The Way Barred

by Dominique Kyle

  He looked as though he didn’t know whether to repress a smile, or be concerned. “Are you sure you’re ok with that Eve?”

  “Do you actually mean, is he taking advantage of me?” I said sharply. “Then no, he isn’t. We discussed it thoroughly and agreed it wouldn’t affect how we raced against each other. And no I’m not shagging him to get him to help me with my car. And that’s precisely why we’re not telling anyone about it. We weren’t doing it back then when he was helping with my car. It’s very recent. And you know what people are like! Even Pete was implying stuff, and it wasn’t true!”

  “Are you doing this to get back at Pete?” He asked bluntly.

  That assumption upset me. I shook my head vigorously. “Paul, I never would have left Pete ever, ever. But for some reason he didn’t want me, so what am I supposed to do? You all kept telling me to get over it. Likened me to a pathetic wounded animal! And the irony is that whoever I go off with will have Pete pointing and saying, look! – proof positive – see I told you she’d go off with someone. But he’s made it so I have no option.” I lowered my eyes. Then I glanced back up again. “He never once told me he loved me you know. So I have to assume that he didn’t and it was just a matter of my being around and convenient. I’ve had to write the whole thing off and put it down to experience.”

  Paul looked as though he was grappling with whether to say something in response or not. In the end he remained silent.

  “So what are you going to do about it?” I asked combatively.

  He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said coolly. “You’re an adult. You’ve a right to live your own life. Just don’t let it affect your racing, that’s all.”

  “Can I go now?” I asked stiffly.

  “I’m not a headmaster, Eve,” he pointed out with a slight smile.

  I ground my teeth and walked sharply away.

  I worked on my car like a demon for the rest of the evening, then drove home to my own flat. Only three meetings into the season and already Paul had sussed it out. I’d better warn Tyler to be more circumspect in public.

  Coventry on Saturday. Shale again. One for Fay. We’d advised her to bring a friend along to help with the driving and keep her company on the long journey. It was even more complicated for us though. While she would be driving home after the meet, the rest of us were carrying on down to Honiton’s Smeatharpe tarmac circuit near Taunton in Devon. Which meant we had to lug four cars around this weekend, and only three would fit in the Beast, and that only at a pinch with the aerofoils and the wheels taken off and absolutely everything else we had to carry with us, such as spare tyres and other equipment, piled up on top. So we packed one of the tarmac cars and equipment for them on the upper tier, and put the other tarmac car at the back of the bottom section with Pete’s shale car and all the shale spares in front. And then Jo and I drove down with my shale car and its spares on a trailer. Then after the Coventry evening, we all drove out to an F2 mate of Paul’s, left the shale cars and Jo’s car and trailer on his land, and Jo and I transferred into the Beast for the long night drive down to Devon. They sent me and Jo to sleep in the back, and Pete did the first driving shift and Paul finished us off while Pete napped.

  There was little to discuss after Coventry. I’d beaten Pete twice, he’d beaten me once. Tyler was there again. He looked wistful when I told him we were going on to Smeatharpe. He’d only brought his shale car with him. I could see from his eyes that he could barely manage not to handle me. “Where can we go for a moment?” He asked urgently.

  “For goodness sake, Tyler, this is not the time to be spotted disappearing into a toilet cubicle together, is it?”

  There we were in the busy thoroughfare of the pits with his team bustling around him and he said loudly, “That’s ok, McGinty, I’m sure I’ve got one somewhere!” And he hopped into his van, jerked his head at me to follow him and when we got inside he jammed something under the latch and pulled me to him. He thoroughly kissed me, unzipped my fireproof overalls, got his hand up my back and unhooked my bra and then buried his face into my breasts. Someone started to waggle at the door handle, shaking it hard when it didn’t come open.

  I pushed Tyler away quickly and started to rehook and zip back up.

  “Wait a sec, I’ve just had to turn everything over in here and I don’t want anything falling out…” Tyler lied loudly. “Fuck it!” he swore under his breath. “I’m so frustrated! To see you every weekend and not be able to touch you – this is cruel torture!” He grabbed something up and shoved it at me. “Here you better look like you’re leaving with something.”

  We emerged quickly, well apart and talking loudly about a red flag controversy that took place at Skegness the week before.

  When I arrived back at my own section of the pits, Paul glanced at what I was holding.

  “What’s that?” He asked with a frown.

  I held it up and shrugged. “No idea Paul. Any ideas? Tyler shoved it at me.”

  He pulled a quirky expression with his eyebrows. “Why?”

  “God Paul, I’ve no idea how I’m going to manage Tyler all season. He’s going mental! He dragged me into his van as I was passing under the pretext of finding some bit of kit for me. One of his team almost immediately needed to get into the van, so he had to let me out again. And now he’s looking like an unhappy dog whose owner is going away on holiday without him as soon as he heard we’re all going on to Smeatharpe and he hasn’t brought his tarmac car along!”

  Paul smiled.

  “Still, that’s good news isn’t it? That he’s not going on to Taunton. Gives me and Pete more of a chance…”

  “Poor Tyler,” Paul commiserated teasingly. “If he could see how your face lit up then when you knew he wasn’t going to be along…”

  “Blah!” I said hard heartedly. “He was the one bleating on about not wanting to get into a serious relationship. So he’s made his bed now…and he’s finding out it means that I don’t get to lie in it with him very often!”

  Paul caught back a laugh as he saw Pete approaching. And I walked quickly away.

  Just before we left and were loading the Beast and the trailer up, Tyler swung past, then stopped with exaggerated casualness.

  “Oh, McGinty, I’m going to be over your way on Monday night.”

  I turned and said, also casually, “Ok, will you be dropping in on us then? We’ll probably be working on the cars.”

  Paul looked ironically at the pair of us. “Ok Tyler, you can stay over with us then.” His tone was inflexible and had an edge to it that brooked no discussion.

  Tyler looked undecidedly at him. “Ok, thanks.” He said eventually. He stood awkwardly for another moment. “Well see you all on Monday night then.”

  As he walked reluctantly away I spotted the object he’d given me lying on the ground. “Oy, Tyler!” I yelled. “Do you want this back?”

  He glanced swiftly back and I jogged down to give it to him. I stood a couple of feet away and tossed it to him. “That sounded remarkably like a summons, don’t you think?” He said wryly to me. “I’m thirty six and I feel like a twenty year old being called in to account for my behaviour!”

  I laughed. “See you on Monday then!” And I turned and walked away.

  Smeatharpe Stadium, Taunton. Pete and I were in separate heats so that was ok. We both won our heats. Paul and Jo were smiling. But the Final didn’t go so well. I did my best to start out with, and got past Pete without tangling with him while he was occupied with an attack from elsewhere but then he came up behind me and did a rather unnecessarily large shove. I hauled myself back in after, managed to get through the three cars that had taken the opportunity to move between me and him, and got by him again while he was dealing with someone else. This time he came up behind me, waited till a corner and deliberately lunged at me so hard that I was cannoned into the car ahead and to my right and rolled over twice, landing fortuitously back on all four wheels again, a bit dizzy, but upright and not enmeshed with any
other car and facing almost the right way. I immediately got the car going again, the engine seemed none the worse for wear, and Pete was only five cars ahead again as a yellow flag came out for a pile up on the far corner. All the cars bunched up and there were plenty of laps still to go. I got through the five cars and bided my time then gave him such a crack at the optimum moment that he was hurled in the air over the car on the outside, rolled twice, ended up on his roof and stayed there. One lap further on and a marshal waved a black flag at me, so I turned off into the infield. Apparently my aerofoil was coming loose and flapping alarmingly in the breeze. I sat in the car brooding darkly while the rest of the race took its course.

  “Right, well since you two have seen fit to trash both your cars, we might as well pack up now and go home,” Paul said in displeased tones. So we set off a couple of hours early. At one point Pete started to say something, but Paul said coldly, “Save it for the team meeting tomorrow night, six pm up at the house.” He glanced in the mirror. “You got that Eve?”

  “Yes,” I said gloomily. After that it was hard to find any conversation and Paul turned the radio up loud. Jo and I were glad to get out at Coventry to retrieve the car and trailer. We shared the driving home.

  “I tried to drive a clean race,” I said defensively to her. “But Pete just kept going for me.”

  “Yes I could see that,” Jo said neutrally.

  “I’m worried about the bollocking we’re going to get tomorrow,” I admitted to Jo.

  She sighed. “Dad needs to sort Pete out. It can’t carry on like this.”

  Next day in our lunch break I went on my tablet to check out Steve the commentator’s blog again. His report of Smeatharpe was already up.

  ‘The enmity between 768 Eve McGinty and 103 Pete Satterthwaite today reached the no holds barred level. When 103 shunted 768 into a big double roll that she miraculously recovered from and got straight back into the chase, a yellow flag enabled her to catch back up with him and get her revenge, resulting in 103 being catapulted over 24 Dave Cox and doing a similar double roll that left 103 trapped helplessly on his roof. A black flag for 768 a lap later, as her car systematically disintegrated, signalled the end of the race for her as well. One can only speculate that Satterthwaite senior will be banging their heads together at their next team meeting. Still it all added to the entertainment for the crowds who love a sense of rivalry on the track.’

  I passed it over to Jo to read. She laughed. “Well Dad certainly needs to bang Pete’s head against something!”

  My stomach was churning as I sat at the kitchen table with Pete and Paul. Jo had been excused. She went out to start working on the cars.

  “So we make a big sacrificial effort, put aside our time to help you two get down to Devon, spend a fortune on diesel, you have a big chance to scoop up some serious points without Tyler in attendance, and you go and trash the whole opportunity by ridiculously unnecessary violence on the track. What do you have to say for yourselves?” Paul sounded justifiably angry.

  There was a long silence.

  “Well? I’m waiting,” Paul said coldly.

  “I’m sorry,” I said in a small voice.

  “Pete?” Paul prompted.

  Pete kept up a stubborn rebellious silence.

  After a minute or two, I filled the silence. “I want to drive a clean race. I’m finding this really stressful. But if Pete insists on attacking me, I have to defend myself. I’m not just going to say, ‘oh dearie me, better let him by then’.”

  “Pete?” Paul said severely.

  Stubborn silence.

  “It seems to me like we’re both trying to win a battle but between us we’re losing the war. If we carry on like this we’ll end up with us both in the fence at most meets and neither of us able to win anything!” I said despairingly. I met Paul’s eyes for the first time in the meeting.

  He was looking sympathetically at me. “I agree Eve. The best way for you both to drive would be to take advantage of each other by teaming up and following each other through and then see what happens towards the end of the race. You need to just be heading through to the front, not messing around in petty infighting. Because if that’s what’s going to happen we might as well finish the season right here and save ourselves a lot of time and money.”

  “For God’s sake, Dad!” Pete said angrily.

  Paul looked severely at him. “You need to lay off Eve, Pete. And that’s an order. Only knock her out the way when it’s absolutely necessary, and even then use the least force possible. The way you’re behaving at the moment is heading for a cycle of destruction, injuries, and probably some kind of disciplinary hearing. Do you hear me Pete?”

  After a short silence, Pete uttered a resentful, “Yes.”

  “So are you agreeing to lay off of Eve?” Paul established.

  There was another short silence. “Yes,” Pete muttered.

  “And Eve?” Paul’s eyes turned enquiringly on me. “Are you agreeing to drive co-operatively with Pete as much as possible?”

  “Yes,” I said, relieved. Paul’s eyes signalled to me not to worry, he was going to sort it out.

  I went out to the car and found Tyler there working on my car with Jo. He shook his head and tut tutted at me.

  “How was the bollocking?” Jo asked with a slight laugh.

  “Nerve wracking,” I said with a grimace.

  “I saw the footage on YouTube,” Tyler informed me, shaking his head in mock sorrow.

  “Well you can be smug now and say ‘I told you so,’ can’t you?” I suggested grumpily.

  “Told you so!” Tyler said promptly, with a grin.

  “My poor car,” I said, kicking it. “I’ll get my Dad up tomorrow shall I Jo?”

  She nodded. “That would be helpful.”

  “You did magnificently coming back from that roll though,” Tyler complimented me. “I was watching the footage with my heart in my mouth, and I admit I gave a bit of a cheer when you stuck it to him so thoroughly!”

  “To be honest Tyler, so did I,” Jo confessed. “I was so bloody angry with him. And I was thinking of all the work we were going to have to get done in only five evenings! I was selfishly pleased when I knew he was now going to have to do the same!”

  “You don’t have to help us, Tyler,” I said feeling guilty. “You can go in and put your feet up if you want. Sue says dinner’s in an hour, Jo.”

  “Oh I don’t mind,” Tyler said cheerfully. “It looks like you could do with a lift.”

  “Where do we start?” I sighed.

  As we worked companionably together on it, I took secret moments to run my hand through his hair or tickle his neck as I leaned over near him, whenever Jo was safely looking the other way. I got to see the phenomena first hand that Paul had referred to. Whenever I touched him, Tyler’s eyes closed briefly and it looked like he momentarily stopped breathing. When Jo looked at her watch and announced dinner time, I said, “You go in, Jo, and tell your mum we’re on our way and I’ll just help Tyler get his overnight things from the van.”

  The second she’d left he snatched me up and fell upon me. By the time he’d finished kissing me he was shaking and I felt a bit weak.

  “You utterly gorgeous thing, you,” he said with a warm smile into my eyes, then added in frustration. “Are we going to have to spend yet another night apart?”

  “We can get up early and leave together,” I suggested.

  “Yep, let’s do that,” Tyler agreed. “But I won’t sleep, knowing you’re just up the corridor from me!”

  “We’d better go in,” I warned him. “And don’t give anything away will you? Paul knows, but Pete and Jo don’t. I guess by the end of this evening, we’ll find out how Paul intends to deal with it.”

  The meal was relaxed. It helps to have someone from outside the family to dispel sulks and atmospheres. At one point Tyler directed at me, “Isn’t it your birthday sometime soon?”

  “At the end of the month,” I agreed. “How did you
remember that?”

  He frowned. “They showed it on Thrills and Spills last year, and it was my Tilly’s birthday the same day as they broadcast it so she got all excited.”

  “So how old is she this year?” Sue asked.

  He smiled. “Ten.”

  “God, does that mean you were having babies at Pete’s age?” I said. I grimaced at Pete. Pete pulled a face back.

  Tyler sighed. “Well I didn’t plan to. But Jeanette and I had been together five years by then and I think she must have got bored or something. I didn’t have much say in the matter. We got married after Tilly was born and then decided to add Nadia.”

  “You’d better have a quiet word with Quinn,” I said jokingly. “He announced to me a while back that he didn’t want to have to change another nappy for at least ten years and for me to warn him if he ever looked like hooking up with the broody sort. But Daisy’s making her move now…”

  “Ooo, what’s she doing?” Jo was always one for gossip about Quinn and Daisy.

  “Taking him round to see his Mum.”

  Jo frowned. “How is that a move?”

  “Getting the blessing of the dying Mother of course,” I said. “Now Kathleen keeps talking to Daisy about how to look after Quinn after she’s gone…”

  “Ooo, subtle,” Jo admired.

  “And it’s working already. When I asked Quinn if he’d help us out occasionally with Fay he had to ask Daisy if that would be alright. And from the look in her eyes, it fucking well wasn’t alright, but she had to say it was for now. So eventually he’ll have to say bye-bye to cars,” I predicted. “Daisy will steer him down the music route. That’s how they met. And I think that might be a good move on her part. It’ll keep both of them happy.”

  Pete’s eyes were lowered throughout this. But Tyler was looking really interested. “Quinn’s bloody fantastic isn’t he?” He said enthusiastically.

  I grinned at him. “And as for you and Mariah!” I teased. I looked round at the rest of the table. “All she had to do was flutter her eyelashes at him and he was a gonna! It was all, coochie coochie goo goo, row the boat, splurrrrrrr” (I did a raspberry blowing noise) “on the tummy! I left them both to it...By the time I came back they were taking turns feeding Mariah eggy soldiers while discussing the RAC and she was like, wey-hey all this male attention! I hope she doesn’t turn out like Siân…”