‘A parkrun?’ Her features sharpened. ‘Like the one in Harrogate? My sister’s boyfriend goes over every Saturday, rain or shine.’
‘Does he?’ I said. ‘That’s a bit of a hike.’
‘Bloody loves it, he does. Says it’s quite a thing. About five hundred people every Saturday.’
‘Really? That many? Wow.’ I sat there trying to get my head around the figure. Five hundred people was a lot. ‘We’re certainly not expecting that many here.’
‘Why not? Harrogate’s a good forty minutes away. Plenty of folk round here might prefer to run local. And from what I’ve heard from Steve, they like to mix it up, visit other parkruns. Tourists, they call themselves.’
‘I’ve no idea what sort of interest there’ll be around here.’
‘I think you might be surprised.’
‘Well, before we even get it off the ground, we need to find out what the interest is and whether we can round up enough people who are willing to help. But first of all, I need to find out if the council will let us use the park and I’m going round in circles. I don’t suppose you’ve got any idea who I might contact at the council?’
Sascha gave a quick dry bark of a laugh. ‘Yes. Neil Blenkinsop… yes, that’s his name and yes, he’s a bit of drip, but a nice enough bloke. Doesn’t give me any bother. He’s Director of Parks and Leisure.’ She dug out a battered leather address book from her pocket and thumbed through the pages. ‘Here you go.’
I tapped the number straight into my phone. She eyed it with derision, I noticed.
‘So would you put a poster up?’
‘’Course. No problem. And I’ll open up one evening for you to hold a meeting. I might even lay out refreshments.’ She grinned.
‘Would you?’ I stared at her with surprise. ‘That’s very kind of you.’
‘Kind? You think? Where are all those runners going to come for a nice energy-reviving brownie and hot drink after their run? I think I’ll call it the Saturday Morning Parkrun Special.’
‘There’s no guarantee we’ll get it off the ground,’ I warned, not wanting her to get too carried away.
‘Well, you won’t if you don’t try. Everyone said I’d not make a go of this when I first started and now look. Now, when are you thinking about holding this meeting?’
‘Er… I’m… well…’ That involved making proper plans. ‘I need to find out if we can use the park first.’
‘Phone him now.’
‘And I have to have it in writing.’
‘Phone him. Isn’t that why people carry those things around with them?’ She dipped her head with disdain towards my mobile.
‘I guess.’ I shrugged, realising that I was going to have to make the call there and then.
It was answered on the second ring.
‘Neil Blenkinsop.’
‘Hi, Mr Blenkinsop, I wonder if you can help me. Sascha at The Friendly Bean has given me your number.’
‘Oh,’ he said and I got a quick impression of apprehension and resignation. ‘How can I help?’ he asked in a dry voice.
‘Well, we’re interested in setting up a parkrun and I wondered how we would go about applying for permission to hold it in Victoria Park.’
‘A parkrun? In Victoria Park? In Churchstone?’
‘Yes,’ I said, trying to inject enthusiastic encouragement in response to his flat tone.
‘A 5k run?’
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘Hmm, that’s very interesting.’ There was a long pause during which my heart began to sink; maybe I should have done this face to face; maybe I should have prepared a bit more of a pitch. ‘When would you want to do it?’
‘Well, it would be a weekly event. Every Saturday morning.’
‘Have you spoken to the Churchstone Harriers?’ The abrupt change of subject and his sharpened voice startled me.
‘Er, no. I don’t know them.’
‘Local running club. They go out on Wednesday nights. You should give Charles Engwell a call. He’s the chairman. He’ll help you. They have a Facebook page. Can you email me a proposal, as soon as?’
‘Yes,’ I said, casting widening eyes towards Sascha, surprised by this decisiveness.
‘There’s a town council meeting next Tuesday. Seven o’clock. I can put it on the agenda… but if you contact the harriers and other local runners they could come to the meeting and support the proposal.’
‘You… mean you support the idea?’
There was a loud huff on the other end of the line. ‘Victoria Park is one of the jewels in the crown of the Dower Dale district council but is currently underutilised. We have one of the most beautiful bandstands in all the country and I can’t remember the last time a brass band set foot in it. It’s a tragedy. I think most of the footfall in the park, apart from a few dog walkers, are customers of Sascha Comely’s establishment. All the children prefer to go to the indoor adventure place while their parents drink in the pub. The council has been assessing various initiatives to encourage people to exercise more; I think this would kill several ducks with one well-placed stone.’
By the time I’d put down my phone, I was feeling quite swept away by his businesslike enthusiasm.
‘Well, that was helpful.’
‘Blimey O’Riley. You’ve just discovered what turns Neil Blenkinsop on. Never heard him so popping before.’
‘That’s popping?’
‘Positively for him. Dry old stick normally. Although, come to think of it, I think I read in the parish magazine that he did the Great North Run last year, so I’m guessing you ticked one of his boxes.’
I suddenly realised that in all probability, I’d just cleared the biggest hurdle and that the parkrun might just happen.
Chapter Fifteen
‘Have a lovely time,’ said Hilda, sticking her head in through the window. Bill promptly tried to do the same, his nose just cresting the top of the wound-down glass, both paws resting on the door. ‘Are you sure you’ve got everything?’
That comment was a bit rich given she’d arrived after lunch with a solitary carrier bag perched on her lap when Ash had picked her up from the home. It had looked as if she’d brought nothing more than a toothbrush with her.
‘We’re not going on holiday,’ I pointed out, already regretting signing up for this trip. What on earth was I going to talk to Ash about for three and half hours, when I had only one burning question and it was the one I refused to ask?
‘A change of scene is as good as a rest. It will do both of you good to get away for a night. Who knows, you might even find you like each other after all.’
‘Thanks, Hilda,’ I said, glowering at her as she beamed at me, all sparkly and winsome as if she were our personal matchmaking fairy-godmother. If only she knew what had happened with him before. I bet she wouldn’t be quite so keen to treat him like her favourite grandson.
I heard Ash growl under his breath. Normal service had resumed. Although why he disliked me so much when once upon a time he’d given off such different vibes, I had no idea.