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

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The Saturday Morning Park Run: A gloriously uplifting and page-turning book that will make you feel happy! Page 32

by Jules Wake


  Don’t break a leg. Thinking of you. Wish I could be there. Go for it xxx

  He hadn’t forgotten us after all.

  ‘On your marks, on three. Three, two, one!’

  And we were off. I was swept along with the crowd and a tide of euphoria. Running in a crowd was so different to running on your own and I had to force myself to slow a little when I realised my breath was coming too hard and fast. This pace was much faster than my usual plod and if I kept it up I’d run out of steam. Unlike a lot of people alongside me, I knew about the forthcoming hill. I needed to save some gas for that.

  It didn’t take long for the field to even out and I settled into an easy pace, running for a while alongside a couple of the Harriers who all sported broad grins and each gave me a thumbs up as they noticed me. All the training had paid off and it made me smile to myself as I remembered those early days when I puffed and panted my way around the park, gasping for air. It was still tough and my lungs were working overtime but I had a rhythm, and each inward breath didn’t feel like a burst of fire in my chest. My legs stretched and flexed, hard at work, and I certainly knew about it as we started the climb up to Beacon Knoll. The front runners were long gone but I was pleased to see that a couple of people like me had slowed to a walk. I was never going to get up this stretch without stopping but I’d definitely improved since I’d first started running. Then, I wouldn’t have been able to run up any of it. I picked up my feet and forced myself to run up the last third of the steep hill, knowing that once I’d crested the top I only had one downhill kilometre to the finishing line.

  Hunched over, carrying tension in my neck and shoulders, I finally reached the top, my thighs burning. I hauled in a desperate breath and plunged downhill, allowing my arms to swing wildly, letting relief and gravity carry my body. My feet thudded on the soft, grassy path as I focused on the red top of the man in front of me. He was wearing a ‘50’ T-shirt, denoting that he’d run fifty parkruns, and I had nearly caught up with him. I forced my legs to go a little faster, I was going to overtake him. I think my head must have been flooded with hallucinogenic endorphins because the Chariots of Fire music was playing in my head and every competitive bone in my body had suddenly sat up and taken notice. I streaked down the hill, passing the other runner, hell bent on reaching the finishing line that I knew was just round the next bend, hidden by the shrubs crowding the entrance to this wooded avenue.

  I burst out into the sunlight, the finishing line just a hundred metres in front of me and ran so hard I thought my knees might give way.

  ‘Go Claire!’ yelled Elaine, who was a mere blur in my vision as I reached the end of the funnel. I heard the click of her stopwatch as I crossed the line.

  ‘Well done!’ called Marsha.

  I staggered up the funnel bent double and trying to catch my breath.

  I’m going to die. Or throw up. Or both.

  ‘Great finish,’ said the man with the ‘50’ T-shirt from behind me.

  ‘Thanks,’ I gasped. ‘Don’t know what got into me.’

  I held out my hand to the young volunteer dishing out the finishing tokens. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘This is a good course,’ said the man behind me. ‘Really enjoyed that. And so glad you’ve started one here. I’ve been driving over to Harrogate for the last two years. This one’s a bit more of a challenge.’

  ‘Mmm, I’m not so sure,’ I wheezed. ‘I knew putting that hill in was a mistake.’

  He roared with laughter as we joined separate queues to have our barcodes scanned and hand in our tokens.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The mood in The Friendly Bean was triumphant, especially after Sascha announced that the coffee was on the house. ‘For this week, only,’ she added with stern admonishment. ‘Don’t think I’m going soft or anything.’

  Her father, who, as promised, had marshalled for us this morning and was now helping behind the counter, rolled his eyes and carried on doing sterling work at the big espresso machine. I’d had a very useful chat with him on the walk back to the café after we’d tidied up after the run.

  ‘As if,’ muttered Penny under her breath and I gave her a nudge. Sascha had been nothing but generous to me.

  ‘Can I have that?’ asked Ava, reaching forward to my plate where the last third of the brownie I’d treated myself to sat.

  I frowned. ‘I’ll cut it in half and you can share it with Poppy.’ I glanced across the table where Poppy was sitting next to Penny, scrolling through her phone, a sharp-eyed expression on her face as she concentrated on the screen. She was hunched over her mobile a little too secretively to my mind. The school was very good at sending reminders about keeping children safe online which gave me cause for a whole new set of worries. Was I being diligent enough with the Wi-Fi settings? I trusted Poppy to be sensible but smarter girls than she had been caught out online.

  ‘Everything okay, Poppy?’

  Alarm skittered briefly across her small, sharp features and then she straightened and shoved her phone in her pocket. ‘Yes.’

  I narrowed my eyes, wondering what she was doing. I didn’t like the idea of snooping on her phone; she was a good kid. For all I knew she was texting or messaging some boy. ‘Want some brownie?’

  She shook her head and lifted her chin. I noticed she was a little pale, her mouth set in a stern line. ‘Ava can have it.’

  I lifted a brow. It was rare for her to let Ava get away with having more than her fair share.

  She shrugged. ‘I’m not hungry. Can I go outside?’

  ‘Yes, we shouldn’t be too much longer. Don’t go too far away.’

  Like a bird released from captivity, she sprang up and dashed outside.

  Penny caught my attention and we started chatting. When I next checked, Poppy was leaning with her legs crossed at the ankle against a low wall over by the swings, fully absorbed in her phone.

  ‘I can’t believe we had three hundred runners,’ exclaimed Elaine for about the fifth time from the table where she, Wendy, and Marsha were compiling the times and results for all the runners.

  ‘Neither can I,’ I said, still blown away by the incredible turnout. ‘Are you going to be okay with all that inputting?’

  ‘Piece of cake,’ said Wendy, slightly outraged that I had dared to doubt them. ‘We wanted something to get our teeth into.’ The three of them cackled away like Shakespearian witches and carried on typing into the laptop.

  ‘Don’t you fret, Claire.’ Marsha beamed at me, some of her wiry grey hair standing on end where she’d pushed her hands through it as she concentrated on checking that all the times and tokens were in the right order. I didn’t envy her; this was the point at which the technical wizardry happened. ‘We’ll get these results out by half past eleven.’

  As if by magic, each runner would receive their time and various personal stats about the run including their overall position in the run, position by age category, their age-graded percentage and their personal best time all in one personalised email. It seemed that overnight I’d become a proper runner because I couldn’t wait to see how I’d done.

  When the door pushed open, with the ting of a bell, some sixth sense made me glance up. Ash stood in the doorway, his eyes immediately seeking me out.

  My breath hitched at the sight of him, broad shouldered in an expensively tailored suit that definitely hadn’t been anywhere near a Marks & Spencer. The striking eyes held mine and part of me wanted to throw myself into his arms and another part wanted to protect myself. Over before it had started. I didn’t blame Ash for not being here for the run; I understood it, but I knew that this was just the start. There’d be lots of occasions where he wouldn’t be here for me or the girls or Hilda.

  I stood up and weaved my way through the tables to greet him, taking his arm and leading him back out into the sunshine, my heart heavy with what I was about to do.

  ‘Hey, how did it go?’ he asked softly.

  ‘It went brilliantly. Over three hundred
runners.’

  ‘Wow. God. Sorry. I should have been here. I left straight after breakfast.’

  I led him over to one of the benches, just sliding out of reach when he went to put his hand in the small of my back.

  ‘Ash, don’t beat yourself up. It’s just one of those things. Like you said, we’re building a legacy here. And today was amazing. I really feel we’ve started something and I’m proud of what you, me, and Hilda started. We were all in bad places and now look at us.’

  He leaned forward to take one of my hands but I moved it out of reach.

  ‘Claire?’

  ‘Ash. I don’t expect anything from you. When we met, things were different. Things have changed for me but they don’t have to for you.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘This last couple of days, I realised that things have to change now and I think we’ve reached the end of the road.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I sensed his genuine confusion.

  ‘You’ve got this great new job. You need to focus on that.’

  ‘I’m working extra hours at the moment while I get my feet under the table but it’s temporary.’

  ‘Is it?’ I searched his face and saw that momentary flicker of doubt.

  ‘Of course it is. I… need to the put hours in now but… you know I care about you. We’re mature adults. Okay, I’ve cancelled a couple of times recently but… you know what it’s like.’

  ‘I do. I completely get it and I’m really not blaming you or being a spoiled brat.’ I gave him a sad smile. ‘When we first met, we had everything at our feet. The attraction was instant.’ Our eyes met and my heart gave a little jolt at the memory of the first time I’d seen those amazing golden-green eyes. ‘On that first date’—I couldn’t bring myself to say that the air had fizzed with sexual chemistry—‘we were on the same page. We both knew our careers came first; they defined us. Both of us. I thought I’d die of the shame when I was signed off. Then I saw what happened when you lost your job. You need to make this job work and it won’t be long before you move on. I’m just trying to save some time.’ And some heartbreak along the way.

  ‘Save some time?’

  ‘We’re going in two different directions. You’ve got a new career and you’re going to want to put your all into that.’

  ‘But what about you? The partnership?’

  My laugh was hollow. ‘It’s funny… now that I’ve been offered it, I realise I don’t want it. I’ve come to see that there are more important things in life. My job has changed over the years and what I do now, it doesn’t give me any particular satisfaction. I realise that as I’ve climbed the ladder, I’ve got further away from the small-business work that once interested me. But the good thing is, it doesn’t matter so much.’

  ‘Wow, I didn’t know you felt that way.’

  I laughed without mirth. ‘Neither did I, until they offered me the promotion. I thought I wanted that more than anything else in the world. But it turns out I don’t. I want to spend more time at home and not have to commute every day. I want to enjoy my time with Hilda, with the girls. I want to make the parkrun even more of a success, go out for a gin with Penny and Janie every now and then… I want to cook dinner every night. I don’t think that domestic set-up is for you.’

  ‘And you’re not going to give me a chance to prove otherwise.’ He sounded bitter.

  ‘Ash? Seriously? You’ll put work first. You already did with the parkrun and I don’t blame you, I really don’t, but that’s going to happen more and more. Work will come first because that’s how you’re built and I’m not going to slow you down.’

  ‘Big of you.’

  ‘Don’t be like that, Ash. You’ll thank me later.’

  ‘Must be good having all the answers. Being right all the time.’

  ‘I only wish I did,’ I said, hit by a wave of dejection. I liked Ash more than I’d liked any man in a long time but he was about to return to his former glory; he had the chance to go back to being Ashwin Laghari, sexy, arrogant go getter. It wouldn’t be long before he was back up to speed and we’d be a distant memory in his wake. It was better to do this now before the inevitable happened. ‘I think we should concentrate on being friends rather than anything else at the moment. You need to focus on the new job. We need some space.’

  To my surprise, Ash gave me a pitying look and pushed himself to his feet. ‘What you’re really saying is that you’re not prepared to give us a chance.’

  No, it’s not what

  I want you, but I’m being practical because one day you’ll walk away because you don’t have to stay. They’re not your children.

  ‘That’s not what I want but it will make it easier.’

  He paced a couple of steps and then turned. ‘What about Bill?’

  ‘What about Bill?’

  ‘You’ll break Poppy’s heart.’

  I hadn’t thought about that and I shot him a mutinous glare.

  ‘I can hardly ask you to dog-sit all the time if we’re not’—he made irritating quote marks with his fingers—‘friends anymore.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ‘You’re kidding me? What about the partnership?’

  Karen put down the letter I’d just handed her and stalked about her office with her hands on her hips. I gazed beyond her out of the eleventh-floor window down over the Headrow to the majestic Town Hall guarded by its stone lions. Despite its grandeur, with its baroque dome and clock face, it wasn’t a view I was going to miss.

  ‘I’ve realised I don’t want it.’

  She whirled around, studying me as if I were some exotic species in a zoo that she might never get to see again. Her eyebrows beetled upwards and were lost in her heavy fringe.

  ‘What did Alastair say?’

  ‘He was very understanding.’ In fact, I was still reeling from how unexpectedly candid he’d been when he told me I was doing the right thing and that I ought to get a life while I was young enough to enjoy one. ‘I’ve put my heart and soul into this place, it’s cost me two marriages, and I’ve not seen my kids grow up. I’m not sure lowering my golf handicap when I finally get to retire will make it all worthwhile,’ he’d said.

  His words had helped, reinforcing the decision I’d already made.

  ‘And you’ve got another job?’ She wheeled around again, turning on her heels, accusation ringing in her voice. ‘Are they going to pay as much as we do? I didn’t even know you were job-hunting.’

  ‘I wasn’t. And it’s not about money. I just happened to meet Edward Comely. It was at the volunteer meeting. In fact, you could say it was your fault because you and Dave were telling him I was some wunderkind. Turns out he runs a local family accountancy practice.’

  ‘Comely?’ And then her eyes widened with sudden recognition. ‘Grey-haired guy, well-dressed, nice brogues. Damn, and I thought he was so nice.’

  ‘He is nice and also very astute.’ I thought back to the two-hour-long meeting we’d had on Monday after work. I’d spoken to him at the parkrun on Saturday morning and he’d been keen to meet up as quickly as possible.

  ‘And what’s he got to offer that Cunningham, Wilding and Taylor can’t?’

  ‘More client-facing consultancy with local businesses. Less pressure. Senior partner role. Four days a week. Nine to five. In Churchstone. I can walk to work.’ Edward Comely had agreed to every one of my requests. And he was offering good money too, but as I’d said, it wasn’t about the money. It was about being valued, being a part of something smaller, and besides, I’d really liked him.

  ‘Well good for you, I guess.’ The downturn of her mouth suggested she was being diplomatic. ‘I suppose it will save a lot of hours commuting and having a day off is a bit of a luxury. Although I’m sure we could have matched that. And we do have flexible working arrangements.’

  ‘It’s more than that, Karen.’ I didn’t think I could explain to her that I didn’t want the hard-edged politics of a big firm, th
e high-octane, demanding clients who assumed that big fees bought your soul and every hour of your day. It just wasn’t me anymore. There were also the simple practicalities: being able to drop the girls at school on my way to work, which would be so much better for all of us.

  ‘When are you planning to leave?’ She sank into her chair behind her desk. ‘You know we don’t want to lose you. Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind? You’ve got a three-month notice period; you can always decide to stay.’

  ‘I’ve made up my mind. Besides, Alastair’s agreed to put me on gardening leave as of the end of this week for a month.’

  ‘How the hell…?’ Karen blinked in amazement. ‘That’s… jammy.’

  ‘I’m going to a competitor.’ I shrugged.

  ‘Hardly,’ Karen dismissed Edward’s extremely successful business with a wave of one hand, which I think would have amused him. He had an excellent, solid practice that did good work and didn’t need or want to compete with the likes of Cunningham, Wilding and Taylor.

  ‘Don’t ask, don’t get.’ Alastair had been more than generous in our discussion. I think he’d been impressed by my candour. ‘He even said he was planning to come to the parkrun one Saturday.’

  ‘Bloody hell. I don’t suppose you fancy popping back in there and negotiating me a salary rise, do you?’ She stared down the corridor towards the MD’s office and put both hands on the table, stretching out the fingers in sudden defeat. ‘Bugger it, Claire. I’m going to miss you.’ She got up, came around the desk, and gave me a hug. ‘Really miss you.’

  ‘I’ll still be in Churchstone and you live just outside. You’ll have to come round one evening. Come to dinner.’ We should have done it before and I wasn’t sure why we hadn’t. I realised that Karen was another person I really liked. ‘Or we could go for coffee after the parkrun.’

  She grinned. ‘Dinner sounds like a plan, especially as you’re going to have all the time in the world to cook. I’ll bring the prosecco. I love pasta, by the way.’

 

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