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

by Jules Wake

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that. I won’t know anyone. I’m not sure. All those people. Probably lots of proper runners. You’re not going to want people like me there. No doubt it will be very busy.’

  ‘You know me,’ piped up Ava. ‘And Auntie Claire, now.’

  ‘Oooh, I don’t know.’

  ‘Do come. You can come with us.’

  I needed every bum on a seat I could get. ‘We’ll be leaving at quarter to seven next Thursday night.’

  ‘Oh. Right. Quarter to seven. Good. Yes. Well, maybe. Yes. We’ll have to see. Bye Ava, nice to talk to you.’ Walking backwards as she spoke, she retreated into her house as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to end the interaction but wasn’t sure how to keep it going either.

  I really must encourage her, I decided as I led Ava back into the house for tea. She was exactly the sort of person we needed and who needed us.

  The kitchen needed a little navigation. A lot of stuff was packed away, as Hilda’s friend’s son was coming in the morning and was doing me a huge favour coming on a Saturday. He was going to decorate the whole room and put down a new floor. He seemed to think him, his mate, and his flooring guy could get it all done in one day, which was a great relief as I was due back at work on Monday and I wanted to get as much done before then as possible.

  Between us, Hilda, the girls, and I had finally opted for the Farrow and Ball green rather than the grey I’d originally envisioned and a wooden-style Karndean floor instead of the smart, unforgiving black slate I’d planned. With the existing glossy cream cupboards, the colour scheme was going to be smart and homely, especially with all the new cosy accessories I’d already bought.

  ‘It’s messy,’ complained Poppy, her eyes darting nervously around the semi-bare kitchen as I served tea up on the round wooden table.

  ‘Yes, but it’s only for a couple of days and then it will be lovely. And the new sofa will arrive the day after tomorrow.’ The kitchen-diner was about to become the heart of the house and the thought of it filled me with pleasure. Since the girls had arrived, it had already become the room we all used the most and I’d been tempted to move one of my sofas from the front room but then decided that I wanted a big L-shaped sofa that we could all pile on together with a small TV opposite.

  We’d settled into a good routine after school and it was difficult to believe that the girls had only been here for nearly three weeks.

  ‘So how was everyone’s day?’ I asked as we sat down to tea.

  Ava bounced to her feet, ‘Guess, guess, guess! I got a gold star.’

  ‘Well done, sweetie. That’s great.’

  ‘I got eight in my spelling test.’ Her eyes shone with pleasure. ‘Only two wrong and Miss Parr said my star was for hard work and best provement. And Lucy Chambers didn’t get one.’

  A little sunshine burst of pride lit up inside me. It was lovely to see her delight in her achievement, especially as she really struggled with reading and spelling. We’d put in a lot of work, practising every day and I’d made sure I read with her every night.

  ‘Huh!’ sniffed Poppy. ‘Eight.’

  I sent her a quelling look and she quietened. ‘What about you? What did you learn today?’

  ‘We built a circuit from our homework and the light switched on.’ She paused and a smile broke through. ‘It was kind of cool. It was the design Ash helped with and ours was the best.’

  ‘Well done, both of you.’ I rested my elbows on the table, suddenly proud of both of them. They were brilliant kids; they’d adapted so well to the news that their mother was going to be away for longer. ‘You put me to shame. All I did was pack up the kitchen and go for a run.’

  ‘How far did you run today, Auntie Claire? Further?’ Bless her, Poppy liked to keep tabs on my running stats because she knew I was desperate not to show myself up once we got the parkrun set up.

  ‘4.4k without stopping once.’ I bent at the waist with a little bow. Both girls began to clap and Ava hopped down from her chair and ran over to the tally chart we were keeping on the fridge door. She tugged it down and brought it over for me to fill in today’s total.

  ‘That’s good. Only point six to go,’ said Poppy with her usual precision.

  Only point six. All of us had come quite a long way in a few short weeks.

  So it was a heck of a surprise when, ten minutes later, halfway through tea, Poppy suddenly announced, ‘I don’t like broccoli,’ and pushed the vegetable to the side of her plate and let her fork drop with a clatter, folding her arms with mutinous teenage sulkiness.

  ‘I’ll have yours.’ Ava launched a rescue mission and stabbed at the broccoli with her fork, sending Poppy’s oven chips all over her lap and the floor.

  In response, Poppy jabbed at Ava’s hand with her own fork. Ava screamed, threw her cutlery down, and began to wail.

  ‘Poppy!’ I glared at her and put down my own knife and fork, picking up Ava’s hand. There were three neat little dents in the pudgy flesh but the skin wasn’t broken. ‘Calm down, Ava, she didn’t really hurt you, although, she shouldn’t have done that.’ I rubbed at her hand. ‘Poppy, that was unnecessary.’ Poppy shrugged and her mouth flattened in a recalcitrant line. ‘You need to apologise to your sister.’

  There was a small battle of wills as I continued to glare at her.

  ‘Soz,’ she said, her eyes meeting mine with a definite now-what-are-you-going-to-do look.

  ‘That’s not an apology,’ I snapped, irritated by her uncharacteristically unhelpful attitude. ‘What’s got into you?’

  She stared down at her plate. This was unchartered territory and I didn’t know what to do. I tried to think what Hilda would suggest. ‘I’m very disappointed.’ That struck a nerve. I saw her flinch. ‘You know better than that. How would you like it if I did that to you?’

  Poppy’s mouth tightened and she lifted one shoulder. I thought asking for a proper apology was pushing it, so I left it this time.

  ‘Right, let’s tidy up. Poppy, you can stack the dishwasher. Ava, go and get ready for your bath and no messing about.’

  I ran up the stairs quickly and set the bath going. When I came downstairs, Poppy was putting the plates into the rack but her movements were stiff and awkward and she kept glancing at the counters where I’d stacked all the things out of the way for the painter in the morning.

  ‘Is it bothering you? The mess?’ I asked gently.

  She lifted her narrow shoulders but didn’t say anything. With a flash of unexpected insight, I realised I’d come to know the girls far better than I could have guessed I would. It wasn’t just the mess; it was the uncertainty of everything in her young life. She was living in a strange house that wasn’t quite home, her mother was absent, and she was living with a woman who had no proper child-rearing experience. My heart clenched at the sight of her pale, stern face and I put my arms around her and pulled her into a hug. ‘Come here, you.’

  At first she was stiff and then she softened into my embrace and I felt her warm wet tears on my neck. ‘N-next w-week… when… w-when you go back to work… we won’t have tea here. You won’t… you won’t want us anymore. We have to go to Breakfast Club and After-school Club and go to bed.’

  Oh Poppy, I thought, hugging her tighter, my throat closing. ‘Of course I’ll still want you. I love you and Ava. You silly sausage, why do you think I’m buying a nice big sofa? It’s so that we can all have snuggles together.’ I held her close, not knowing what else to say and feeling totally inadequate. I wasn’t her mother; what did I know about how an eleven-year-old felt?

  Her arms crept around my waist and we stood like that for a minute and I wished I had all the answers.

  ‘Poppy, I’m sorry that I have to go back to work. It’s my job and that’s what pays the bills. But I promise I’ll still be able to look after you. I’m sorry you have to go to the clubs but… I don’t know what else to do.’ It was worrying the hell out of me and I didn’t know how things would work then and I wasn’t going to
lie to her about it.

  Being honest with her seemed to reassure her. I felt her chest heave with the sigh. ‘It’s all right, Auntie Claire.’ Lifting her head she gave me a stoic smile which ramped up my underlying guilt another notch.

  ‘Oh shi—! Shoot! The bath water.’ I hugged Poppy quickly and then raced upstairs with her hot on my heels. We made it just in time, the water already lapping at the top edge of the bath. I plunged my arm into the water to yank out the plug, ignoring my clothes.

  ‘Phew,’ I said, sinking gratefully onto the loo seat, the sleeve of my hoody dripping wet. ‘That was a close call. I’m a bit wet.’

  Wide-eyed, Poppy nodded and then giggled at the sight of me, half soaked.

  It was a relief to hear the childish release. The next few weeks were going to be challenging and top of my mind was just how long I was going to be able to fob the girls off with the landslide story to explain Alice’s ongoing absence. For their sakes, I hoped my sister would grow up and come home soon.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ‘You’re looking well.’ Karen the HR Director did a double take. ‘You really do look well. Have you spent the last month at a health farm or something?’

  ‘No, just eating properly and exercising.’

  ‘Well, keep it up. I’m supposed to ask you a whole load of questions about how you’re feeling.’ She grinned at me. ‘So how are you feeling about coming back to work?’

  ‘Fine,’ I said, although a little knot of anxiety had been burning a hole in my stomach since last night. I’d been super organised over the weekend. All the washing was done and ironed. The girls each had clean clothes for every day of the week. I had bought enough supplies for the three days they had packed lunches. We were up to date on homework. I’d done a menu plan for the week. I was on fire. But I still couldn’t help worrying about how it would all work. Poppy had been very quiet going to school this morning. I knew she wasn’t looking forward to After-school Club.

  ‘No concerns or worries?’ asked Karen. She pounced on my hesitation. ‘Anything?’

  This was important and I owed it to the girls to be totally honest. ‘My circumstances have changed and… well, I’m going to have to be more disciplined about leaving on time. Of course I can work in the evenings to catch up.’ So much for good intentions, but I wanted to reassure her I could do the job. That was my emergency back-up option.

  ‘Claire, you shouldn’t have to do extra hours. That’s what we want to avoid. Times have changed, love.’ Her Yorkshire accent deepened along with her sincerity. ‘And I know I’m not supposed to say that either, but seriously, they have. We, and I speak for the board, do care that our brightest and best members of staff don’t burn themselves out. This company is only as good as the people it employs; we need to look after them. Gone are the days when we expect staff to work all hours. Mental health and wellbeing are high on our agenda.’

  ‘Well… that’s good to hear.’ I’d heard it all before but this time it did seem to ring true, although I was pretty sure that working nine to five put paid to any promotion prospects. ‘I’m now looking after my two nieces; my sister is away at the moment.’

  Karen raised one of her heavy eyebrows. ‘How long for?’

  ‘That’s the gazillion-dollar question. I’m not sure but… it could be for a while.’

  ‘How long’s a while? A month, six months?’

  It sounded so lame and I shrugged as I said, ‘I’m not entirely sure, but I’d say at least a month, possibly longer.’

  Karen was visibly restraining herself from asking questions but I could see she was curious. We were friends of a sort, so I gave in. ‘My sister went to India on some sort of yoga retreat but apparently she’s found herself out there and decided to stay.’

  It was quite gratifying to see Karen’s mouth drop open in a capital ‘O’ of disbelief.

  ‘You’re not kidding, are you?’

  ‘Unfortunately not. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind having my nieces. They’re fab.’ My smile was filled with a burst of love for them which seemed to get stronger every day. ‘But I’m pretty pissed off that my sister has done this to them. She’s not even Facetimed them or anything.’

  ‘Blimey Claire. That’s… shit.’

  ‘For them, yes. But for me…’ An increasingly familiar glow of warmth settled in its usual place just under my sternum. ‘I’m kind of enjoying having them live with me.’ My lovely new kitchen was now finished and it looked wonderful. Last night, after everything had been done, the three of us had snuggled on the new sofa under velvety soft blankets and watched The Dragon Prince, which, despite claiming it was too young for her, seemed to have absorbed Poppy just as much as Ava. Another memory to be stored in the fabric of the house for as long as it was mine.

  ‘Well, it seems to be doing you good.’ She peered at my face. ‘I think you’re glowing. Or it’s make-up and if so I want the brand name.’

  ‘That’s just the exercise. I’ve been doing a bit of running. Me and some friends are setting up a parkrun.’

  ‘Whoa. Who are you and what have you done with Claire?’ We’d shared lunch in the canteen often enough that she knew this was not normal Harrison operating procedure.

  ‘I know. Who’d have thought?’

  ‘That’s amazing. You do know we have a community policy here? You can take paid days to do work in the local community. That would probably count.’

  ‘Now, that is useful to know. How would you feel if I left a little early on Thursday as I’ve got a meeting to recruit volunteers that night?’ I might as well push for it now.

  ‘Let me check the policy.’ She tapped her pencil in a quick rat-a-tat. ‘But I’m pretty sure it’s the sort of thing the company would support. Let me know when it starts. I’ve done the Hyde Park one a couple of times. It’s good fun.’

  Now, that was a surprise. I couldn’t imagine besuited Karen, who wore stilettos every single day at work, in trainers and Lycra.

  A dimple appeared in one cheek. ‘I wear Lululemon kit and Brooks trainers,’ she said, answering my unasked question.

  I bit back a laugh. ‘Do you break out in a sweat?’

  ‘I try very hard not to. It’s so undignified.’ She winked and we both burst out laughing.

  I settled back into a routine quickly and for once, when five-thirty came, I was more than ready to abandon my computer and dash out of the door to join the rush to Leeds Station. I’d given myself a very strict talking to: I was not going to fall back into my old bad ways. The downside of leaving on time was that I got caught up in the rush hour and commuting back was as miserable as it was in the mornings. I didn’t get a seat for several stations. Even with careful time management, Poppy and Ava were some of the last children to be picked up. The club closed at six-thirty and, on Wednesday night, three days in, I arrived at the school at six twenty-seven.

  ‘Claire, Claire!’ called Ava, running across the floor when I was buzzed into the After-school Club. ‘We had tea. Sausages and beans. And I played with the Lego.’

  I helped her put her coat on; although summer was just around the corner, the evening was still cool.

  ‘Come on, Poppy.’

  The older girl slouched her way over, dragging her coat along behind her with a heavy sigh. ‘How was your day, Poppy?’ She’d been sulky and difficult for most of the week. I knew it was just the change of routine and hoped she’d get used to it soon.

  ‘Fine.’ She glared at me as she shouldered her bag onto her back. ‘Until we got here. It’s lame and there’s nothing to do. And tea was pathetic. Baby portions.’

  ‘Well, that’s all right. You can have something when we get home.’

  ‘Goodie! Can I have some cake? Hilda’s lemon drizzle.’ Ava yawned sleepily. Poor things, it was a very long day for them. I did a quick tot up of how many hours they’d been on the school premises. Shit. Eleven hours. Longer than my working day and I was a grown-up.

  ‘We’ll see,’ I said as we file
d out of the building.

  ‘That means no, piglet,’ said Poppy. There was a vicious gleam in her eyes as she looked up at me.

  I closed my eyes briefly as Ava let out the familiar wail of hurt.

  ‘Ava, stop that. Poppy, apologise to your sister.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she said in a surly voice which clearly meant anything but, but at least she had apologised, which was a definite improvement. Maybe I did have some authority with her after all.

  ‘When’s Mummy coming home?’ Poppy’s tone rang with belligerence when we halfway home, walking along the road skirting the park, and I could tell she was spoiling for a fight; she had that boxer’s bounce in her gait as she walked.

  ‘I’m… I’ll phone her this week and see what the latest is. She’s very remote and India, where she is, they don’t have the same sort of digging equipment we do.’

  ‘Why can’t you call her today? We’re five hours ahead. Mummy never goes to bed early.’

  ‘Poppy, it’s late. By the time we get home, we need to get organised and then it will be Ava’s bedtime. Why don’t we ring her at the weekend?’ That would give me time to text Alice and tell her that she must Facetime her children.

  I shot a glance at my watch. ‘It’s already quite late.’

  ‘We’re only late because of your job. I want to speak to Mum. You can’t stop us.’

  ‘Me too. Mummy!’ trilled Ava. Dancing clumsily around my feet, she looked a little punch drunk with tiredness, bless her. ‘Let’s ring Mummy.’

  The jab about my job did the trick as she’d known it would, but when Ava joined in, even though I was tired and desperate to eat – I hadn’t had lunch today – I gave in.

  ‘Okay, we’ll try and ring Mummy when we get home.’

  We were still a few hundred metres from home when I had to scoop Ava up. She was on her last legs and stumbling with tiredness. Lifting her up, I had to struggle with carrying my laptop bag and my handbag as well as a carrier bag of groceries I’d grabbed from the M&S at the station. God, this was so unfair on them. I was knackered, so how on earth did they feel?