Chapter Sixteen

The YCCS charity fun run is a great success

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Our route was clearly marked with coloured flags, not only of peacock blue, but of every hue imaginable. It started in the car park, led alongside the roadside to the Victorian viaduct, a magnificent railway bridge of sixteen arches. As we jogged beneath, towards the boating lake, the first runners were already coming down the footpath on their way back! They rounded the eastern end of the lake, passed the War Memorial clock dedicated to fallen estate workers, and vanished behind a cluster of Rhododendron bushes. The clock read 11.10.

I usually stop by the clock tower to watch the wildfowl and the rowers on the lake. But there were no boats today. They lay upturned on racks or moored near the boathouse. The birds were lining up too, swans, geese and ducks alike, wondering why the humans did not pause for the obligatory feeding session.

It was very hot now and I was beginning to flag, but there was no sojourn by the waterside today. We had to press onward. My fellow team-mates were going strong, so I urged them to carry on ahead.

“I'll bring up the rear” I promised.

“We're 'Team Jen' !” Dolly tweaked the peak of his hat in emphasis. “We are all links in the chain.”

We followed the route along the north flank of the lake and headed east towards the viaduct again. Passed the kiddies playground and down the far side of the Meadow, where we found a modicum of shade under the Holm Oak trees. Rounding the end of the Meadow we came in sight of the cafe, the end of the race. Daniel took hold of my right hand and Dolly my left as Team Jen made a final push for the finish line. Our time was twenty-five minutes; the winners had done it in ten!

There were bodies slumped or lying prone all over the Meadow, hot, tired, but elated. The race was done, the battle against the elements and our own bodies had been won. Those first past the post were still standing, of course, or sitting on the cafe benches supping cool water from brand label bottles, or pouting it over their over-heated brows. The rest of us poor mortals had to make do with tepid water from our YCCS goodie bags. The bags also yielded travel-sized hair products ( so totally wrong for my hair type), a couple of brunch bars, and a commemorative T-shirt. I had never before seen so much peacock blue, and hoped I never would again. Dolly stripped off his yellow T- and donned the blue, resulting in a piercing wolf-whistle from nearby. The boy from the chippy again.

“Looks like I've pulled” Dolly purred, getting unsteadily to his feet. “See you back at the ranch” he called out to me, disappearing into the crowd.

Daniel wore a bemused expression as he watched our friend depart; he hadn't got a handle on Dolly's unique character as of yet. Fiercely loyal, sometimes capricious, but somewhat vulnerable that was the true Damien Dolland. We had grown up together, Dolly and I , and I would not change a single thing.

“I'll go get our stuff” Daniel told me, getting wearily to his feet. I stifled a smile as he walked stiffly towards the cafe, almost chuckled at the sight of our fellow runners moving around like so many re-animated corpses.

The cafe had been the depository for personal belongings and it wasn't long before he returned and handing over my bag said “I'll be back in a bit.”

Daniel wandered over to where Sir Dickie was holding court, talking to the winners, brother and sister Taylor and Sienna Brock-Hood. He and Lady Stephanie posed for an official photograph with the duo. Of course Dickie was working to his own agenda, as usual. Taylor Brock-Hood was somewhat of a local celebrity in the Yewell Valley. A successful long distance runner, the young athlete was in training to represent Team GB at the next Olympic games. He had taken part in the fun run to support his kid sister who had recently beaten Leukaemia.

Daniel shook hands with everyone and spoke with them for a few minutes. He held a small recording device in his hand. Then he and Taylor moved away from the others, for a private interview, perhaps.

As I sat waiting for a grain of energy to return to my jelly-legs I spied Ellen Pace picking her way gingerly through the bodies. She didn't like disorder and chaos. With her gaze fixed firmly on my location she walked purposely but carefully in my direction. I struggled to stand up.

“Stay where you are, dear” Ellen bid me. I did so as she took the faun coloured scarf from around her neck, spread it neatly on the recently mown grass, and settled herself primly thereon.

Since I had come to know Ellen personally, her sharp edges had softened; she was gentler and more caring than she had at first seemed.

“How are you feeling, Emily?” Ellen asked, taking a tiny battery-operated fan from the interior of a practical 'pleather' tote.

“Exhausted but exhilarated. My feet are killing me.” I tried to stretch out my aching limbs.

As we sat together in companionable silence a cheer erupted nearby and we both looked up suddenly. Sir Dickie and Lady Stephanie were unfurling a tape between them. Waddling in their direction was an extraordinary apparition, clad in walking shoes and Bermuda shorts. The YCCS logo was emblazoned across an ample bosom and peaked hat, accessorized by an enormous pair of sun-glasses. The woman removed her hat and waved it at the cheering spectators as she broke through the tape. The Herald's photographer had his final snap.

“Well done, Lyndsay!” Ellen cheered her fellow committee member.

I was speechless. An hour had passed since the starter had fired his gun and Mrs Roth was the last man home; and she didn't seem to care one iota. My straight-laced boss was lapping up the attention, beaming all over her pudgy face.

“She's not out of breath, or tired at all” I remarked incredulously.

“Lyndsay decided that if someone had to come in last it might as well be her” Ellen Pace confided. “She walked all the way.”

I looked up to see Daniel coming back, looking like the cat who got the cream.

“Taylor Brock-Hood has agreed to let me shadow him for a few days. It'll make a good story. ' A Day in the Life of a Long Distance Runner' perhaps.”

Daniel pulled me to my feet, and as I sagged against him he wrapped an arm around my waist and dropped a kiss on my brow. “Time to head for home, I think.”

So we bade farewell to Ellen and looked around for Dolly, whom we spotted leaving the cafe with the Chippy Chappy.

“Need a lift Damien” Daniel hailed him.

“Okay thanks. Going to Raymond's for a bit” He came over and gave me a side hug. “Look after our girl” he ordered Daniel.

“I always do!”

The sun was beating down upon Old Yewell with a vengeance as we parked in Richmond Street. I darted across the road to check on Aunt Jen, but found the front door locked. So I keyed in the code and used the spare key from the little black box on the door frame.

“Only me!” I called out, but silence answered me. She had felt like going to church after all. Jen was probably still with the Scotts.

Back at Daniels I could hear the shower going upstairs. He had opened both doors to let in some air, and a bit of a breeze was wafting through the house as I got myself a cool drink from the fridge. Then I settled down on the sofa, laid back and closed my eyes, just for a little while.