‘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 director’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.