Page 4 of Common People

Max had been so lost inside his own mind, he hadn’t seen them coming. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘I asked if you were OK,’ said a young woman, who was suddenly standing in front of him in a running outfit. She had on black Lululemon leggings, a tight white top and a pair of blue Asics trainers. She was pretty with large dark eyes, brown hair and slightly olive skin. Definitely English with a slightly posh accent, but perhaps with a Mediterranean parent or parents.

‘Umm, yeah, fine.’

‘Are you here for run club?’

Max looked across, and it seemed that everyone in the group had now stopped what they were doing, and they were all watching Max and the young woman talking. She reminded Max of a prefect at school taking a new pupil under their wing. She had definite head girl vibes.

‘Yeah, just, first time, you know. Bit nervous.’

‘You’ll be fine, we’re a good bunch. I’m Bethan.’

‘Max,’ he replied, and she smiled at him. A beautiful smile with adorable dimples in her cheeks, and he instantly felt more at ease.

‘Right then, Max, let’s introduce you to everyone else.’

Bethan walked off towards the group and Max followed behind her. Whether he wanted to bolt or not, he was now in. The good thing was, the group seemed to be quite a mixed bag of people, of varying ages and weights, and so the terrifying thought that he was walking into a group of extremely fit ultra-marathon runners, who would all leave him for dead, was something he didn’t need to worry about. Perhaps he wouldn’t end up pulling a hamstring, hobbling around in agony for days,or having a heart attack like Robbie had suggested. Max followed Bethan until they reached the group, and she introduced him.

‘This is Max. He’s a newbie,’ said Bethan, and immediately the middle-aged woman with the blonde hair stepped forward with a warm, eager smile.

‘How you going, Max? I’m Hope,’ she said with a broad Australian accent. ‘And I started this small rag-tag group of runners. I’m an Aussie, obviously, from Sydney, but I’ve been in London for over ten years now.’ She left a pause, which Max was clearly meant to fill.

‘Hi, I’m Max. Sorry you already know that because Bethan just said my name. Anyway, yes, I’m here to join the group.’

‘That’s awesome! Right, let me introduce everyone. You’ve already met Bethan. She’s one of our best runners, so watch out for her. She’s small, but faster than she looks. This is Charlie,’ she said, and the tall city-boy stepped forward. He was dressed in all black like a corporate ninja with floppy chestnut hair, and a top-of-the-line Apple Watch on his left wrist.

‘All right, mate,’ said Charlie in a deep public-school voice, shaking Max’s hand far too vigorously, as if he was trying to prove his masculinity. Max tentatively smiled back.

‘I’m Joe,’ said the older, overweight man, in a thick East London accent. ‘Joe Mitchell. Black cab driver, if you need a lift home after, and I’ve watched every episode ofEastenders.’

‘Right, thanks, Joe, but I live just around the corner, and wow, every episode ofEastenders? That’s impressive.’

‘Nineteen-eighty-five to the present day. That’s over seven thousand episodes. My missus thinks I’m barmy, but no matter where I am, I never miss an episode.’

‘I’m Eve,’ said the pale girl in an Irish accent. ‘From Dublin.’

‘Nice to meet you, Eve.’

‘And finally, Anita Kapoor,’ said Hope, and the slim older woman stepped forward.

‘Hello Max, welcome to the group,’ she said in a soft voice, etched with an Indian accent.

‘Right then, shall we start?’ said Hope, clapping her hands and then holding them together, and before Max could ask any questions, or do anything else, it seemed that Common People Run Club was underway. However, instead of stretching or warming up, everyone sat down in a small circle on the grass beside the fountain. ‘We always do a quick go around before the run, Max. Everyone checks in, tells us what’s going on with them. Why don’t you start today? Tell us a little bit about yourself.’

Max sat in the circle, and all eyes were suddenly on him. He could feel nerves shooting through his body, his heart rate was definitely more like it would be if he was actually running, and he felt the anxiety that had infiltrated his life since the accident, gradually filling his head with stress. When he had started at the BBC, first as an intern, then a junior researcher, he had countless meetings and group sessions when he had to introduce himself, and he hadn’t been nervous in the slightest. He had the confidence of youth then, and the luxury of never having the emotional stuffing knocked out of him. He took a deep breath, looking around the group of smiling, friendly faces, and he took the plunge.

‘I’m Max Lawson. I’m twenty-six, and I work at the BBC as a researcher. I live in Clapham with my flatmate Robbie. He’s Scottish, and makes incredible sandwiches. I saw a flyer for this run club on the noticeboard at my local coffee shop. I’m not a runner, but thought I’d give it a go.’

‘That’s ace, good on ya!’ said Hope enthusiastically. Max immediately warmed to Hope, and her infectious Australian energy. She made him feel welcome, and like an instant part of the group. ‘Anyone else have anything to add or ask Max?’

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Charlie said. ‘Are you training for the Clapham Half?’

All eyes were on Max again. ‘The what, sorry?’

‘The Clapham Half Marathon. It’s in ten weeks. I’m shooting for a sub two.’

‘Let’s not get bogged down with times,’ said Hope. ‘It can demotivate some people, Charlie.’