At the resulting chorus of wolf whistles and cat calls that ran round the ward and comments such as ‘you can come and be grateful to me too if you like’, I found out why this was known as the ‘biker ward’. Alerted to the untoward goings on by the general hilarity, a hatchet faced nurse, no doubt specifically recruited to keep everything under control round here, appeared by the bed. She eyed me with disfavour.
“Time for you to leave.” She very deliberately leaned over Pete and pulled him sharply forward, ostensibly to puff up his pillows, but her needle sharp eyes were quartering the snowy sheets behind him. I stared fixedly at the place where the miniature had been, then caught Pete’s eye. He grinned conspiratorially at me. Looked like he was ahead of the game.
Jo rang just as I was dropping off again. Boy, she kept late hours.
“Have you been giving Pete head behind the workshop?” She said abruptly.
“Don’t be disgusting, Jo,” I protested. I assumed she was joking.
“Well I can’t think of any other reason for it. He never lets anyone else even breathe on his precious car.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that Jo might be less than happy with Pete’s decision.
I sat up in bed in the dark. “You sound angry.”
“I know you were open about the fact that you were aiming to drive, but I didn’t expect you to become the competition within a few weeks of joining us.”
“I didn’t arrange for Pete to smash his leg up, Jo,” I said reasonably, though her bad reaction made me feel a bit like I’d been kicked in the stomach. “And I never asked him to use the car, honestly, I was as taken aback as you are when he suggested it.”
There was a short silence at the other end. I held my breath.
“Pete said that I’d had opportunities to drive since I was ten, and you had no-one to help you, and he didn’t see why we shouldn’t give you a leg-up.”
“See, Jo, he said ‘leg-up’ not ‘leg-over’.” I was trying to lighten things up with a joke but the icy response the other end showed I’d misjudged it.
“I’m not going to become competition for you for years yet,” I pointed out, desperately trying to retrieve things. “You’ve been driving all these years and-”
“-and am completely mediocre,” she interrupted bitterly. “And now my older brother seems to have spotted someone he believes in more than me.”
“Oh Jo, I’m sure it’s not like that. He just doesn’t want to see a good machine to go to waste for the rest of the year…”
Her voice sounded dull. “Well, maybe he’s right. If I can’t make it then maybe I should step back and let someone else have a go.”
“I’m not going to be using your car, Jo,” I pointed out. “You’re not having to step back. Your season’s going right on ahead as planned.”
“Ok,” she said heavily as though I hadn’t spoken. “See you here tomorrow night. We’ll spend an hour getting you used to driving on the test circuit, then we’ll start beating the dent out of my bonnet.”
And she rang off. I lay back in bed, unable now to fall asleep. My stomach churned with excitement at the expectation of my first go behind the wheel, and my mind kept milling around the worry that my new friendship with Jo was already getting rocky. She was taking this a bit personally. Finally I got out of bed and went over to the computer and started clicking on every YouTube film of every F2 race I could find.
So yet another night passed without my contacting Rajesh. Partly I was just putting it off because I couldn’t think of what to do and I had a feeling that Rajesh would prove a bit useless at coming up with ideas of his own. I felt I had to make a decisive strike. But I didn’t know how.
Jo was better with me than I had expected. She seemed to have shaken off her initial reaction and got used to the idea. And I knew I was lucky that I was getting to use the test track to get the feel of the handling of the vehicle before my first race. I’d got the impression that Quinn had just been thrown in at the deep end and expected to work it out for himself.
Around midday on Thursday I heard my phone beep. I snuck a look at it. It came from Beth and said, I HATE YOU! HOW COULD YOU? YOU TRAITOR!
Blimey! What on earth could I have done to cause Beth to have that reaction to me? I walked away from the men and rang her straight back.
“Hi Beth!”
“Oh, hi Eve!” She sounded quite normal and a bit surprised.
“Why did you just send me a text saying you hate me?” I queried.
She sounded blank. “I haven’t.” Then there was a moment’s pause while she computed something. “That must have been Nasim. She asked to borrow my phone. But I’ve no idea why she hates you!”
“Ok Beth,” I thought I’d better take this seriously and get it sorted pronto. “Is she anywhere within reach? Can you put her on the phone to me?”
Finally Nasim’s voice was at the other end. “You absolute traitor! One of Raj’s nieces told me! Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
“Calm down Nasim,” I said calmly. “What did she tell you?”
“That you’re going out with Rajesh of course!” There was a sob in her voice.
“She was at the wedding was she?” I divined.
“Yes she was, so you can’t deny it, Eve!”
“Well yes, I was at the wedding Nasim,” I laid out patiently. “But no, I’m not going out with him. He’s still nuts about you and he’s trying to work out how to get back with you and persuade his family to accept it. But in the meanwhile he asked me to pretend to be going out with him and come to the wedding so he can divert their attention from going on about you while he decides what to do.” I crossed my fingers behind me for a moment. I wasn’t one hundred percent certain that Rajesh had the gumption to do anything constructive about Nasim at all.
She sniffled somewhat but appeared to be listening. Mind you, I wouldn’t blame her if she wasn’t completely convinced. What sort of mixed message was it that he so much wanted to get back with her that he was pretending to have another girlfriend?
“He just comes to see me occasionally to talk about how wonderful you are and how he wishes he’d had a bit more backbone when he had the chance…”
“Well it’s a bit late for him to say that now!” She said bitterly.
That was more promising. “Look Naz, honestly, I’m looking out for you. Rajesh still adores you.” I thought I’d better just check something before I put my back into this. “You do still love him don’t you? Tell me now if you don’t and I’ll let him down gently for you.”
That set off the sniffles again. “Yes I do,” she wept. “I love him unbearably! He’s all I ever think about…”
I held the phone away from my ear for a moment. Nauseating or what? You know what. I really didn’t love Quinn did I? Or I’d be in complete melt down right now. Nope. I was still that hard hearted cow who’d never been in love. I sighed. What was wrong with me?
I rang Rajesh that night. “I’ve decided what we’re going to do.”
“What?” He ventured cautiously.
“We’re going to kidnap Sahmir. On Monday.”
“What?”
“It’s the only thing left to do. I tried confronting Jamie, but he’s not spilling any beans.”
“And how will kidnapping her brother and beating the crap out of him endear me to Nasim?”
“We won’t be beating the crap out of him. He’s a cowardly little toe-rag – you know that! A few threats and he’ll be singing like a canary.”
“Oh my god,” Rajesh groaned. “Pl-e-e-a-se tell me you’re kidding me about this. Pl-e-e-a-se tell me I’m about to wake up from a nightmare!”
“For goodness sake, Rajesh,” I enunciated. “Have some backbone for once! I’ll ring you on Monday to tell you what I’ve worked out. Unless by then you’ve come up with some better plan. You don’t happen to know where we can borrow a van from do you?”
On Friday, as I backed out of our driveway to make my way to Lyndale, I gnashed
my teeth. There it was. His new bike. Second hand Kawasaki ZXR400cc. Flash luminous green and white. Insurance group 12, so he was thinking ahead about affordability.
At Lyndale, when I was met by Bobby rubbing his knuckles enthusiastically together and saying, “What have you got for me today, E-e-e-ve?” I responded gloomily, “Kawasaki ZXR400, 398cc, 62bhp, 139mph, 160kg.”
“Oooo, n-i-i-ice, E-e-e-ve!” He rolled his eyes in appreciation.
“Yes, I know,” I said grumpily, and stomped off inside. Still at least I had my Sheffield card up my sleeve. Wait till Quinn saw me at the start line! He’d be green with envy when he realised I wasn’t just bull shitting him.
I turned back to Bobby. “Hey Bobb-e-e-e! Guess what I’m going to be doing at the weekend?”
“Well has it arrived?” She demanded as I hurried into the barn straight from work on Saturday afternoon.
I gave her the thumbs up from a distance.
“Thank God for that!”
Everything had depended on my licence arriving back in this morning’s post. We’d downloaded the application form immediately and I’d filled it in, bullocked Dad into signing it when he wasn’t really listening, written the cheque for over £100 (ouch), put in the truly embarrassing passport sized photos, and Jo had rung up the office in Dorset to plead with them to send it back straight away.
Now we had my driver’s number we had to replace Pete’s with mine and soon we were spraying the roof white. Jo had had to go out specially to buy it.
“We’ve not had to use this colour in our family since I was ten,” Jo said with a turned down mouth, and I felt like a really unwelcome late starter.
Buxton had been tarmac, Sheffield was shale. But we’d already made the necessary adjustments to Pete’s car before he had the accident. She’d already sorted me out a transponder for lapscoring. And now we tried all her old fire retardant overalls on me, finding that the only ones that fitted me without looking ridiculous were the set she’d discarded when she was fourteen. She pursed her lips as though it pissed her off that I was more slightly built than her. A regulation helmet, harness, gloves and fire retardant balaclava which she’d kindly bought me new as a good luck present completed the kit with the boots. I felt like an astronaut.
“We need to make sure everything is spot on, and still in good condition as the protective clothing goes through scrutineering as well as the vehicle,” she explained with a frown as she looked me up and down.
I began to realise just how much work this all was for her and had a bit more sympathy for her being pissed off at her brother for dumping this huge organisational and mentoring role on her without even consulting her when he himself couldn’t help out with a thing.
Finally she made me hurl the car round their dirt track over and over and practice cornering. Though not as violently as I would need to do in a race as we couldn’t risk having to do any other last minute repairs.
I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. But I was so knackered I slept really well, and woke with that Christmas morning feeling when you’re five and can’t wait to get to the stocking at the bottom of your bed.
We’d set off early, with her father driving. He’d retired from the circuit but claimed to me that he was happy enough to relive his glory days through his children.
“Did Jo’s mum used to race as well?” I asked him, as way of making conversation. Then I froze. I suddenly realised I had never even as much as glimpsed Jo’s mother, we never went into the house, and Jo’d never ever mentioned her. Was she dead or buggered off?
But neither of them reacted. “Nah,” he said casually.
“Her thing’s horses,” Jo said.
“Horses?”
Jo raised her eyebrows at me. “Haven’t you ever noticed them? She trains horses for dressage.”
“Dressage?” I echoed blankly. “What’s that?”
“Horse dancing,” Jo said with a slight snort.
I wasn’t sure if she was just twitting me so I didn’t dare ask any more. But yes, I had seen various horses in outlying fields but if I’d thought about it at all – and I’m not the world’s most observant when it comes to furry creatures – I’d have assumed they belonged to some farmer beyond their boundaries. I’d gone no further than the old barn that was now a major mechanics set up, and the field they’d turned into a mini oval and had thought that was the extent of the property.
“We have two very expensive hobbies,” Jo’s dad commented ruefully.
“Though Mum makes a living out of hers,” Jo defended.
“Just,” Paul said dryly. “We’d never have paid the mortgage off on it.”
Disclaimer forms signed. Scrutineering over with. I had one other urgent mission to complete before my first race.
I finally found Rob’s team complete with Dan and Tolly, but no Quinn. “Where’s Quinn?” I asked.
“He’s off on his tour of Germany,” Rob answered without looking round at me.
I felt a rage of emotions. Gutted that Quinn wasn’t there to see my triumph. Relieved that I could complete my first ever races without his critical eyes upon me. Jealous and angry that he’d gone off to Germany without me. Relieved that he hadn’t gone off to Germany with the alcohol quaffing Rob. Worried that he’d gone off to Germany on a bike he’d only had for twenty four hours and was presumably intending to thrash to its limits on roads with no speed limits.
Rob finally glanced up and took in my race gear. “I didn’t know you were a driver.”
I shrugged as casually as I could manage. “F2. Just a novice right now.”
He nodded and went back to what he was doing, seemingly uninterested. But as I walked away I glanced back and caught him watching my retreat out of the corner of his eyes.
The start of my first race couldn’t come too soon to stop me feeling sweaty palmed and sick. Paul and Jo were piling the advice on and testing me on my knowledge of what all the coloured flags meant. Jo had been put in the other heat to me. I was secretly relieved as I didn’t want to race against her.
“They’re not supposed to bump you with your novice black cross up,” Jo reminded me. “But they might do, so be prepared for it. But if they do it too obviously they’ll get reprimanded for it.”
As I sat at the wheel at the very back of the rolling start with one other complete novice where we’d be well out of trouble until the better drivers started lapping us, I figured that one of my hidden weapons in this first ever race was that I was completely anonymous. No-one knew who I was or even cared. No-one would have noticed that I was female.
I tried really hard, and I got the hang of the corners and the shale flying up and the other vehicles flying by, and the scream of engines and taste of dirt in my mouth and stink of fumes, and no one hit me. But I finished way towards the back. Behind me was only a yellow top that had crashed out but managed to get back into the race and two whites, one of them the other novice.
By the time I got back in, Jo had gone off for her race, so there was only Paul to give me feedback. He was kind, but I felt angry with myself. I’d been driving like I had back on their farm. Like I didn’t want to get a scratch on the car. I absolutely had to get more aggression into it.
“You’ve got the Last Chance Consolation Race to have another go,” Paul reminded me.
Jo qualified in her first heat for the Final. I congratulated her and listened meekly to her strictures on my first attempt. Inside I felt steely determination rising up inside me. Pete had believed in me enough to bestow his precious car on me, so now I had to reward him with some results.
I watched out for Rob in his race. I saw him arguing with a marshal which isn’t the done thing at all, but whatever it was got resolved and he took up his position fairly close to the back which meant he was doing well in the rankings at the mo, and he finished close to the front.
Jo made me force down some coffee and a mars bar as I’d been too worked up to eat anything. And then I was off again in the Consolation.
As I drove the car back to the pits after the race at the proscribed 5mph, my hands were shaking with the adrenaline, and I was trying hard to wipe the huge smile off my face before I got back to Jo and her dad.
Jo opened my door and leant in. “I find that very hard to believe, Eve. How did you manage that?”
Paul had a big grin on his craggy face. “I’ve just texted Pete. Overall fifth in your second ever race and right from the back too! I never expected you to qualify for the final.”
“It was because everyone was giving her an easy time,” Jo pointed out. She turned back to me. “Don’t expect such an easy race in the final. The others are going to feel a bit conned by your black cross and now they’ll make you pay for it big time.”
As I span out on the seventh circuit and slammed into the barriers facing the wrong way after the eighth hard shove from passing vehicles I knew she was right. They were teaching me a lesson. If I had the temerity to take such advantage of the novice status as to come in at the front, then I needed to be given a dose of reality. I wrenched the wheel round and set off when it was safe to do so, but the best I could manage with this disastrous loss of time was to catch up with the tail enders and keep my car on track as a few more yellow and blue tops took their sport with me. I came in last, but only by half a second.
“Told you,” Jo said as she took her helmet off. She’d been somewhere in the middle of the pack throughout.
“Still, you’ve done fine for your first attempt,” Paul comforted. “If you can keep this up, you might do alright for yourself.”
I felt a teeny bit deflated and so as not to show it, offered to go to the burger van for us all. Standing in the queue, I spotted Rob striding past and waved. He changed direction and came over. “Was that you near the front of the Consolation?” He inquired.
“Yup.”
“How long have you been driving?”
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