by Paige Toon
I stand there and glare at him.
‘What?’ he asks innocently.
At that moment Will walks into the hospitality area and my expression must have changed dramatically because Luis sharply spins around to see who has caught my attention. I quickly try to cover up by tidying the serving table in front of me as I notice Will taking a seat with Tarquin and Frederick. I glance back at Luis and see a twinkle in his eye.
Later that afternoon, I’m hard at work when I hear someone shout.
‘Oi, Daisy!’ Pete pops his head around the door.
‘What do you want?’ I shout back cheekily.
‘Are you coming out tonight?’
‘Why, what’s the plan?’
He looks comically from side to side to make sure no one is within earshot. ‘We’re going for a piss-up in the city.’
‘Another one? Shouldn’t you be setting an example?’ I joke. ‘You’re the chief mechanic.’
‘Yeah, well, you’re the chief bun tart.’ He grins at me and I notice a couple of catering staff surreptitiously smirk at each other.
‘What is it with that term?’ I explode. ‘I heard it for the first time today and now everyone’s saying it!’
Pete cracks up laughing. ‘Yeah, Luis told me your face was such a picture this morning.’
Him again.
‘He’s not coming out, is he?’
‘Nah, he’s got some sponsorship event to attend.’
‘Another one?’
‘Yeah. All the bloody time. He hates them.’
‘Too bad for him. I’ll come, then,’ I say, snootily. ‘As long as he’s not coming.’
‘I can’t guarantee he won’t turn up later . . .’
We’re staying at a hotel in the city – all the mechanics are in the same one as us so we arrange to meet at the hotel bar later. Once again, Holly and I did the early shift, so Frederick lets us leave soon after we’ve helped out with dinner. Luckily, Klaus and Gertrude are not really party animals so that works out just fine.
We go to a bar with a perfect view of the soaring Petronas Twin Towers, glowing white in the night. Even after an hour, I’m finding it hard to tear my eyes away from the strange Islamic-looking skyscrapers with their interlinking bridge, but when Dan gets a text from Luis demanding to know where we are, my attention is immediately diverted.
‘Don’t tell him!’ I beg.
He just laughs while typing out a reply. ‘Why don’t you like him?’ he asks afterwards.
‘I don’t know how anyone can like him!’
‘What’s he ever done to you?’ he persists.
‘He almost ran over me and then called me a silly woman driver, for one thing.’
‘He’s only teasing . . .’
‘He is not!’ I respond hotly.
‘Okay, okay.’ Dan gives up.
Later, when Luis emerges, I’m still in a mood. I don’t see the person behind him until he’s almost at our table.
‘Will!’ Pete shouts.
I feel dazed, jittery, sick with excitement. While the lads all jump up to shake the drivers’ hands, I flash a glance at Holly. She rolls her eyes at me.
‘Budge over, will you.’
I look up to see Luis standing by my side. I must have a delayed reaction because he pushes my arm and indicates the chair next to me. I reluctantly move across to it.
‘How’s it going, bun tart?’ he asks, when he’s seated.
I glare at him. ‘You really expect me to answer?’
He leans back in his chair and grins at me, smile sparkling in the low-level lighting.
‘You don’t like me, do you?’ he asks.
‘Where on earth did you get that idea?’ I reply sarcastically, flashing a look at Will amongst all the mechanics.
Luis glances up at him and then leans towards me and whispers conspiratorially, ‘But you like him, don’t you?’ He laughs when he sees my horrified face. ‘Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.’
‘Fottiti!’ I hiss at him.
‘Now, what does that mean?’ He’s still smiling and I want to slap him.
‘It means go fuck yourself!’
‘Nossa Senhora . . .’ Luis looks disturbed and leans back in his seat again.
I don’t speak Portuguese – the language of Brazil – but I recognise his words as being simply, ‘Our Lady’, as in the virgin mother.
‘You really are a piece of work, aren’t you?’ he adds.
I instantly regret being so snappy. The look on his face tells me he really was only teasing and I’ve just been a complete bitch, but I still can’t help folding my arms in defiance.
Luis taps his fingers on the table and stares across at Holly, unsmiling.
‘Is she talking dirty to you again?’ Holly calls, trying to clear the air.
‘If she were talking dirty, I wouldn’t mind,’ Luis calls back.
I should apologise, but the words just won’t come. A few seconds later, Luis stands up.
‘I need a drink,’ he says unhappily, heading over to a few of the lads at the bar.
Holly gives me a disapproving look.
‘I know, I know,’ I say crossly.
She lets it drop, but the jittery sickness I felt earlier has been replaced with another kind of sickness, and it’s not pleasant.
I glance at Will again, and at that moment, he catches my eye and joins us at the table.
‘Alright?’ he asks.
‘Hi!’ I immediately perk up.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ He looks from Holly to me.
‘Um . . .’ Holly considers his question.
‘No, no, we’re fine!’ I interject. Sorry, Holly, but I don’t want him to go off again. ‘Have a seat!’ I point to the one recently vacated by Luis.
‘We don’t usually see you out and about,’ Holly says as he sits down.
‘Mmm, Tarquin wouldn’t be too impressed,’ he replies wryly. ‘Luis dragged me along. Promised me we’d just stay for the one . . .’ He looks down at his watch, then casts his eyes over to Luis and the lads at the bar.
‘What are you drinking?’ I ask, just out of curiosity.
‘Water,’ he replies, holding it up. ‘Got to keep my fluids up in this heat.’
‘It was like, 70 per cent humidity today, wasn’t it?’ I grimace.
‘Something like that,’ he replies.
‘Do you ever drink alcohol?’ Holly chips in.
He grins. ‘Sometimes.’
‘Just champagne on the podium?’ I ask, then inwardly cringe when I remember Alberta said a similar thing to Luis in Melbourne last week.
‘I might pop to the bar after all,’ Holly interrupts, distracting Will from the look of mortification on my face.
‘I’ll go.’ Will joins Holly on her feet, but Holly shoots him down.
‘No, I will,’ she insists. ‘I’m a feminist. I don’t like men to buy me drinks.’
Which is utter rubbish, but it does the trick.
Will settles himself back in his seat. An awkward silence ensues where I’m completely lost for words, but finally he speaks.
‘You’re not staying at our hotel, are you?’
‘No,’ I reply. ‘I will be in Bahrain, though.’
‘Cool.’
Why is it cool? Do you want me there? Why?
Girlfriend, Daisy, remember his girlfriend!
‘Is your. . . Laura coming out this weekend?’ Her name almost sticks on my tongue, but I manage to say it.
‘No, she’s attending some do in London.’
‘A charity event?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Do you miss her?’
‘Course.’ He eyes me steadily. ‘It’s been like this for years, though, so we’re pretty used to it.’
I look away uncomfortably.
‘Have you got a boyfriend?’ he asks offhandedly.
‘Er, no, not me.’
‘Really?’ He looks surprised.
‘Why? Should I?’ Did
that sound too defensive?
‘Not if you don’t want one, no.’
‘I mean, I could get one if I wanted one . . .’
‘I’m sure you could.’ He sounds amused.
‘But I don’t want one.’ Will you shut up, Daisy?
‘Fair enough.’ He glances at his watch again. Cazzo, I’m really messing this up.
‘Do your parents come to many races?’ I ask quickly. I don’t want to do small talk. There’s not enough time.
‘No. They don’t.’ His reply is blunt.
‘Why is that?’ I so want to get to the bottom of him . . .
He rests his heel up on the edge of his chair and casually wraps one arm around his knee. When he doesn’t immediately answer, I start to regret my line of questioning, but then he speaks.
‘We’re not that close.’ He rubs away some of the condensation that has formed on the outside of his glass.
‘Has it always been like that?’ I swivel to face him, willing him to look at me.
‘Pretty much,’ he replies, glancing my way. ‘Ever since I was a kid and they sent me off to boarding school.’ He pauses. ‘Aah, there were moments . . .’ His voice trails off.
‘Like what?’ I prompt.
‘Oh, I was just remembering how one of our horses broke free and almost trampled me when I was very little. My mother was nice to me, then.’ I hold my breath because I can’t believe he’s opening up to me about this. But then his voice hardens. ‘On the whole, though, she kept me at a distance. My father has always done that.’ He takes a sip of his water.
‘That’s sad,’ I murmur, staring at him.
‘It’s okay,’ he says flippantly, putting his foot back down on the floor. ‘You come to terms with it.’
‘No, you don’t,’ I reply firmly. ‘You never come to terms with it.’
He meets my eyes for a long moment. The hurt on his face is hurting me too, but I can’t look away. ‘They must be proud of you now,’ I say hurriedly. I want to make it better.
His expression turns to confusion and he shakes his head slightly then turns away and laughs a brittle laugh. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you this.’
I fall silent. He looks over at the bar again. ‘I should hunt out Luis.’ He starts to get up.
‘He’s probably picked up a screwdriver somewhere,’ I say bluntly.
Will chuckles. ‘I’ll tell him you said that.’
‘No, don’t,’ I plead. ‘He hates me enough as it is.’
He smiles, clearly thinking I’m joking. ‘Are you coming?’ he asks, pointing towards the bar. ‘I don’t want to leave you here on your own.’
I look over and spot Holly doing shots with Pete.
‘Sure.’ Holly has left her handbag on her chair so I pick it up and we go to join the team.
‘Daisy!’ Dan shouts. ‘Come and do a shot with us!’
‘I’ve got to be up in a few hours!’ I laugh. ‘So do you for that matter.’
‘Where’s Will?’ Holly yells.
Where is Will, actually?
I look around frantically, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I feel out of it, separated from the crowd. If Will’s not here, I don’t want to be here. Where is he? Has he really—
‘He’s gone.’ Luis interrupts my thoughts and it’s like a shotgun has gone off in my head.
I don’t look at him.
‘It’s alright, bun tart, you’ll see him tomorrow.’
‘STOP CALLING ME THAT!’ I shout at the top of my voice. Everyone turns to look at me.
‘Daisy!’ Holly jumps in surprise.
‘That’s it, I’m off!’ And with a look that could surely kill everyone around me, I storm out of the room.
Chapter 5
Luis appears first for breakfast. I refuse to look at him so Holly takes over.
‘What can I get you?’ she asks warmly.
‘Muesli. And a couple of hash browns.’
Nice, healthy mix there, Luis. I don’t vocalise my thoughts.
‘Coffee? Juice? Shake?’ Holly enquires.
‘Juice. Thanks.’
And that’s it. He walks off. I watch his departing back with confusion.
‘What?’ Holly asks me.
‘He didn’t say anything to me.’
‘Are you surprised after the way you spoke to him last night?’
Hmm. I go into the kitchen to bring out some more toast and have a quick tidy up and when I return, Will is walking away from the serving table. I look after him in dismay. Holly, thankfully, doesn’t make a point of noticing.
The next time I see him is after I’ve clawed my way through the humidity to get to the pits. I have to stock up the food supplies for the team members too busy to take a break. There’s a drivers’ room in the garages at Kuala Lumpur’s Sepang circuit and as I’m about to return to the hospitality area, Will comes out of it, wearing his racing overalls.
‘Good time last night?’
‘Great!’ Until you did your disappearing act, that is. ‘All set for qualifying?’ I ask the obvious question.
‘Yep.’ He pats the helmet under his arm.
‘Good.’ What else to say, what else to say?
At that moment Luis emerges from the drivers’ room behind him. He glances in our direction, but quickly looks away again, heading over to his car on the other side of the garage. My eyes follow him distractedly.
‘Catch you later,’ I hear Will say.
I quickly return my attention to him. ‘Of course, yes. Good luck!’
He doesn’t reply and I hurry back through the outside heat to the blissfully air-conditioned hospitality area, heart pounding ever so slightly faster than it was before.
In Melbourne, Will and Luis qualified on the front row of the grid, a result which surprised everyone in the industry. So all eyes are on our team today. Can Will swipe pole position again? Will Luis beat him to it?
Luis does end up in the running for pole, but against another driver, Nils Broden from Sweden. Luis comes second in the end, followed by Kit Bryson in third, while Will only just manages to pull fourth out of the bag. It’s still a good result, but not good enough for Will it seems. He leaves the track early on Saturday afternoon, while Luis sits around, happily chatting to the sponsors in the hospitality area.
Holly and I don’t go out that night. Her hangover is still raging inside her head so she persuades me to stay in our hotel room and watch a movie. I don’t take much persuading, to be honest. I know Will won’t be out on the town again and I’m quite happy to avoid Luis or any teasing that might come, probably quite rightly, from the mechanics.
The Malaysian Grand Prix the following day passes by with barely any incidents. Will has a good start, managing to overtake Kit Bryson to nab third place, while Luis keeps his second-place position, and this is pretty much how it stays until the end. With both drivers taking home trophies, we’re once again the centre of attention. But Luis is the driver most people are talking about. He now leads the championship – an impressive feat for someone in his first ever season. Will, on the other hand, has been in Formula 1 for two years and is yet to win a race.
I wonder how he feels seeing team boss Simon give Luis a pat on the back following the press conference. Even I feel quite bizarrely like I want to congratulate Luis, but he’s always surrounded by people, and I’m too afraid he might snub me after my behaviour on Friday night.
Early that evening as we’re well into the swing of tidy-up mode, I come out of the kitchen to see Simon chatting to the team’s technical and financial directors. Will and Luis are talking behind him, with Will making swerving motions with his hands as though describing a manoeuvre he made during the race.
Simon turns around and sees me. ‘Ah, Daisy. We’re off, now.’
I presume he means to Bahrain. It’s two weeks until the next race, but the drivers once again need to acclimatise themselves to the hot conditions.
‘Did you speak to Ally?’
He’s talking about
his PA.
‘Yes, I did. She managed to switch my hotel.’ I’m aware that Will and Luis have finished their conversation and are now listening to this exchange. It’s making me nervous.
‘And when do you arrive?’
‘Um, on the Wednesday before the race. Is that okay?’
‘Not really, no. I think we’ll need you out there before then. Does that interfere with your plans?’ His tone is brusque.
It does, actually. Holly and I were going to Langkawi this week.
‘When were you thinking?’ I ask, my heart sinking as the image of us drinking cocktails together on white, sandy beaches slips away.
‘Later this week would be better.’
‘Okay,’ I reply a touch hesitantly. At least I’ll be able to spend a couple of days with my friend. ‘I’ll speak to Ally again.’
‘Good.’
Still, she’s not going to be pleased. But as Will flashes me a smile, suddenly Holly is no longer at the forefront of my thoughts.
Chapter 6
That’s it, I am officially bored. Don’t get me wrong, it is beautiful here. Warm, sunny days . . . A five-star hotel overlooking the sparkling waters of Manama Bay . . . Our own private beach and palm trees aplenty by a stunning outdoor pool. I know I should-n’t complain, but dammit! I miss Holly!
I flew in straight from Kuala Lumpur and instead of the usual fun I’d have on the plane in business class luxury with my pal, I had to sit next to Frederick. Holly and I spend most of our flights gossiping and knocking back free drinks, but my boss slept most of the way and I could hear his snores even through my head-phones. Aeroplane films just don’t have the same impact when the sound of a chainsaw is going off in the background.
At first I didn’t realise Frederick was coming too, and since I’ve been here, my days have been spent with him, preparing the drivers’ and core crew members’ meals in the penthouse suite of our über posh hotel, after which I scuttle back down to my room a couple of floors below. Will and Luis, on the other hand, spend the majority of their time with their personal trainers, Tarquin and João – Luis flew João in from Brazil on Simon’s insistence.
I’ve barely seen Will. Luis is being mildly pleasant, but on the whole acts like I don’t exist, and I’m sick to death of Catalina’s demands. In fact, anyone would think I’m her slave. ‘Get this! Get that! I need water! WATER!’