by Paige Toon
‘What about your name?’ Luis asks finally. ‘Why “Paola Giuseppe” and not “Daisy Rogers”?’
‘It wasn’t intentional,’ I say, although quite honestly, at the time I was happy to leave my identity back in New York. ‘Johnny discovered my middle names and decided they suited me better. He wouldn’t stop calling me Paola Giuseppe and it soon stuck.’
‘And when you quit? What did you do, then?’
‘I reverted to my real name. I didn’t want anything to remind me of him.’ I didn’t want anything to remind me of my former life in New York either, but even that was preferable to Johnny.
Luis nods and I pause for a moment, thinking.
‘I told you I didn’t read the tabloids.’
‘You did.’
‘When I moved to England I read them all the time. I bought every single one and scoured the pages for news of Johnny. It began to eat me up. I realised I was addicted, so one day I went cold turkey. I haven’t read them since. Of course, I still hear things about him, about all those trips he’s had back and forth into rehab, but I do my best to avoid all news of him.’
‘You’re still not over him?’
I think about this for a moment. ‘Do you know what, I actually think that I am. But there’s no point testing it. He still hurt me. I don’t want those feelings to rise up inside me again. I think that sort of pain takes years to get over.’
‘Don’t they say it takes twice as much time as the time you went out with someone to get over them?’
I glance at Luis and grin. ‘Did you read that in a women’s magazine?’
He looks sheepish. ‘Might’ve done.’
‘Well, it’s taking me a bit longer, to be honest. I only worked with Johnny for eight months, but he made a major impact on me.’
‘That’s probably why he’s famous.’
I cock my head to one side. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right. He has the X factor . . .’ I say this sardonically. ‘What about you? Why are you reading women’s mags? Were they your girlfriend’s?’
Luis almost chokes on his beer. ‘Girlfriend, no!’
‘Why the strong reaction?’
‘I don’t have a girlfriend.’
‘Why not? You’re acting like they’re a disease or something.’
He shrugs. ‘Not my style.’
‘Oh God, another one like Johnny. That’s all the world needs.’
He looks thoughtful and stares down at his beer bottle.
‘I’m not that bad,’ he tells me.
‘No?’
‘Maybe I was hurt myself once.’
‘Oh, Jesus, you really have been reading women’s magazines, haven’t you!’ I start to crack up, but then see his face and realise it’s not a laughing matter. ‘Sorry. Tell me what happened?’
‘Not much to say,’ he replies. ‘Fell in love with a girl, she ran off with my best mate.’
‘Oh, no, that’s awful.’
‘Yeah, it did suck a bit.’
‘When did this happen?’
‘When I was about nineteen.’
‘Nineteen?’ I exclaim. ‘Luis! That’s ages ago!’
He doesn’t say anything.
‘But how long did you go out together?’
‘Since we were at school.’
‘Not another pair of childhood sweethearts . . .’ I moan, then apologise for bringing the conversation back to me. ‘So does that theory work for you? Has it taken twice as much time as you were together for you to get over her?’
‘Hell no, much more. But I’m over her now. I may not have gone to her wedding, but I am over her.’
‘Wedding? Who did she marry?’
He gives me a wry look.
‘Not your best friend?’ I pull a face.
He laughs. ‘Well, I wouldn’t call him that anymore.’
‘No, I guess not.’ I swallow a mouthful of whisky as the bartender plonks a couple of refills back on the bar top.
‘Cheers!’ Luis says again. ‘I shouldn’t really be drinking all this the night before qualifying. Simon and João would go mad.’
I glance at my watch. It’s getting close to two a.m. ‘Do you think we should call it quits?’ I look around. My friends have already left.
‘Yeah, you’re probably right,’ Luis replies, putting his bottle of beer on the bar top.
I slide off my stool and almost topple down a step that I forgot was there.
‘Whoa,’ Luis says, putting his hands on my arms to steady me. I look up into his dark-brown eyes and a hundred butterflies swarm through my stomach, taking me completely by surprise. I feel my face heat up and quickly look away.
And considering how openly we both spoke earlier on in the night, on the walk back to the hotel we find we have very little to say to each other at all.
Chapter 14
‘Have you told him to fuck off in French yet?’ Luis asks me the next day during morning tea service.
I laugh. All appears to be normal between us. I don’t know what was going on with those butterflies, but my blame falls squarely on the alcohol.
I got back before Holly last night. I tried to ring her because I was worried, then realised she’d already texted me to say everything was fine and they were going to Jimmyz nightclub. Infamous Eurotrash heaven, apparently.
I nod at Luis. ‘You look alright considering how much you had to drink.’ Klaus and Gertrude did the early shift so this is the first time we’ve seen each other today.
‘Are you saying I normally look like a man who can’t hold his drink?’
I consider him. ‘Well, you are a bit scrawny.’
He laughs and throws a napkin at me.
‘Oi!’ I’m about to throw it back at him, but spy Frederick by the kitchen door. ‘I’ll get you back, right when you least expect it,’ I warn, evilly.
‘Just you try, bun tart.’
We’re still chuckling when Will and Laura appear.
‘Good morning,’ I say, not sounding quite as forced chirpy as I did the day before. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’
‘Tucking into the pastries, are you, Luis?’ Will says.
‘I need something to help me get over my hangover,’ Luis casually explains.
‘Out drinking the night before qualifying?’ Will raises his eyebrows.
‘Blame Daisy,’ Luis answers, as I hand him tiny pots of butter and jam to go with his croissant.
Will frowns and indicates me with his thumb. ‘Daisy? This Daisy?’
Luis nods, picking up a knife and leaning against the serving table. ‘Yeah, we had a few, didn’t we?’
‘That we did,’ I agree.
‘Were you guys all out together or something?’ Will nods towards the kitchen where Holly is working away.
‘No, just Daisy and me,’ Luis explains, slathering his croissant with butter.
The corners of Will’s mouth turn down.
‘Aw, did you head off early from the charity event?’ Laura pipes up.
‘Afraid so.’ Luis pulls a face. ‘Not really my scene, all that stuff. But don’t worry, I left a little something. Anyway, better get this down me before we hit the track. See ya later.’ He winks at me and wanders away.
‘What can I get for you?’ I force a smile at Laura.
‘Just a juice, please.’
‘Orange? Apple? Grapefruit?’ I wave my hand at the glass jugs to my right.
‘Ooh, I don’t know,’ she replies, sweetly. ‘Maybe . . . Apple? Are you a little short?’ She examines the contents of the jug.
‘There’s more out the back,’ I tell her, trying to keep my tone even. Just hurry up and bugger off.
‘Okay, apple then,’ she decides.
‘Will?’ I turn to him.
‘Nothing, thanks.’
I serve Laura and then watch as they walk off to an empty table.
‘What’s up with you?’ Holly asks, coming out of the kitchen with a platter of mini lemon tarts. ‘You look like you want to murder someone . .
. Oh,’ she says, spying Will and Laura.
I instantly feel mean. It’s not like she’s done anything wrong. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong, either, for that matter. Am I acting like a crazy person?
‘I think we’d better go back to that plan where you kick me,’ I say mournfully to Holly.
Later, Frederick asks us both to stock up the snacks in the garages. We traipse across the Rascasse bridge, laden down with cool boxes.
My heart plummets as we walk in to see Will standing next to his car, fully kitted out in racing gear, with Laura at his side. Catalina is talking to Laura, and then Simon joins them, affectionately placing his hand on Laura’s back.
I try not to look, but the jealousy is killing me.
Laura’s blonde hair is lightly streaked with expensive-looking highlights. She wears it down, around her shoulders. Mine is tied up into a bun as usual. I feel inadequate.
‘Stop staring,’ Holly whispers.
I quickly turn my attention to the sandwiches we’re setting up, but out of the corner of my eye I notice Will climbing into his car. Laura and Catalina move out of the way as mechanics swarm in to push it out of the garage.
I turn to Holly. ‘I think I might go back.’
‘No, stay,’ she pleads. I watch as the mechanics start up Will’s car and he zooms away from the pits. There’s a white box painted on the floor of Will’s garage to show where his car goes and Laura stands right in the centre of it. I study her for a moment as she watches the single television screen above her head following Will’s journey as he skilfully manoeuvres the car around the circuit. She looks tense.
No one else stands inside the box with Laura. It’s like she owns it. Like she owns Will.
‘I’m going,’ I say, picking up the empty cool boxes.
‘No . . .’ Holly blocks me.
‘Well, at least let’s go through to Luis’s garage,’ I say.
She perks up. ‘Okay!’
Luis is already inside his car, watching Will’s lap on the television screen above his head. We stand behind him, watching too, and after a while the mechanics come in to start up his car. He pulls out of the garage.
Towards the end of the qualifying, Catalina comes over to us.
‘Don’t you have any egg sandwiches?’
I’m about to apologise, but Holly speaks first.
‘No,’ she snaps.
‘The other two. The Germans. They had them yesterday,’ Catalina says. That was when Klaus and Gertrude were in charge of the catering in the pits.
‘Well, we don’t have them today,’ Holly answers coolly. I watch in alarm. Isn’t she taking this too far?
‘Can you make some?’ she asks impatiently.
‘Too busy for that, I’m afraid.’ Holly looks back up at the television screen while I stand there, tensely.
‘You don’t look very busy to me,’ Catalina says, turning her nose up.
‘We’re on a break,’ Holly replies, emphasising the word ‘break’. She stares at her directly and after a moment, Catalina crumbles and stalks off to Will’s garage. We see her walk outside to the pit wall where Simon is sitting with headphones on. She says something to him and he lifts one of the headphones off his ear to hear her. Holly and I watch this exchange intently, me feeling like we’re about to lose our jobs. But Simon shrugs and puts his headphones back on. I glance at Holly to see a satisfied little smirk on her lips. She looks at me smugly, then refocusses her attention on the television screen.
There’s a funny feeling in my stomach. An uneasiness. I watch as Catalina makes her way back to the catering table and starts to load up her plate with assorted sandwiches. She glances through to Luis’s garage so I quickly avert my gaze. She’s a witch, but I feel an odd sense of pity for her, and it’s not sitting well with me.
‘I feel a bit bad,’ I say to Holly.
‘Don’t,’ she bites back, glaring through at Catalina as she perches on a chair in front of the six television screens at the back of the garages.
All of a sudden the mechanics around us cheer. We look back up to see Luis has taken pole position.
‘No way!’ I exclaim, delighted. ‘Where’s Will?’
Will is still doing his last lap around the track. As he reaches the start/finish line, we watch in tense silence.
Second!
Everyone claps and I look across at Laura. She’s standing in the box, smiling.
Will is going to be disappointed with that time. I know how desperately he wants to win here. Laura knows, too. That’s why her smile keeps faltering.
The drivers return and everyone moves out of the way as the mechanics help manoeuvre the cars back onto the white boxes. Luis leaps out to many slaps on the back. In Will’s garage, it’s more reserved.
‘Hey!’
I turn back to see Luis standing in front of me, holding his helmet in his hand. His black hair is damp.
‘Well done!’ I pat him on the arm and beam, feeling genuinely happy for him.
‘Thanks!’ He’s still grinning. ‘You watched it?’
‘We did.’ I fold my arms across my chest. Luis glances through to Will’s garage where Laura is speaking intimately into Will’s ear. At that moment, Will looks up and his eyes flit between Luis and I, his brow furrowing. He returns his attention to Laura and shakes his head, seemingly with irritation, as though he couldn’t hear what she was saying. She steps backwards in frustration, then leans in again to repeat herself.
Luis and I turn back to each other. ‘I’m going to go take a shower,’ he says, giving me a knowing look. ‘Catch you later, bun tarts!’ He smacks Holly on her bum and she squeals as he walks off.
I glance again into Will’s garage, but he has his back to me. ‘Come on, we should go,’ I say to Holly.
‘Sure. Let’s just grab the cool boxes.’
That evening, we get ready at the track. We’re all going to a bar on the harbour, and Holly is expecting big things from me after my drinking session with Luis last night.
Speaking of whom, I spy him jogging down the stairs into the hospitality area. He comes over.
‘Are you coming out tonight?’ I ask.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Some bar on the harbour. Bars, Stars . . . something like that.’
‘Stars ’N’ Bars?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘Yeah, cool. I’ve got to go to some drinks do on a yacht, but I may catch you there later.’
I feel a tinge of regret as I remember Will saying he’d try to get me an invite to a yacht party. There’s no chance of that, now.
Later that night, we’re all at Stars ’N’ Bars, an American sports bar with a view overlooking the harbour. It’s absolutely jam-packed, but we’ve monopolised a section of the bar. I find myself looking at my watch, wondering if and when Luis will turn up. When he finally does at ten o’clock, flanked by a member of team security, I can’t stop smiling.
‘You’ve cheered up,’ he comments. ‘Had a few?’ He indicates the wine glass in my hand.
‘Might’ve done,’ I answer. ‘You’ve brought a friend with you tonight?’ I nod behind him to the security guard, who’s trying to look inconspicuous standing against the wall.
Luis rolls his eyes. ‘Simon insisted. You know, pole position, Monaco . . .’
‘I didn’t think it was likely to be your idea. How was the yacht?’
‘Good.’ He nods.
‘Spot any famous people?’
‘No, tomorrow’s the best day for that. Make sure you do the grid walk.’
Pete comes over. ‘Shouldn’t you be in bed, mate?’ he shouts.
‘Fuck that!’ Luis shouts back.
‘In that case, cheers!’ Pete hands a bottle of beer over and they chink bottles.
‘Where are the others?’ I ask.
‘Will went back to the hotel.’ Luis takes a swig of his beer and looks around the bar.
‘With Laura?’ I find myself asking, but, of course, I kn
ow the answer.
‘Yep,’ he replies.
‘Enculé!’ I shout at the top of my voice.
He’s laughing when Holly returns from the ladies’ room.
‘Luis!’ she squeals, enveloping him in a drunken embrace. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine, thanks!’ Although he looks decidedly uncomfortable with Holly hanging around his neck.
‘How was the yacht?’ she shouts, letting go of her grip on him.
‘Big!’ he replies.
‘Was Catalina there with Simon?
’ He narrows his eyes as he answers, ‘Yes.’
I notice a hardness come over her features as she looks away. Out of the blue, she turns back and plasters a big, false smile on her face.
‘I’m going to the bar!’ she shouts and pushes past us.
I feel dizzy as realisation comes crashing down on me. I knew something was up. I knew it. And now I know with whom.
Luis is watching me with a strange expression on his face.
‘You know, don’t you?’ I ask him bluntly.
‘About what?’
‘Simon.’
‘What do you mean, Simon?’
‘Don’t play dumb with me. I saw the look you gave Holly when she asked if Catalina was on the yacht with him.’
‘Wait, before we go any further, what do you know?’ He pulls me to one side, away from the mechanics, and clocks me straight in the eye. I size him up in return, but even if I wasn’t so sure my instincts were correct, something tells me I can trust him.
‘Holly is having an affair with Simon.’ There. I’ve said it.
