The Saturday Morning Park Run: A gloriously uplifting and page-turning book that will make you feel happy!

by Jules Wake

  She moved into the conservatory with brisk strides to look out at the garden. ‘The birds here in the summer are a delight. When he was… George would sit and watch them.’

  I went to join her, watching her lift her chin, her throat working. I put an arm around her and she laid her head on my shoulder. She smelled of roses. We stood there for a few minutes in silence before she spoke again. ‘It’s the memories, you know? I feel closer to him here. I thought moving into Sunnyside would help… but it f-feels like I’ve abandoned him.’ Her voice strained as her face crumpled. ‘God, I miss the stupid bastard. He was a complete idiot. Money slipped through his fingers and he was as crooked as they come but he made me laugh. Made me happy. We had such a hoot together. He always wanted to do things. He’d have been a terrible first or second husband; he was definitely a last husband. The fun one, when you’ve done all the important, adult stuff like jobs, babies, buying houses. He never took anything too seriously. Those last few months we had a ball.’ With a sniff she wiped her eyes. ‘And then he died.’ She sank into a battered armchair by the window. ‘Right here.’ With old, veined fingers she patted the arm of the chair. ‘And then six months later I had a stupid fall. Broke my hip.’

  An unhappy twist touched her mouth. ‘And then Farquhar decided I shouldn’t be here on my own.’

  I knelt down next to her and took her hand, gently squeezing her fingers. ‘Oh Hilda, I’m sorry.’ I could see his point; it was a huge house, but now I realised it was also the repository of Hilda’s memories of her late husband and I could see how much it meant to her. It was home. We were lost in thought for a few moments until a cheeky robin bounced onto the wall outside, eyeing us both with curiosity. Hilda laughed and straightened up.

  ‘Freddie’s back. George had names for them all. No point being maudlin. Now, what’s happening on the parkrun?’

  I blinked at the sudden change of tack but there was no arguing with the determined set of Hilda’s face and the lines fanning out around her mouth. We were moving on.

  ‘I saw Penny and Janie at school this morning. Janie is emailing the final design for the leaflet and poster today and as soon as I’ve signed it off, it will go to the printer and he can have them done by Monday next week.’

  ‘That’s marvellous news.’

  ‘That gives us a week to distribute leaflets telling people about the meeting which we’ve agreed with Sascha will take place the following Thursday.’

  ‘You’re making excellent progress.’

  ‘I’m getting a lot of support. The Harriers have been brilliant, but I guess they’re interested in running, so it’s hardly surprising. It’s the wider community I’m worried about. Getting people to sign up to help. If we don’t have the volunteers, it’s a non-starter.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about that.’ She tapped her nose.

  But I was worried. I couldn’t imagine why people would sign up and give up their precious Saturday mornings. Didn’t most people have better things to do? A little voice in my head scoffed, what, like you did? Going to work on a Saturday morning had been a habit for years, the best way to catch up with myself. I wouldn’t be able to do that for the foreseeable future, not while I had Poppy and Ava staying with me.

  ‘Now,’ Hilda lifted her wrist, ‘you’re going to be late meeting Ash and I’d hate you to miss your run. I did mine at seven o’clock this morning,’ she added a tad smugly.

  ‘You’ve shaved your beard off,’ I said, stopping dead at the sight of a clean‐shaven Ash coming towards me on the path. And then for some bizarre reason I promptly burst into tears.

  Ash immediately put his arm around my shoulder and led me to our usual park bench and sat me down as I sobbed. It was the first time in a very long time that I felt crying wasn’t a weakness and that I allowed myself to feel the emotion and let go.

  ‘Hey, hey,’ he murmured, pulling me into his chest. ‘I thought you’d be pleased about the beard. I didn’t expect this kind of reaction.’

  Dragging in a hoarse breath, I let out a spluttery laugh. ‘S-sorry. It’s nothing to do with the beard.’ At least, I didn’t think it was. At the back of my mind I was aware that it was a sign that things were changing. ‘I’ve j-just s-seen Hilda.’

  Ash hugged me tighter. ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘Yes, I guess.’ Sadness overwhelmed me again. ‘But not really. I’ve been to her house today.’ I blinked at him and wiped away the last of my tears, my throat choked again. ‘It’s so sad. It’s a beautiful house but she’ll never live there again and she knows it.’

  Ash held my hand as I spoke, squeezing it gently. ‘It’s full of memories of her late husband.’ I thought of her careful handling of the netsuke ornament. ‘Full of things that mean so much to her. There’s a whole life packed into that house.’ I paused. ‘I think Hilda is actually quite lonely. The negative comments she makes about the other people in the home, I think that’s frustration that they can’t keep up with her rather than from real malice. I think we’re helping her as much as she’s helped us.’ I stopped and cast a quick glance at the empty space on the bench, a smile accompanying the memory of the first time I met Hilda. ‘She’s good at finding us things to do. She has a very clever habit of telling us what we need to do and then she carries on talking, changing the subject before we have time to say no, so that by the end of the conversation, it’s a fait accompli.’

  Narrowing his eyes, he considered my words. ‘You’ve got it right. That’s exactly what she does.’

  ‘Probably a tactic she learned in her MI6 days.’ I sighed. ‘Sorry. It just got to me.’

  He lifted his hand and swiped a thumb over my tearstains. I stared at his face, all the planes and angles revealed in their full glory. My mouth went dry. ‘You look so much better,’ I blurted out, except my voice had gone all husky with the sudden bolt of lust. My emotional outburst had left me feeling a little raw, bringing everything to the surface and my tenuous control slipped. Every nerve ending was tuned into Ash. He was back to his old self and he was positively mouth-wateringly gorgeous. For those few seconds I was unable to take my eyes off the lean lines of his jaw and cheekbones.

  A slow smile lit his face. ‘Like what you see?’ There was just a faint echo of his former cockiness in the words and a slight lift of his mouth at one side, a crooked, knowing line of his lips.

  And suddenly, just like the night at Darren’s, all the sexual chemistry that had been on low charge for weeks came roaring back.

  I nodded and reached forward to brush my fingers across the bare skin of his face. His lips grazed my hand and then he leaned forward and kissed me very, very gently on the lips, as if I might break under his touch.

  It was a soft kiss, a gentle hello and a promise of things to come, and we both drew back, each of us smiling almost shyly.

  ‘So what brought this on?’ I lifted my hand again to feel his freshly bared skin, unable to stop myself.

  ‘I’ve got a second job interview. That’s where I was on Tuesday afternoon. And I have another job interview lined up next week.’ Stars of happiness danced in his eyes and it was such a wonderful sight that I couldn’t help myself.

  ‘Oh Ash, that’s fantastic.’ I threw my arms around him and hugged him. ‘I’m so pleased for you. Where? When?’ As I started to pull away, his hand clamped on top of mine, a sudden sparkle in his eyes, that barely-there lift of an eyebrow. Like a switch tripping, the hormones took over and fireworks fizzed in my chest, my stomach making my toes curl. He could read me as well as I could read him. We’d always been on the same wavelength when it came to the thread of sexual attraction between us.

  I flinched as his eyes locked on mine, his steady gaze sending my heartrate into a gallop.

  ‘I think you’re more excited than I am,’ he stated in a cool drawl with another twitch of that crooked mouth. Despite his sang-froid response, I knew he felt the fizz between us. This time, the kiss was an X-rated sizzler.

  When the kiss finally came to an end,
both of us slightly out of breath, he leaned his forehead against mine. ‘I feel like we’re back where we started. I think this isn’t far from the very first place I kissed you.’ We both turned to look at the lamppost a few metres behind us.

  ‘A lot’s happened since then.’ I sighed

  ‘Yeah and… I’ve been a dick.’

  I raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Don’t get too used to me saying it. I was a self-absorbed prick and I don’t know why you’ve stuck around.’

  ‘To be honest, I didn’t really have much choice. Hilda seemed determined to befriend both of us.’

  ‘Her lost souls. But you were kind. You sent that text… and I certainly didn’t deserve it.’ He reached out and held my hand. ‘Shit, I was a mess. I owe her… and you. I’ve no idea why you stuck by me. I was a miserable bastard. What would either of us have done without Hilda?’

  ‘I dunno.’ I lifted my head to give him a frank stare. ‘But I think we helped save her too.’

  He tilted his head with laughing dismissal. ‘You think? I’m not so sure about that.’

  ‘I am.’ I spoke with sudden certainty, remembering her at the house earlier.

  ‘It wasn’t just Hilda, you know. There were lots of times you could have told me to piss off.’

  ‘I guess I was worried about you as well.’

  ‘You hardly knew me.’

  ‘We slept together. That’s quite an intimate way of getting to know someone.’

  He winced. ‘And I cocked that up, good and proper.’

  ‘Yeah, you did. I don’t normally sleep with people that easily.’ I paused and looked directly into his eyes. ‘You hurt me.’

  He lifted a tentative hand to my face. ‘And I’m deeply sorry for that. It was a terrible way to treat you and I bitterly regret it now. If it’s any consolation, I was so full of self-loathing that I was determined to burn every last bridge. If I hadn’t been made redundant, I was going to call you and ask to see you on the Monday night.’

  I gave him a sad smile. ‘And I probably would have said yes.’

  ‘I’m really sorry, Claire. After I lost my job, yes I was angry and bitter, but also I didn’t think I was good enough for someone as amazing as you.’ This time his apology was enough, but I wasn’t going to be a pushover. He was going to have to prove himself all over again. All I’d ever wanted from him was honesty. It had been the foundation on which we’d started, pushing each other past the façades we’d both built.

  ‘You’re forgiven. And talking of sneaky subject changes,’ I pursed my lips and folded my arms, quirking my own eyebrow in a replay of his, deliberately bringing the tone back to friendly banter, ‘are you going to tell me about this job interview?’

  Sudden amusement danced in his eyes and he leaned down and kissed me with a fleeting brush on the lips. ‘You’re a smart cookie, did you know that?’

  I frowned. Where was he going with this?

  ‘Finance Director.’ He paused and kissed me again, punctuating his words with more kisses. ‘For an engineering company.’ Another kiss. ‘Offices all around the UK.’

  ‘An engineering company?’ I gave him a sharp nudge in the ribs, a cocky tilt to my head, even though inside I was beaming. ‘Well, how about that?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re allowed to take all the credit. And I don’t mind if you say “I told you so,” I’m so bloody grateful to get an interview. But… thank you.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything. You’re the one with the CV, references, and track record.’

  ‘I think you did. As soon as I – admittedly reluctantly because I’m pig headed – changed tack I landed two interviews straight away.’

  ‘That’s brilliant, I’m so pleased for you.’

  ‘I haven’t got them yet.’

  ‘Yes, but it…’ I bit my lip.

  He took pity on me. ‘Shows that someone wants me despite all my self-pitying navel-gazing.’

  ‘It’s a confidence boost,’ I said.

  ‘It is, but it’s come at the right time.’ He shot me a hesitant, sidelong glance. ‘I should have been braver, like you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You realised you had a problem. You went to the doctor. I know you didn’t like being signed off but it was the right thing. Whereas I knew I wasn’t right but I couldn’t admit it to myself.’

  ‘I have a confession to make. If I’d have thought for one minute I’d be signed off, there’s no way I would have gone to the doctor’s. I only went because of that stupid cut and if I’d put Savlon on it like you suggested…’

  ‘Maybe it was subconscious. You knew something was wrong but focused on your arm.’

  I realised he was probably right.

  ‘Whatever it was, you still went. Whereas I just hid and drank myself stupid for a week. God knows what would have happened if I hadn’t gone out running a couple of times and that was only because I was bored out of my brain. The running has helped. A lot.’ He paused and lifted a hand to my face. ‘I think dinner is long overdue.’

  ‘Dinner would be nice,’ I said with a sigh, almost nestling into his touch.

  ‘The Beech House. Next Friday?’

  ‘Do we want to go back there? I wonder if it’s jinxed.’

  ‘It’s not jinxed; this time I won’t be a dick and I’ll call you afterwards.’ His smooth-shaven face dimpled with a smile before he added, ‘I’m too scared of Hilda not to.’

  ‘Oh God, you do realise she’s going to be unbearable.’

  ‘She’s going to be bloody thrilled and she won’t be able to say no to babysitting.’

  I laughed. ‘I don’t think she would anyway. It feels like she’s moved in, although I’m not complaining. She’s a fabulous cook.’

  ‘Probably taught Raymond Blanc everything he knows.’

  ‘Wasn’t it Mary Berry? Do you think she’s really done all the things she’s said?’

  ‘Who knows?’

  ‘One of these days, I ought to google her.’ I’d thought about it a couple of times.

  ‘Don’t do that. Just think how disappointed we’d be if it turned out she’d embellished things.’

  ‘True,’ I said, liking the way he phrased the sentence. Embellished sounded so much kinder.

  Suddenly everyone else seemed to be moving forward and I was about to step back into the same old groove. I was due back at work next week and in a lightning-strike moment, I wasn’t sure it was where I wanted to be anymore. The thought shocked me so much I missed a breath.

  The thought of getting on a train every morning and leaving Churchstone filled me with dread. I loved my morning routine now, taking the girls to school, having a quick chat with Penny and Janie, going for a run and then going home. With sudden insight I realised I didn’t want to leave my home every day, I wanted to stay in it and play. Enjoy being there. I derived huge satisfaction bringing the house back to order after the girls had swept through. Making it all neat and tidy again.

  The painter was due this week and I’d ordered new furniture for the kitchen-diner to turn it into more of a family living space, as we seemed to spend so much time in there.

  My heart banged uncomfortably as it dawned on me that I didn’t want to spend hours and hours in an office ploughing through data and figures anymore, almost divorced from real life. I wanted to spend time with people, look after them, cook, clean, make a home. I wanted to solve problems and find solutions for things that mattered, not churn out endless consultancy reports on the possible viability of projects that may never happen.

  For so long my job had consumed me… and now I didn’t think I wanted to go back. What would I do, though? My job defined me. Without it, what was I? For a moment I was filled with terror; I felt like I’d stepped into no-man’s land and on either side there was nothing to rescue me.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ava was hanging from the fence, like a small, agile monkey, chatting to my neighbour, whose name I’d completely forgotten. She’d intro
duced herself when I’d first moved in and, I’ll be honest, she hadn’t seemed like my type so I’d paid little attention and, to my shame, I’d actively avoided her, exchanging probably fewer than six words with her. Ava was more than making up for it now.

  ‘Teatime, Ava,’ I said with a friendly nod at the woman, interrupting the little girl’s monologue about her soft toys which, it appeared, was being well received with rapt nods and the odd squeaky, ‘Well I never!’ or high-pitched ‘Really?’.

  ‘Hello,’ I said, acknowledging the woman but in a cut-off tone that forbade further engagement. There was homework to be done and bath time to be had after tea, both of which Ava was very good at putting off until the absolute last minute.

  ‘Ava’s been telling me all about the parkrun. She’s a clever little girl.’ My neighbour held up one of the leaflets that we’d been out distributing on our way back from school. One through every letterbox on the route home. It was the last leaflet drop; over the last few days, Janie, Penny, and I, and our respective children, had been out every night after school. The meeting next Thursday had been promoted on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter and the local radio station was interested in doing an interview about our plans.

  ‘It sounds very exciting.’

  ‘Mmm,’ I said. Exciting was the not the word I’d have used. Terrifying more like. What if no one turned up?

  ‘Well, different anyway. I’ve seen you going out running. That’s very disciplined. Good for you. Not sure I could run for a bus. Never was very good at sport.’ Ducking her head, she scrutinised the leaflet, moving her lips as she read. ‘Five kilometres. What’s that in real money? Quite a way. I certainly couldn’t run that far. Not sure my hips are built for running.’

  ‘People are welcome to come and walk it,’ I said.

  ‘Are they? What, not run it? Well, that would be something at least. I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said with feeling, realising there might be lots of people like her who needed a reassuring nudge. ‘We want everyone to feel they can join in. Walking, running, or volunteering to help. You should come to the meeting.’