‘Yeah, they’re the person on the day who’s in charge of the set up and running the show. They have overall responsibility for setting up the course and briefing all the volunteers like the marshals and timekeepers. Basically, operations manager for the run on the ground.’
Hilda clapped her hands and applauded him. ‘You have been doing your homework.’
I’d envisioned an assortment of runners doing their own thing and trying to corral them into doing things properly. This sounded like proper organisation was involved. Suddenly I was much more interested. I missed the detailed planning and knowing exactly where I was at work. Being involved in the organisation of something was much more up my street.
‘This is perfect. You should go and see him. Do the run and ask lots of questions,’ said Hilda rubbing her hands. ‘Where is Tring?’
‘Hertfordshire. North of London. But the Porsche could do with a good run. Let me call him.’ Ash jumped to his feet and went out into the garden. We watched as he walked up and down, ducking under the clothes airer, with his phone clamped to his ear.
‘See. He already looks animated. Good-looking boy, too.’
I could tell her bird-bright eyes were focused on me and I deliberately kept mine on Ash’s moving figure rather than meet them. While he might have improved physically, there was still that brittle veneer of bitterness that gave his words a bite every now and then, as well as the lost, distant air that made him retreat just when you thought the sun had broken through. What had happened to him to make him so different to how he had been before?
‘Right, that’s sorted.’ He came back in, bringing the chill of the evening with him. ‘My cousin has invited us to go down this Friday and do the parkrun on Saturday morning. A fact-finding trip.’
‘Excellent, Claire. You’ll have to go with him.’
‘Me! I can’t go!’ Not with Ash. Not on my own. Not in a car with him. ‘I’ve got the girls. My sister won’t be back until Sunday.’ And even that wasn’t certain.
‘I’ll stay here with them,’ said Hilda. ‘I can’t run 5k anyway. But it will be good training for both of you and it doesn’t need three of us.’
‘I can’t leave the girls with you.’
‘Why not? I’m perfectly compos mentis. They’ll be safe.’
‘I didn’t mean that, Hilda. I meant, it’s too much of an imposition.’ I might not have known her for very long but I knew that my nieces couldn’t be in safer hands.
‘Imposition. Supposition. I offered. Besides, it will be fun. We can have movie night and I can bake cookies. And it’ll be a night away from Drearyside. Freedom.’
Ash and Hilda looked at me, Ash with that bloody irritating lift of his eyebrow. First chance I got, I’d shave the bugger off – the thought of which made my lips twitch. Ash’s eyes narrowed in suspicion but I just lifted my chin.
‘Thank you for my room, Auntie Claire.’ Tucked up in bed against the blue and white pillows with her thin arms and narrow face, holding her kindle like a prayer book, Poppy looked like a model for a saintly Victorian headstone.
‘That’s okay. I’m glad you like it. Both rooms have turned out really well.’
‘Now you have to do the rest of the house.’ There was a slight smile playing around her lips.
‘What’s wrong with my house?’ I asked with mock indignation, knowing that my own bedroom seemed quite barren in comparison. One pitiful set of fairy lights did not transform four walls, a bed, a wardrobe, and a mirror into a boudoir.
‘Nothing… except, it’s a bit lonely in places, as if no one really lives here.’
Lonely was an interesting word, as if she’d ascribed the house a personality of its own. There was a lot going on in that young head.
‘I’m afraid I just never got around to doing much to it. I never… I guess I never had much time.’ Before the words had left my mouth, I knew they weren’t true. Time, I had in spades, I just hadn’t allocated it very well. Virtually all of it had been apportioned for my job and now I didn’t have that excuse.
‘Hilda will help you. She has lots of ideas.’
‘She also wears orange tracksuits,’ I pointed out with a pretend shudder. ‘And buys lime-green towels.’
Poppy laughed. ‘But she is very kind and she’s really good at cooking. I never made a cake before. It was amazing. She let us do everything.’
‘Never made a cake before?’ I echoed. ‘Not even with Nanny?’
Although, come to think of it, my mum wasn’t much of a baker; she was a brilliant cook and presided over her kitchen, which was her pride and joy, like a dictatorial chef. She didn’t make cakes, but she was a great one for going to M&S to buy really nice treats even when you were thirty-three and quarter.
‘No, when we go to Nanny and Grandad’s we usually do stuff. She takes us shopping for clothes and things or Grandad takes us to the cinema.’ Poppy giggled. ‘He really likes Pixar films. Have you seen Onward? Grandad took me and Ava three times.’
‘Grandad always took me and your mum to the movies.’ I smiled at the memory. ‘I haven’t been for ages. Perhaps we’ll go tomorrow, if there’s anything on.’
‘Cool.’
‘Would you mind if Hilda babysits next week? Have I told you about her parkrun idea?’
I explained what little I knew about the concept and that I was going on an investigative mission with Ash.
‘Is he your boyfriend?’
‘Ash? God no!’ I said. ‘I don’t even know him. Well, only through Hilda.’ I swallowed the lie painfully.
‘Why don’t you have a boyfriend? You’re quite pretty, even without make-up. Is it because you don’t want any children?’
I stared at her, a cold fist enclosing my heart. ‘I never said that.’
‘Alice’—it wasn’t the first time she’d referred to her mother by name—‘said it’s because you’re married to your job, which I don’t understand because how can you marry something that isn’t a person? I don’t think you can even marry your dog, can you?’ Her nose scrunched up rather adorably and I leaned over and kissed it with a smile, even though inside it hurt.
‘It’s an expression.’ I scratched my chin. ‘It means that your job comes first all the time. But I would like children one day… I just haven’t met a nice man yet.’ That was the child-friendly version of the truth. ‘And no, you can’t marry your dog.’
‘Bill’s lovely. If he were mine I’d still call him Hairy Carpet Dog. Do you think he can come again?’
‘Hmm, Ash is only looking after him for the time being. A bit like I’m looking after you. It’s just temporary.’
‘Will he go back to his mummy then?’
‘He’ll have a new mum and dad, I think.’ Worry etched tiny frown lines between her fine eyebrows. ‘But the people at the rescue centre won’t let him go anywhere he isn’t loved.’
She sighed. ‘That’s good. I’d like a dog. Ava wants a puppy but I wouldn’t mind a dog like Bill that needs a new home.’ With a sudden wriggle, her head shot up and there was a light bulb gleam in her eyes ‘Maybe we could have him… I mean, you. But me and Ava could come at weekends to see him. Then you wouldn’t be on your own when we go home.’