Pole Position

by Sofia Grey

  “I told you, my dad is really into local history. For as long as I can remember, he’s been telling me the stories of everywhere we’ve been.”

  Jon nodded and pointed to a towering stone building, opposite the car park. “Is that where we’re going?” His eyes lit up with interest.

  I nodded. “You wanted to go to Conwy Castle, and this is much smaller, but it’s just as beautiful. I thought you might like to see it.”

  ****

  After we’d swapped places in the car, I helped him replace the elastic bandages, and kissed his hands. “These were working fine last night,” I reminded him with a smile, thinking back to our lovemaking in front of the fire. Jon scowled at me, but let me hold him briefly. Thankfully, he was back to normal now, the bouncing lively Jon from earlier. Either that or he was a better actor than I thought.

  The castle bustled with visitors, but there was plenty of space to explore, and I showed him all my favorite spots. His camera lay slung, unused, across his shoulder, and I wondered if it was because he thought he’d struggle to operate it.

  “Could you show me how your camera works? I’d love to take some pictures.” He showed me which buttons to press to focus and zoom, and how to view the images on the little screen at the back. He was soon using it again and took some snaps of me, his fingers now moving easily again. I saw the relief wash across his face. Whatever was wrong with his hands had terrified him.

  From that point, the day picked up. I took him to the cozy café opposite where I coaxed him into a sweet and sticky treat: toasted crumpets served with pats of local butter and golden syrup, along with tall glasses of cream-topped hot chocolate. From there, it made sense for me to drive back, since I was familiar with the roads, and I took the scenic route along the bottom of the island. Past the looming sand dunes and rabbit warrens of Aberffraw, over the headland, past the beaches along the Porth Trecastell road, and down toward Rhosneigr.

  “This is absolutely one of my favorite places round here, apart from Bryn Dinas. We used to holiday in Rhosneigr all the time. It has the most amazing sandy beach leading into the dunes. We’ll come back next week as well, when the flying resumes. You’ll love that.” I drove through the streets, now quiet as we came to the end of the afternoon, and parked overlooking the sand. “There’s a fabulous ice cream shop, let’s go there first.” I took Jon’s hand and we strolled into the village, chatting happily about the castle we’d just visited.

  The ice cream shop doubled as a café and was busy with a handful of customers choosing cakes and drinks. We pored over the ice cream cabinet while I tried to decide what flavor to have, and then I noticed Jon was staring into the shop.

  “Hang on a minute.” He squeezed my hand and walked into the café area to where a man sat with a small toddler, an empty ice cream dish in front of them.

  I watched, bemused, as Jon strode confidently up to them. The stranger was tall and powerfully built, a little older than Jon, and dressed casually. Handsome too—with longish black hair, glossy as a crow’s wing. Steely gray eyes glanced up at Jon as he approached, and then a beaming smile of recognition swept across his face.

  Jon spoke first. “Jordan Merrill? I thought I recognized you. You’re about the last person I’d expect to see here.”

  The stranger stood and held out a hand to him. “Jon. Good to see you again. What the hell are you doing here?” His accent was American, a southern drawl.

  Jon turned to beckon me across. “I’m on holiday here, with Anita.”

  I shyly held out my hand, and he shook it firmly.

  He urged us to sit down with him. “This is my daughter, Poppy.”

  He spoke with great pride as he pulled her onto his lap. The toddler stared up at us with huge, bold eyes and reached out to touch my hair. There was no doubt of their relationship. She looked like a tiny version of him.

  Jordan smiled. “It’s good to see you fit and well. I watched the race at Spa, and you had me worried. I was only reading your blog last night.”

  Jon shrugged, the confident man I’d fallen in love with again. “It looked worse than it was. But what are you doing here? I heard you’d left the company. What happened?”

  Jordan grinned and tickled Poppy. “It’s a long story, but I live here now. Say, why don’t you both come over and meet Kate, my wife. We’d love to catch up properly. How long are you staying here?”

  “Another week. We’re over near Holyhead.”

  Jon must have realized he’d been ignoring me; he took my hand and flashed me a smile. “This is Jordan Merrill. His company is one of the sponsors of our team, but since they’re based in Houston, I didn’t expect to see him here.”

  “TM-Tech is based in Houston, but I do freelance for them now. Look, we’ve just about finished. Kate sent me to pick up something for dinner and Poppy demanded ice cream, so come on back with us. I’m parked right outside. Do you wanna follow me?”

  I glanced at Jon. “I’m happy if you are? We can get ice cream another time.”

  “Yeah, why not. Are you sure your wife won’t mind?”

  He looked enthusiastic. “Kate? She loves showing off our home, and she’d love to meet you.” He smiled at me. “Both of you.”

  19.3 Anita

  Jordan loaded his daughter into a gleaming silver Jaguar and strapped her into a complicated looking restraint in the back seat. Over her wails of annoyance, he spoke to us. “I’ll wait here, pull up behind me and follow me. It’s only about a mile, but more than madam here can walk at the moment.”

  Jon made no comment when I settled behind the wheel again. “Are you sure you don’t mind about this?” He kissed my hand. “His company was one of the sponsors for my Indy Car team, and when I moved back to the UK they continued to follow me, but I always thought he might become a friend too. I haven’t seen him for a couple of years, and then it was in a business meeting. I’ve only ever seen him in a pin-stripe suit. I barely recognized him in jeans and T-shirt.”

  “What’s his wife like?”

  “Dunno, I never met her. Probably some glossy American. Jordan’s a nice guy though.”

  I thought fleetingly of Jon’s own glossy, American wife and pushed the uncomfortable image away. I wondered if Jordan knew Jon’s wife. Jon had introduced me by name, not as his girlfriend. I guess he’d hardly introduce me as his mistress. I didn’t want to ask him how he defined our relationship. I was scared of the answer.

  We soon drove through a pair of crumbling stone gateposts and up a winding drive. I parked behind Jordan, awestruck at the house in front of us. It loomed over us like a gothic mansion, perched on a slight rise with sweeping lawns falling away in front of it. Scaffolding was erected to one side, and bricks were stacked neatly under a tarpaulin.

  Shy now, I climbed out of the car after Jon, and clutched his hand.

  He squeezed my fingers. “Don’t worry, we won’t stay long.”

  Jordan released the wriggling Poppy from her car seat, and she set off in a fast but wobbly run toward the house. “Go find your mom.”

  I watched in amusement as she careered toward an open door, shrieking “Mommy,” as she went.

  “She runs like she’s drunk,” said Jordan. He watched her until she disappeared inside, and turned back to Jon. “Nice car, is it yours?”

  “I borrowed it from my old man, but I think you’d like what I normally drive.” Jon’s eyes sparkled. “Sixth Generation ‘Vette, three sixty-four cubic-inch V8, four hundred BHP, generating four hundred pound foot of torque.”

  “Whoa. The sports coupe or the convertible?”

  “Coupe. Four-speed auto box.”

  Their car talk was incomprehensible to me, and I stood there, fidgeting. Poppy emerged from the house, towing a young, pretty woman. She was curvy, with shoulder-length, dark-brown hair, and casually dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with flour splashed all across her front. She looked friendly and walked up to Jordan, slipped her free hand in his back pocket, and gave him a kiss while still hangi
ng on to Poppy.

  “You going to introduce me?” she asked. “Poppy says we have friends here.”

  “Sorry.” He bent down and picked up their daughter, holding her upside down while she squealed in delight. Tossing her gently over his shoulder, he turned back to us. “Kate, this is Jon Craigowan, and Anita. Guys, this is my gorgeous wife, Kate.”

  Jon instantly stuck out his hand to shake hers, while I gawped for a moment. Not only was she not the typical glamorous American that I had expected, but she had a slight Manchester accent.

  Her eyes widened. “The Jon Craigowan? Hello. I’m really pleased, and surprised, to meet you. Please come in and have a drink or something.” As Jordan had done, glanced up and down his body, resting finally on his smiling face. “We saw the crash on TV. It’s a great relief to see you in one piece.”

  Kate turned to me, her cheeks pink. “I’m sorry, my manners are dreadful. Did Jordan say your name was Annie?”

  “Anita. It’s nice to meet you. Your daughter is very beautiful.”

  She beamed with pride. “Headstrong too.”

  “I wonder where she gets that from.” Jordan spoke lazily, prompting Kate to nudge him in the ribs.

  “Mommy.” Poppy wriggled in Jordan’s arms, but he held her easily, obviously used to her writhing.

  “It’s Mummy, darling, not Mommy.” She gave Jordan a mock glare. “We live in England, where I’m called Mummy.”

  He just shrugged and gave her an innocent look. “Come inside and have a look around. We don’t often have visitors.”

  As we trooped into the house, I spoke to Kate. “This makes me think of Manderley, you know, from Rebecca?”

  “Oh yes, I guess it does. I never thought of it like that before.” Her brown eyes sparkled, and she walked beside me. Jon walked with Jordan, talking cars again, and Poppy danced along between us all. “I inherited this from my Gran. I’ve known it since I was Poppy’s age. It was in a bad state of repair when I came to live here though, and we’re in a constant state of renovation, hence the pile of bricks at the front.”

  While Jordan propelled Jon to his study to look at something, Kate took me into a long, cool kitchen. It looked like a family room, with garden flowers in jam jars, and violets in a pot along one windowsill. Brightly colored paintings were affixed to a giant fridge with magnets, and a corkboard was covered with newspaper clippings and handwritten notes. I spotted a picture of Jon on a podium and went to look closer.

  “This is Jon.” I was excited to see his picture.

  “Yes, Jordan’s been following his season. He looks good for the championship, doesn’t he?”

  I didn’t really know. I kept blocking out his racing from my mind, unwilling to think about it.

  Kate bent down to pick up Poppy, and efficiently strapped her into a high chair, giving her some paper and crayons to play with. “Jordan often mentions him.” She paused and gazed with interest at me. “Have you been together long?”

  “Only a few weeks.”

  She smiled, she was really very pretty. “I must be getting confused. I thought he was married.”

  My cheeks burned. “He is, or was. He’s separated from his wife.”

  “Oh.” Her embarrassment looked as great as mine. “Talk about putting your foot in it. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  The men came back in, laughing and joking about something. Kate glanced at them, and then back at me. “We’ve plenty of food, would you like to stay for dinner? That is assuming Jordan remembered to buy the potatoes he went out for.”

  “In the trunk. I’ll get them.” He disappeared outside and Kate ushered us both to the table.

  “Seriously, would you like to stay? It’s nothing fancy, just steak and chips.”

  Jon looked at me, his eyes twinkling, and I shrugged, unable to resist his good humor. “I need to feed the animals,” I said. “Why don’t I go and do that, then come straight back? It’ll only take me half an hour.”

  “Animals?” Poppy looked up from her drawing.

  Kate rolled her eyes. “She adores animals. Our poor cat gets no peace from her.”

  “We’re looking after my parents’ place while they’re away. They’ve a manic border collie and two cats. And horses in the fields next door, but they’re with the riding school.”

  “Cats, Poppy.” She spoke to the child. “Anita has pussy cats.”

  Jon ran his knuckles down my cheek. “Are you sure you don’t mind, sweetheart? I’d love the opportunity to look through Jordan’s work without you getting bored. He’s a design engineer.”

  I kissed him briefly. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”

  19.4 Anita

  I returned as planned, bringing a bottle of wine and a bowl of fresh-picked raspberries, and arrived in time to say goodnight to Poppy. Kate went to settle her in bed while I hung back listening to Jon and Jordan talk in their weird shorthand. They appeared to get on amazingly well. This was the first time I’d seen Jon with anything approaching a friend, but we’d only been together a matter of weeks, and so wrapped up in each other that everyone else became unimportant.

  Dinner was fun. Kate, in particular, went out of her way to make me feel at home. We sat round the kitchen table and talked easily, music playing softly in the background. As we dawdled over coffee, the talk turned, as I suppose it had to, to Jon’s crash. He was short and reluctant to talk about it, and Kate told us about an accident that had happened to Jordan, when he’d been attacked in a case of mistaken identity and beaten round the head with a baseball bat. She spoke of the horror of waiting in hospital, not knowing if he’d live or die. We were both shocked and horrified, but worse was to come. Kate mentioned that if she ever saw Rob Allerton again, she’d have to be restrained. Otherwise she’d kill him, to pay him back for the pain he’d caused her. The blood rushed so fast from my head I went dizzy. The cup slipped from my fingers, and I rushed to mop up the spilled drink.

  “Did you say Rob Allerton?” My voice came out as a croak. They all looked at me with surprise. “Can you describe him?”

  Kate looked puzzled. “Cropped hair, good-looking face, stocky, your typical Manchester thug. Do you know him?”

  I could hardly speak. I swallowed hard and looked at Jon for help. He just stared back, not understanding. “I used to go out with him.” I stared down at the table, suddenly close to tears.

  Jon made a shocked noise. “Christ, is it the same bloke?”

  I nodded. He put his hand over mine but I couldn’t stop trembling. I knew Rob was a thug, after how he’d behaved with me, but to attack someone with a baseball bat?

  Jordan sat back in his chair, a strange expression flitting across his face. “Any more psychos in your closet?”

  Kate rounded on him. “Enough, can’t you see she’s upset? And besides, my friend Jenny married him. He treated her badly, and it was because she walked out on him that he came looking for her.”

  “He treated me badly too,” I whispered. I took a deep breath and looked up at Jordan. “I never thought he was capable of something like that. It makes me feel sick to think about him.”

  An awkward silence fell.

  “Well, that proves the two degrees of separation theory,” drawled Jordan.

  Kate looked at him, puzzled for a moment. Then her brow cleared. “Of course. Anita is linked, unfortunately, to Rob Allerton, and Rob is linked to Jordan.”

  Jordan spoke again. “There’s a theory you can connect any two people in the world, anywhere, by just six degrees of separation. We’ve just proved I’m only two degrees apart from you.” He nodded at Jon. “And I’m also two degrees apart, via Jon here.”

  I was grateful to him for changing the subject. Jon squeezed my hand and gave me a kiss. The ugly moment had passed.

  Chapter 20

  20.1 Jon

  When Jordan opened the wine, Anita suggested I have some and she’d drive home, and I was fine with that. It was a good evening, and refreshing to spen
d it with somebody else. Kate had been a revelation to us both. I’d been expecting a Susie-clone but instead, she was delightfully down to earth, and besotted with her husband.

  As Anita drove back, negotiating the dark, narrow lanes with the ease of someone long familiar with the roads, I reflected on Jordan’s question. He asked if she had any other psychos in her closet, and I’d immediately thought of Danny. Was Anita drawn to bullies and thugs? And if so, what did that make me? Another bully? Or her savior?

  I made love to her slowly and tenderly in bed, wanting to eradicate any lingering thoughts of her ex. Kneeling over Anita, and sliding easily into her while she writhed and moaned beneath me, was heaven itself. It’d be hard to go back to using a condom after this. The closeness we shared made our lovemaking the best I’d known with any woman. Afterward, as I gathered her to me, I whispered to her. “I love making love with you.”

  She gazed back at me with her soft, luminous eyes and just kissed me in reply. I momentarily felt cheated. I’d opened up my heart to her. I was falling in love with her for God’s sake, and I didn’t know if she felt the same way about me.

  ****

  I was in the car again, back at Spa. I took Pouhon wide, cursed as Pedro started to inch alongside me on the inside. The track held water. I couldn’t get any traction. I battled to hold my line and saw the tangled mess of cars tumbling toward me again.

  Everything happened in the blink of an eye, yet so slow. I had time to look across at Pedro—not clear yet. He had a narrow strip of grass on his inside and then a solid barrier. He should be fine. The sparking wall of metal headed straight for me. I braked, slammed the car down through the gears, and heard the engine and tires screaming over the immense noise outside the cockpit. And then, with no other option, I pointed my car into the back of Pedro’s. It jerked him into the carnage. He fought it, yawed left, right, and veered across—right into its path. No. That shouldn’t have happened.