Nish turned the key in the ignition and drove us away. I flopped back in my seat and exclaimed, “Phew! Thank God for that! Thanks Nish…”
He smiled, and concentrated on negotiating us out of the maze of streets.
“So I hear that you’re now my official race engineer,” he remarked once we were out onto a main arterial road. He glanced sideways at me. “Congratulations!”
I looked intently at his face to try to discern his expression in the semi-dark. “Do you mind? Did they ask you for your opinion?”
“They rang me up and asked me if I had anything to add to the statement I’d made in my interview to Sky,” he reported. “And I said no, I had complete confidence in you, and they said that was all they needed to know.”
Phew, that was nice to hear. I hadn’t realised that he had turned around so much in his opinion of me.
“I hadn’t realised what was going on with Chris,” Nish ventured. “until the rather public take-over bid you made – “
“Over-take bid,” I corrected.
“Take-over bid,” he insisted firmly. “And then I finally got told about the tussle you were having. I guess they thought it would be better if I didn’t know about the internal politics of the race engineers department, so I wouldn’t be worrying about what was going on behind the scenes while I was out on the track. Royce told me about it after that Sky reporter caught me out in that interview. But then it all made sense. I’d never realised that you were being told exactly what to say over the radio by Chris, but it hadn’t ever quite added up. I know what sort of instructions you’d be likely to give, and you just weren’t giving them. And the timing wasn’t right either. You’d say something and I’d think, Eve knows I wouldn’t do that there, so why’s she saying that? And then when you chimed in with your Posh Boy remark and Chris started trying to stop you, I knew this was the real you and I absolutely knew you were right, and it gave me the confidence to just go for it.”
“So you think the pair of us, left to ourselves, will have a different dynamic?” I mused.
“No doubt about it,” he stated confidently. “And I’m looking forward to it. You’re not one for keeping things safe, and neither am I. I want to push it all the time.”
“Good,” I said. I was silent for a moment. “You know you can’t get to be World Champion at Williams, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But you have to start out somewhere and Williams are at the top of the lower orders. And they’re a brilliant independent team to work with, and a good fit with me being the local lad and all that. It’s been good for both me and Williams to work that ‘local’ vibe and they’ve been fantastically kind to me while I’ve been ill. Most of the other teams would have sacked me off and I’d have missed my chance.”
“Ok,” I said slowly. “So what I’ll be aiming to do with you, while you’re still driving for Williams, is to develop your skills and judgement, and showcase you…”
He grinned sideways at me, “Pimp me out?”
“Yeah, exactly that,” I agreed. “We’re going to let Mercedes and Ferrari and Red Bull see just how good you are and let them speculate on just how much better you could be in a top of the range car. And then you need to be keeping a weather eye out on which team looks to be top of the tree the year you’re ready to move on, and get a foot in the door with them.”
“That’ll be Royce’s job,” Nish replied. “That’s what I pay him for.”
“And you have to employ Niall yourself too, don’t you?” I clarified.
“Yeah, and he’s bloody expensive too,” Nish complained. “He’s a great package though – three roles in one – qualified sports physio, nutritionist and personal trainer. But sometimes I just feel like I’m paying someone through the nose to torture me… but hey, now I’m having some time out. They rang me up on Monday evening and ordered me to give Niall some enforced holiday and banned me from doing any extreme exercise for at least three weeks…”
I smiled to myself. Heskett must have passed my advice on pronto.
We were silent for a time, heading back down the motorway now.
“Do you think I’m ever going to enjoy being on the podium without my dad there to see it?” He said at last in despairing tones.
I sighed. “The first time is the worst,” I comforted. “But you’ll get used to it.” It would help if his mother would take over the role of looking like she was proud of him and following his career. At least if she turned up to the occasional fixture to cheer him on and beam at him at the ceremony, he’d feel like his family were behind him. You’d have thought she and Sappho would have at least made the effort to get to Silverstone. But then, she’d be grieving too, I guess. Maybe she couldn’t face it right now.
“Being Japanese, Miriam has a bit of a bent towards ancestor worship,” Nish confided. “She talks like Dad’s watching over me and orchestrated that podium finish especially for me somehow, and I don’t want to upset her, but I just can’t think in those terms…”
“God, no,” I agreed robustly. “Please don’t! All your podiums are completely in your own hands. Don’t start getting superstitious and attributing them to some sort of divine intervention.”
We were silent again.
“They tried to do that one on me too,” I remarked suddenly. “Your mother’s looking down on you… and whenever I did anything good they’d tell me that she’d be proud of me. But what they didn’t seem to realise was that by the same token, whenever I did anything bad I was paranoid that she was constantly watching me in a state of acute disappointment. And it made me almost ill at one stage. Terrified of doing anything at all because I thought this invisible woman was watching me on the toilet, or seeing me stealing sweets from the cupboard or knowing I was lying, or being mean to Quinn…”
“I didn’t know your mother was dead,” Nish commented in surprised tones.
“Yeah. Died in a bad car accident when I was six,” I explained. “So over the years I’ve just had to come to terms with all the crap talked about death. I’ve come to the conclusion that once they’re dead, they’re either nowhere, so nothing matters to them any more anyway, or if the Christians are to be believed, and you read what they actually say properly instead of indulging in this sentimental form of popular spiritualism, then the dead are with God in a happy place. And if that’s true then they’ll be trusting in God to look after their loved ones and sort things out on their behalf, so they don’t need to know what’s going on back here. So either way they’re not floating around spying on us. It’s just a weak kind of comfort to offer someone who wishes a relative could have seen something. You’ll notice they never say it when something bad has happened…”
Nish glanced oddly at me. “I didn’t know you thought about philosophical stuff like that.”
“Just cos I don’t know about a bear with a dumb name, doesn’t mean I’m an idiot,” I pointed out irascibly.
“Yeah, ok, point taken,” Nish responded hastily. “Sorry,” he added, showing that’s exactly the assumption he’d made.
He walked me chivalrously back into my flat and looked around in an appalled way. “What the hell’s happened here? Have you been broken into again?” He was staring around at the shards of crockery sprayed in all directions round the room.
I laughed. “No, those are just all the plates and cups that I threw at Quinn’s head when he waltzed in here earlier today.”
Nish turned his stare on me.
“Don’t worry, he’s fine!” I assured him. “He had a lot of practice ducking his mother’s missiles while he was growing up. She had a fine aim when she was well. I used to think she was a bit mean, but now I’m finding out why she took so much satisfaction at aiming plates at his head!” I started to kick off my shoes but Nish protested that I should be careful of my bare feet on the sharp broken pieces. He was looking worriedly at the dried out pools of blood on the floor. “Yours or his?” He enquired.
“Both,” I admitted, and held up th
e palm of my hand for him to see the jagged raw red line across it.
“No wonder he abandoned you at the party and made shift to avoid coming back here with you!” Nish exclaimed. “I’m beginning to have some sympathy with the guy!”
I jerked my head meaningfully at kitchen surface. “I’ve still got a couple of intact mugs and bowls over there if you don’t shut up, and my aim’s not half bad…” I warned with an evil glint in my eye.
Suddenly, he too, had somewhere else to be in double quick time.
I gave up on my intention to drive up north on Friday, had a lie in and a rest, and met Jo at the Hednesford Raceway on the Saturday instead. I’d suddenly realised that if I did that, we could chuck my bike in the back of the Beast afterwards and save me hours of driving.
I drove my bike into the pit area and spotted the Beast straight away as we’d arranged to meet up in plenty of time to iron out any problems. Tony, Jo and Paul all turned round wreathed in smiles and I squealed and ran at them each in turn, hugging and kissing them. Then I turned round to find Rob there and threw myself at him too, and then Horrocks made his way over with the now not so little Harry in tow.
“So go on then,” Rob prompted. “We’re all waiting agog to hear the outcome…”
I stared at him. “The outcome of what?” I echoed blankly.
“The outcome of ‘PoshBoyGate’ of course,” he said with a wry laugh.
“Oh that…” I rolled my eyes. “That seems like ages ago now. Basically Chris threw his toys out the pram and said it was him or me, and they chose me. So I’m now promoted to Nish’s race engineer.”
There were general congratulations all round and I saw Jo exchange a glance with her dad, who smiled at her, as though he’d predicted this.
“So are we going to see a bit more action for the rest of the season?” Rob asked slyly.
I tossed my head. “If you think you can trick me into giving away our strategies…”
He pulled a face at me.
“Well, let’s just put it this way,” I said with a slow smile at him. “The other teams are going to have to be watching out in their mirrors because I’m letting him off the leash.”
“Has he been on a leash?” Jo asked curiously.
“Oh, yes,” I asserted. “Chris has had him bound and gagged and muzzled and strangled,” I exaggerated, grabbing my own throat in demonstration. “But don’t any of you dare quote me on that!” I warned. I looked around dramatically. “Now lead me to a car, for God’s sake! It’s been so frustrating watching everyone behind a wheel except me!”
“How long has it been, Eve?” Tony asked.
“Last September – the World Championship,” I informed him. I looked over at Tyler’s old car, now returned to a red roof. “And I don’t even have to start at the back anymore!” I crowed delightedly. “That’s your dubious privilege now, Horrocks!” I gave him a playful shove and he grinned. Harry crossly gave me a hard shove back in defence of his father. I bounced over to my car and gave it a big kiss. “Watch your backs, folks! Seven Six Eight is back on the track!”
“Do you think she’s on something?” Jo observed dryly to her dad as the others melted away.
I hopped into the cab and started revving and revving the engine while cackling maniacally.
“Oh my God,” Jo announced to the others. “I’d forgotten how truly mental she is…”
We were able to stay overnight in the Beast because it was a convenient two day fixture at Hednesford. It felt a bit awkward for me, because previously I’d only known Tony as a work colleague, and now we all had to doss down together. Next day I watched him watching Jo as she worked on one of the cars. Oh shit, I thought.
“Tony?” I broached once she’d walked away to talk to someone from another team. “You did google the term ‘asexual’ when I told you to, didn’t you?”
A slow tide of red swept up his face from neck to forehead.
I looked closely at him. “Have you talked to her about it?”
He shook his head.
“Do you want me to?” I offered.
He hesitated.
“Actually,” I decided aloud. “I’m going to talk to her about it whether you want me to or not. I can’t see how any normal male could survive a relationship without sex, so you have to know whether it’s on the cards or not. And if it is,” I warned him. “It won’t ever be passionate on her side because she just can’t, even if she loves you. So you’ll have to decide if you can cope with that, and whether you can manage to not take it personally.”
Tony began to blink nervously behind his glasses, which reminded me that I once used to think he looked a bit like Horrocks. But now I’d seen them both together, I realised it was more of a likeness in personality than one of physical appearance.
I caught Jo on her own when we went off to the loos together. I diverted her into a queue to get some coffee then sat her down in the stands away from anyone else. She was a blunt sort of girl, so I figured I’d just lay it out to her.
“Tony’s in love with you,” I informed her.
Her eyes widened and the coffee cup jerked in her hand, spilling over her jeans. She swore and held the cup away from her. But her cheeks had gone red.
“So what are his chances?” I asked outright.
She stared at me, biting her bottom lip.
“I mean – if you’re at all interested, how will you cope with the sex thing? Could you lie back and think of England for his sake?”
“Eve!” She protested, glancing swiftly around to make sure no-one was near enough to hear us.
I raised my eyebrows at her.
She dropped her gaze, then raised it again. “So you were matchmaking, weren’t you?” She accused.
I shrugged. “I just thought that you and Tony were ideally suited but probably wouldn’t realise it if you just met at work…”
“Are you sure he’s in love with me?” She checked.
I nodded.
She thoughtfully drank some of her coffee then bit a half moon tooth shape into the polystyrene cup and spat out the bits. I figured she’d only meant to leave a pattern, not take a whole bite out of it. Then she glanced sideways at me. “I can’t say for sure. I’m a bit shocked. I’m not against the idea. But…” she hesitated. “I can’t promise anything so early on though. I’d have to see how it went. I wouldn’t want him to get hurt.”
Later, I reported back to Tony. “She’s not against the idea, but can’t promise anything for sure, so I’d just go for it and see what happens…”
His colour fluctuated swiftly, but then he ducked his head and smiled. So I reckoned he was going to go for it.
Back at Grove during the last week in August I had a session with Nish on the simulator, running first through the Belgian track and then the Italian track. We were heading for a couple of exhausting back to back race weekends to wrap up the European leg and then we had to turn the cars around for the Asian section.
“What did you get up to over the break?” Nish asked me as he settled into the driver’s seat.
“Won some races, disrupted some points’ tables, and re-designed some cars, how about you?”
“Composed some music, recorded some tracks, punched Quinn a few times…”
“Did you really punch him?” I asked, startled.
Nish grimaced. “No, not really. But I imagined it really vividly more than once. Boy, he’s annoying isn’t he? I’m beginning to see that he might have deserved those plates!”
“Ok,” Mizo interrupted, “Off you go.”
“And did they make Miriam join in?” I queried.
Nish smiled. “Yeah, though she spent the whole time looking like she’d rather just hide behind the sofa. But she’s tremendous at what she does, so as long as she understood exactly what they wanted, she was able to provide it for them.”
“Ok, off you go,” Mizo repeated.
“So did you see that we both made it into ‘Hello!’ magazine?” Nish darted an amused glan
ce back at me. “Photos taken of us at that party…”
“Is that what you meant by ‘Gossip Central’?” I checked.
“Yep,” Nish said in satisfaction. “That should make Quinn sit up and take notice, I’d say!”
“Will you two just shut up and get on with some work!” Mizo shot irritably. “We don’t want to hear your social life over the radio unless you’re auditioning to be chat-show hosts instead of race team members!”
Nish grinned engagingly at Mizo and started the car out of the virtual pit lane while I mulled over his remark about making Quinn sit up and take notice. What was Nish up to?
I dropped into the mechanics’ den to speak to Alan, and the men pounced on me on the way through to his office.
“So what’s all this ‘Gone with the Wind’ stuff, Eve?” They demanded.
“Oh, no, not you lot as well!” I exclaimed, skidding to a halt. “Will someone please tell me what Gone with the Wind is?”
Bill sighed. “You know you’re getting old when the race engineers are so young that they don’t know what Gone with the Wind is!”
“But what is it?” I demanded impatiently.
They started miming to me, opening two hands and rolling one hand against a flat one in front of their face – à la charades.
“Book? Film?” I concluded. “And why are you bringing it up anyway?”
Ben grinned and handed me a glossy magazine open at a page of celebrity photos. On the right hand side there were two of me and Nish. The first had caught us when I was looking up at him as he wiped away my tears with an amused smile on his face. My lips were parted all vulnerable-like as I looked up at him, and my eyes were big and wet with tears. And the second one had been snapped as he was carrying me across the room. He looked all macho and heroic with my arms around his neck and my face turned away from the camera and looking up him. The caption said, Hot new Formula One racing talent Anish Gilbraith comforts his race engineer, though neither of them are revealing why. And then they execute a dramatic exit channelling ‘Gone with the Wind’.
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