Cult Following
Disclaimer – I don't own Midsomer.
Chapter Four
Jamie drove down the streets of Winterbourne Compton, trying to find somewhere to park. The streets were lined with cars – well, those that were open, anyway – and an assortment of brightly coloured runners seemed to stretch into the distance no matter which way he looked. Eventually, he spotted an older man in a bright yellow hi-vis jacket directing runners towards a large inflatable gantry. Winding down his window, he approached slowly.
The man gave him a once over in the car, snow white goatee glowing in the morning sun. "You 'ere for the race, lad? Cutting it a bit fine, aren't you? Race is due off any minute now."
"Just spectating," Jamie reassured him. "Any idea where I can park?" After a moment's thought, he added "And recommendations on where I can get a good view?"
"Well…" the man drawled, thinking hard. "Official parking is at the primary school, across the way. They've probably shut the roads now though as the race is off soon. Tell you what, if you park up at the back of the Huntsman," here the man indicated a pub just a bit further down the street. "Tell them Dennis sent you, might want to stop there for a pint after."
"Oh great," Jamie smiled at him. "Thanks."
"As for where to watch it, the finish is on the green just over there but it does two laps so if you stand near the high street you'll see them three times in total – once just after the start, once in the middle and then you can shift it over to the finish with loads of time to spare."
"Thanks again." Jamie did as directed and parked up at the pub. There was no one around, but even so he intended to get a drink there afterwards. Hopefully with Clara, though he wasn't sure she'd want to.
By the time he had parked up he saw that the lurid colours of the athletes were more or less milling in one place. A large banner proclaimed that it was the start of the race, and he found his way to the edge of the tape a hundred metres or so from the first runner. He couldn't see Clara in the mix, but then there must have been well over a hundred runners as they lined up. A man with a whistle and a loudhailer was trying to get some order, giving out last minute instructions if the expressions on the faces of those at the front were anything to go by. He was facing the runners so Jamie had no chance to hear what he was saying, but the countdown was unmistakeable as the spectators took up the chant. Jamie joined in enthusiastically, cheering along with the rest when the loud klaxon rang out at the runners started.
They passed in a whirl of colour and motion, but even so Jamie just about spotted Clara at the far side, about a third of the way through the field. He cheered for her, but doubted that she could hear him as she remained focussed on the race. In a flash they were gone, the final participants either pushing buggies containing small children waving away or holding on tightly to dog leads, their canine companions pulling desperately as they wanted a chance to chase after the runners in front.
The calm that settled once the runners had gone by was disconcerting. Next to Jamie, a small boy tugged the arm of the woman he was standing next to. "Mum, can I go and get an ice cream now?"
Looking around, Jamie saw an ice cream van on the edge of the green, tucked in the space that was usually a bus stop. He exchanged a quick glance with the woman, who shook her head fondly.
"It's bribery for getting him out to his dad's races." She said with a smile.
Jamie nodded in understanding. "Well sure, I think some reward is needed for getting out here so early."
The woman laughed. "Don't encourage him!"
Jamie looked down the road to where the runners had disappeared. "I was told this is a two lap race – how long will it be before they start coming around?"
The woman looked at her watch. "Oh, I think about fifteen minutes for the fastest runners. The slowest will still be coming through from the first lap when the fastest are finishing. You've got about ten more minutes." She looked up at him contemplatively. "You look like you could use a cuppa. Let me get the terror an ice cream and I'll show you where the refreshments are, if you like."
"Please," Jamie sighed with relief. He'd overslept and had to rush out of the door without his usual strong coffee to make the start.
"They do a pretty good cake sale too." The woman confided as she paid for the ice cream and passed it to her son. "Raises funds for the local air ambulance."
"Well, if it's for charity…"
"That's the spirit! I'm Amy, by the way."
"Jamie. It's nice to meet you."
"Well, us running widows and widowers need to stick together. There ends up being quite a community." She led him over to a tent where a couple of women were busy pouring teas and coffees from large urns of boiling water. "Mind you, you look like you should probably be taking part instead of spectating."
"Oh, I've got just a small niggle," Jamie explained. It wasn't a lie, his right hamstring had been really tight since his run on Friday and if he stood still for too long it twinged uncomfortably.
"Ah, well you wouldn't be the first."
"You aren't a runner?" Jamie asked curiously. Amy laughed at him.
"Usually yes, but not for another… oh about five months." The way one hand drifted to her stomach made her meaning clear. Jamie was saved from his embarrassment by being handed a cup of coffee – strong and black.
"Well, I'd best see what Jake is up to." His new friend waved and headed away to where her son had found some play equipment. Not quite sure how long he had left, Jamie decided to head back to the course.
Only a minute or two after he got back, a bicycle came slowly along the course, the cyclist checking behind him carefully. The ripple of applause heralded the first runner before Jamie had a chance to spot him rounding the garden wall of the house on the corner. Putting his coffee on the seat of a bench Jamie joined in the applause as increasing numbers of runners came through. Not too long after the first runner, a figure wearing the white and blue vest of Causton Running Club came by.
"Go on Clara!" Jamie shouted loudly, cheering as she went by. He could see the surprise on her face when she registered who was calling to her, followed by a delighted smile and a quick wave before she was off again, hot on the heels of the woman in front of her.
The bulk of the runners passed by, but they were still trickling in as Jamie took his coffee over to the point where the track for the finish diverged. He continued to support the runners who were now coming in, some in garish fancy dress and others waving merrily to supporters in the crowds.
He'd just found a bin for his coffee cup when the first runner returned, this time sprinting towards the finish. It was like the start of a flood – first they came in a few at a time, but then clustered in a large group. Again, Jamie cheered for Clara as she came by, watching her just about hold on from another runner as she crossed the line. He then tried to make his way to the finish line to find that the crowds had swelled around him.
Fighting his way through eventually, he spotted Clara talking animatedly to the woman she'd just come in ahead of. Both were wearing medals around their necks and clutched water bottles with the name of the race written all over.
She saw him approach and beamed at him, gesturing for him to join her. "Jamie! What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I was at a loose end and thought I'd come along and support you. How did you find it?"
The endorphins had obviously affected Clara as she bounced when she spoke, rushing all the words out quickly. "Oh it was great! I just beat Freya, by the way Jamie this is Freya, but she ran me really hard and it was a great contest!" Jamie nodded a greeting to Freya whilst Clara was speaking.
"It means you've just about beaten me to the Club Championship too!" Freya said with a smile.
"Club Championship?" Jamie asked.
"The Causton RC Club Championship," Freya explained. "We were tied neck and neck, but now Clara has just beaten me! This is the final race of the Championship this year. Never mind, it means that I have even more motivation next year."
"Our friend Amy usually wins," Clara added. "But she's been out for a few months now, so for once we had an opportunity to try to take it for ourselves."
"I don't suppose your friend Amy has short brown hair and a son that loves ice cream?" Jamie asked pensively.
"Yes, that sounds about right."
"I think I may have met her earlier. She showed me where the coffee tent was."
"That sounds like Amy!" Clara said with a laugh. "And probably the cake stall… talking of…" She grabbed hold of Jamie's arm. "Come on, races mean post-race cake."
"Do we know if we got any prizes?" Freya asked. "I haven't checked the results."
"Prizes?" Jamie asked curiously. There was obviously a lot to learn about the strange world of races. In a funny way he felt that this was a rehearsal for the fun run in a few weeks time.
"Not today," Clara was saying with a shake of her head. "Worthy Valley came in droves today, they will have swept everything." She looked around. "There is the cake tent, could you get me a slice of Victoria?" She asked her friend. "I'll be back in a minute."
"Sure," Freya replied as Clara trotted away. She rolled her eyes and took Jamie's arm. "Come on, the cakes here are amazing. Particularly the Victoria sponge." She directed him towards a trestle table that was groaning with the weight of the cakes on top of it. Jamie's eyes widened at the sight of all the confectionery on display. "Runners know how to eat cake." Freya informed him, before she was called to by another runner and pulled into conversation.
"What can I get you dear?" The lady running the cake stall asked him. Jamie looked at all the options and felt completely out of his depth.
"Um… two slices of Victoria sponge, please." The lady passed him the cake wrapped in a piece of kitchen roll each, leaving him trying to fumble for his wallet whilst balancing cake in his free hand.
"Here," Clara materialised by his shoulder and passed some money over to the lady. "My treat."
"Thanks," he turned towards her, but stopped and stared as he realised in the couple of minutes she had disappeared she had managed to shower and get changed. Her hair was still wet and hung loose down her back and she wasn't wearing any makeup, her face still glowing form the earlier exertion.
"Oh that was quick," Freya said as she rejoined them. "Come on, lets get away from the crowds for a bit."
Somehow they found a free bench that all three managed to just about fit on. Jamie put his arm along the back to make more space and didn't mind at all when Clara scooted closer to him as a third person came to join them.
"Hi again," Amy called, waving at him. "Fancy seeing you here."
"This is Jamie. He's a…friend." Clara introduced him.
Amy nodded and would have said something when Freya asked her where Jake was. "Oh, he's with Lindsey's boys. She's offered to have him over for lunch, so we get a child free morning!"
"Does that mean you're joining us at the pub?" Clara asked. Amy pretended to think for a minute.
"Well, it would be rude for us not to! We can't stay long though, gran's coming over later to pick up a couple of things."
"How about you, Jamie?" Clara turned to him. "Want to join us?"
Jamie looked at the three women squashed together on the bench. "Sure, why not?"
The pub turned out to be the one he was conveniently parked out the back of. It took them a little while to gravitate towards it, and by the time they were sat around a table by the fire Amy's husband Dan had joined them. He had enthusiastically shaken Jamie's hand exclaiming over no longer being the token male of the group. This earned him a shove accompanied by instructions to get the first round of drinks in. Jamie volunteered to help, which led to him standing by the bar with Dan while the round was being prepared.
"So, you and Clara then," Dan commented slyly, looking sideways at Jamie. "Rare to see her with a guy."
"Yeah," Jamie replied, not quite sure where this line of questioning was going. "It's still pretty new, but we get on well."
Dan turned around until he was leaning on the bar, looking back at the three ladies chatting excitedly. "You're a lucky guy, that's all I can say. She's quite a catch."
"Mmmm," Jamie was noncommittal in his reply, collecting his and Clara's drinks from the bar. "I'm not going to argue there." He headed back to the table, receiving a smile from Clara as he put her glass of wine in front of her. "Not Prosecco?" He teased.
Clara pulled a face. "Not in this place, anyway. But their house white isn't too bad."
"You never think wine is bad!" Amy interrupted, setting Freya laughing again and Clara joining in after pretending to be annoyed for a moment. Dan returned with the rest of the drinks and the next hour or so was spent chatting amiably amongst the five of them. Jamie enjoyed himself – despite having been in Midsomer for a couple of years now, he had found his demanding job plus the fact that he met most people as potential murder suspects meant that he didn't really have many friends in the area. As he sat and chatted with Clara and her friends, he realised how much he had missed it.
All too soon Amy was standing and grabbing her coat. "Gran's coming around to pick up some things, so we need to head off."
Freya looked at her watch. "I promised Grandpa that I'd pop by and sort him something for lunch too, so we need to go too Clara. Sorry." She shrugged apologetically at Jamie.
"Well if my lift is going…" Clara didn't seem all too keen to leave, something it didn't take Jamie's detective skills to work out.
"I'll be heading back to Causton later if you want to stay a bit longer?" He offered and was rewarded with a beaming smile.
"If you're sure, that would be great."
Goodbyes were uttered all around, until the pub suddenly felt much quieter without them there. Jamie's stomach took that opportunity to rumble loudly, reminding him that one piece of cake wasn't really a suitable breakfast.
"Do you want to get something to eat?" He asked, looking around the pub to see if he could find a menu.
"That would be great! But maybe not here… oh I know! Come on, it's my treat." She dragged him up out of his seat and out the door, waving at the barman as she did so. Once outside, she looped her arm through his familiarly. "There is a little Italian place further down the high street that is apparently very good. I've been wanting to try it for a while but I haven't had a good excuse."
"And I'm a good excuse? I've been called many things before but not that…"
Clara pulled her arm away and went to swat at him, Jamie ducked away laughing. "You know what I meant!" She ducked into a quiet alley that led to the next street.
Catching up to her and pulling her around to face him, Jamie carefully brushed one of the strands of now dry hair that had fallen across her face back behind her ear. "I hope I do." He found himself looking down into her eyes, the intensity in them arresting. Before he could help himself, he realised he was leaning in to her at the same time Clara was reaching up to him. They held there, the moment stretching out for eternity but neither seeming able to break it or step away.
Eventually she licked her lips nervously to break the spell, her eyes flicking down to Jamie's own lips. It was enough of an invitation – he moved to close the distance between them and gently pressed his lips against hers.
As kisses went, it was chaste. Barely more than them just pressing their lips against each other. And yet….
And yet.
When Jamie finally broke away, he had to blink a couple of times to remind him where he was. Clara looked dazed. "Wow…" she breathed, touching her lips carefully with her free hand.
It took Jamie three attempts before he thought he could speak. "So…" he managed to croak out eventually. "Italian?"
"Oh, yes," Clara shook herself out of her daze and looked around, trying to remember where she was. "It's just down here." She gestured to the street at the end of the alley, where the occasionally passing shopper suggested a busier thoroughfare.
Jamie linked his hand with hers, carefully intertwining their fingers. "Lead on." He instructed. Clara looked down at their hands before smiling up at him and pulling him forwards gently.
