and Elaine, and I sat back and let the general noise waft over me, with a lovely sense of wellbeing – although that might have had a lot to do with the cake. It was rather uplifting to see the disparate group in the room, all working towards a common cause. The sight and sounds filled with me happiness.
I belong. These are my people.
Chapter Thirty
Feeling ridiculously self-conscious, I pressed the button of the walkie-talkie. ‘You there yet, Jim?’
‘Just arrived, Claire. Over and out.’
The first marshal at the furthest point of the run was in place. We were good to go. For the last three quarters of an hour, Ash and I had been dashing here, there, and everywhere, consulting our lists, and checking laminated sheets. Runners had started arriving and wandering about looking for somewhere to put their sweatshirts and fleeces. I grabbed my notepad and scribbled quickly.
I walked over to them. ‘Sorry guys. Next time there’ll be a tarpaulin where you can leave things. That’s why we’re doing a trial run. For today leave your things on the run di
rector’s table.’ I pointed to the trestle table set up just beyond the staked-out and taped-off area which denoted the finishing funnel. Marsha and Elaine, our official timekeepers, were already in place with their stopwatches guarding the finishing line and Wendy, now official funnel-manager, was prowling up and down with a proprietary air. I didn’t mind one bit; the three of them were my secret weapon as, between them, their roles were crucial to ensuring that everyone who took part received the correct time for their run. At the other end of the funnel would be another two volunteers who handed out position tokens which had to be scanned along each runner’s personal barcode. It was all quite complicated but, thanks to the patience of our parkrun ambassador, Helen, I had a pretty good grasp of how the magic worked. I was looking forward to meeting her next week at our inaugural Churchstone parkrun when Ash would be run director. Today he was running but next week it would be my turn and although the two of us had run the course together a couple of times, I couldn’t wait to do it for real. I envied him today but someone had to be in charge.
Now that real people were starting to turn up and all of our volunteers were in place, it was all starting to feel official. Hopefully, next Saturday we’d have a few more runners. All this week we’d been putting up posters, sharing the date on social media, and had also sent out invitations to the other nearby parkruns in Leeds and Harrogate. We were hoping to get a few visitors coming to check out the new course.
‘You all right?’ asked Penny, appearing beside me and jogging on the spot, warming up.
‘Yes, just a bit knackered from juggling this and work. But I’m quite proud of myself. I told my boss no twice this week’—because that on-edge feeling had started to creep back—‘and they gave me the afternoon off for “community investment”, which was handy. I never realised this was going to involve so much.’
She studied my face thoughtfully before saying with a sympathetic smile, ‘I don’t know how you do it all.’
‘Some days, neither do I. Thank goodness for Hilda.’
‘Where is she this morning?’
‘You mean you haven’t seen her?’ I pointed across the park.
‘Yikes. How did I miss her?’
Hilda was sporting a brand-new running kit in honour of the event – apparently Poppy and Ava had helped her choose it online. I suspected Poppy hadn’t had that much to do with it; she had more taste than to choose the ultra-violet purple seventies-style tracksuit with its lime-green stripes down each arm and leg. It made the sunshine-yellow one look positively conservative.
‘Yoo-hoo!’ Hilda waved and we both laughed. Although not up to running the course, she, Bill, and Poppy were going to be our tail walkers today. Their job was bringing up the rear of the run to make sure that no one was left behind on the course. Poppy was desperate to have a go at the run while Ava was equally keen not to have to walk too far. This morning she was on a playdate with Janie’s youngest, for which I was quite grateful.
‘How are we doing?’ asked Ash, coming up behind me and dropping a kiss on the back of my neck. I turned, desperate to kiss him back and walk into his arms, but we were on duty. I missed him. But I knew how this worked. The job came first. I’d been like that once and I completely understood.
With a sudden flood of happiness, I just knew that for me, my job was no longer everything. I had a home, a ready-made family, and the parkrun, and it felt… enough. My life was full of things that I enjoyed and loved.
Ash might have only started his job in the last week but already our routine had changed. He’d had to put dog-care plans into place and Hilda, egged on by Poppy, had volunteered to collect Bill at two each day for a walk around the park before going to pick up Poppy and Ava from school on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays. On Mondays and Thursdays, Poppy would collect Bill from Ash’s ground-floor flat and take him straight out after school before bringing him back to our house. So Ash still called each day but it wasn’t the same. No run, no family dinner. He was in work mode, distracted and distant. Last night he’d been due to stay for dinner but had been late back from work and Poppy had begged for Bill to stay overnight and meet him here this morning.
‘We’re ready.’ I felt a fizz in the pit of my stomach as I grasped the loud-hailer. ‘This is it.’
With Ash following me, I walked over to the official start line and, as I began to move, the runners realised that this was it and began to make their way over.
Lifting the loud-hailer to my mouth, I scanned the faces in front of me. Ash gave me a big smile and a thumbs up. ‘Thanks everyone for coming for our trial run. I’ll keep it short and sweet today. If anything’s not clear or there are any problems or things you think need to be done, please come and see me or Ash or Charles at the end.’ I went on to describe the course, thank the volunteers, and tell everyone we were meeting afterwards at The Friendly Bean. ‘And finally, it’s really important at the finish to cross the line, stay in the funnel, and stay in your finishing position to receive your finishing token. If you don’t you’ll have Wendy to answer to.’ I pointed to her standing at the back of the crowd. ‘Don’t forget to get your tokens and barcodes scanned and make sure you return the tokens. That’s all folks. Good luck. Enjoy the run. On three. One. Two. Three. Go.’
At my words, the runners streamed away along the path, spreading out quickly. I could see Charles already working his way to the front, while Penny was running at a steady pace near the middle. I lifted my camera and snapped a few pictures, smiling so hard my face felt like it might split. This time next week, who knew how many runners we’d have. I crossed my fingers. Please let us have a good turnout. We’d worked so hard to get this far; I really wanted it to be a success.
Hilda clapped me on the arm. ‘We’ll be off then.’
I kissed Poppy on the cheek and ruffled Bill’s ears. ‘Enjoy the walk.’
With everything now done, loud-hailer hanging loosely in my hand, I walked the two hundred metres to the finish line, the sudden quiet ringing in my ears. Now all I had to do was wait – I glanced down at my watch – for approximately twenty minutes for the first runner to come back in.
At nineteen minutes past nine, there was a ripple of excitement as the first runner came into view, a young lad who seemed to be absolutely sprinting towards the finish line. The next runner was a good three hundred metres behind him and a hundred metres beyond him a third man. After that, the runners were more bunched together and all pushing hard for the line.
All the volunteers swung into action and everyone seemed to know exactly what they were doing. ‘Well done!’ I said, beaming at the first over the line, even though the poor guy was gasping like a landed salmon.
‘Well done, Claire, Ash, Hilda, Poppy,’ called Penny, waving goodbye as she and Charles headed out of the door of The Friendly Bean. They were the last to leave. With only twenty runners, the inputting of all the times had been relatively quick and easy and Elaine, Marsha, and Wendy were all finished by ten-thirty with test emails sent out to all our runners. Ash’s had pinged into his phone as we sat there.
‘Phew,’ I said, leaning back into my chair. ‘Aside from the tarpaulin, no glitches at all.’
‘We’re all set for next weekend,’ said Ash.
‘Let’s hope lots of people turn up.’ Hilda drained her coffee before adding briskly, ‘Now, some of us need to get back; I have a cake to bake. Claire has invited people for tea.’ She peered over the top of her coffee cup at me with schoolmistressy disapproval. I ignored her; she been quite exacting about ingredients when I’d gone to do the shopping. This Victoria sponge wasn’t going to be any old Victoria sponge. Apparently only Baxter’s raspberry jam would do.
‘Poor Farquhar. I was a terrible mother.’ Hilda paused as she sifted flour into a bowl. We’d been home for an hour, showered, changed, and the girls were outside primed and ready for the minute the invitation to come and lick the bowl was extended.
‘I’m sure you weren’t. You’ve given me tons of good advice.’
Out of the window I could see Poppy sitting on a blanket on the grass in the sunny garden with her faithful pal curled up next to her while Ava was administering to the patients of her make-believe hospital ward of soft toys tucked up in shoe boxes that she’d unearthed from my wardrobe, after clopping about in my heels for ten minutes. ‘Look at the pair of them; they’re both happy, thank goodness. I don’t think they’re missing Alice too much. Although I still worry about Poppy sometimes.’ I sighed. ‘I sent Alice another message this week. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t keep saying she’s stuck on a mountain for ever.’
‘You’re doing a wonderful job. They know they’re loved and that’s the most important thing. I learned that lesson too late. I think I could have done more to let Farquhar know that when he was a child and now it’s far too late. My son has got his own life and I don’t blame him. I wasn’t around that much. It’s karma.’
‘I don’t think it’s ever too late. He clearly remembers your Victoria sponge.’
‘He does?’
I nodded. ‘And he worries about you.’
‘Well he needn’t,’ said Hilda, although her sharp words were softened by her wry smile. ‘He always did prefer Victoria sponge to any other cake, funny boy. Even on his birthday, he wanted a plain sponge. No frills, no fuss. That’s my boy.’
‘Wonder where he gets that from? The two of you are quite similar.’
Hilda drew herself up with horrified indignation. ‘I don’t think so. He’s like his father.’ Then she smiled and with a shake of her head, added, ‘Not a spontaneous bone in his body. But, like his father, he’s also determined, loyal and, I will say this for him, the boy does have bags of integrity. He’ll always do the right thing. Where’s Ash this afternoon?’