“And you don’t like this man at all?” I asked cautiously.
“No! He’s horrible! I hate him!”
These days, since all the abuse stuff, I was more on the alert for subtexts. “Has he ever done anything to you that has made you uncomfortable?”
I saw Nish glancing sideways at me. Nad curled up defensively and said nothing.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” I asked carefully.
“You were going to marry Daddy, so you’re my stepmother and I want to come and live with you and drive Stocks,” she insisted stubbornly.
“Thing is, sweetheart,” I started, and I felt her whole body tensing up against the rejection she knew was coming, “Daddy died before we could get married, so legally, I’m no relation of yours whatsoever, and the police would come and get you back, and the courts would say I had to go to prison for kidnap…”
She began to cry again. “Why did Daddy have to go and die on us?” She appealed despairingly. “Why did he abandon us like that?”
I wiped back my own tears. This was just awful. “Are you angry with him darling?” I asked.
Her face puckered up. “Yes, I am! I’m really angry with him for leaving us! But I don’t want to be angry with him because I’m not allowed to be am I? Because he couldn’t help it…”
“I know, I feel the same,” I admitted brokenly. “I try so hard not to be angry with him because I know he’d have given anything, absolutely anything not to have hurt us like this…”
My arms tightened around her again as I remembered almost his last conversation with me being about the fact that he was determined not to let his girls grow up without a father, however hard Jeanette made it for him to gain access to them.
“Do you still dream about him?” Nad asked with a sniffle.
“Yes,” I admitted. “We’re both driving in a race, and we’re both driving really hard to beat each other, and he draws up beside me and smiles across at me, but I never know who’s won…”
“I dream that he’s just won a big Championship and he holds out his arms to me and picks me up, and they take photos of him holding me and the cup in front of the car,” she told me.
“And how does that make you feel?” I asked, hugging her.
“Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! But then I wake up and he’s not there and I cry because I realise it’s only a dream and I’m never going to see him again…”
Tears were pouring down my own face too. “Yes, I can’t decide whether I want to dream about him or not,” I admitted. “Because if I do, it means I get a few moments back with him, but then I wake up and realise I’m facing the whole of the rest of my life without him. And he died so suddenly! One moment we were making plans for the rest of our life and the next minute there was no more life and I’d never told him how much he meant to me!”
We were both a mess now. I had to try to pick up the pieces before we got to her house. I was the adult. For her sake, I had to pull myself together.
“Nish’s daddy has just died too,” I said to divert her attention.
She looked in an appalled way across at him and reached her small hand out to touch his shoulder. “Oh, you poor thing,” she said compassionately. “Does it feel like your insides have been ripped out? That’s what it felt like when my daddy died… What do you dream about him?”
Nish glanced very briefly at her then looked straight ahead, his knuckles tightening on the wheel. I thought he would avoid answering, but instead he said, “I dream that I’m holding a cup aloft on the podium and they’re all spraying champagne and Dad’s there at my side, and then when I wake up I realise that the next time I win anything he won’t be there to see it. He was so looking forward to seeing me on my first Formula One podium…” His voice shook slightly.
I glanced at the sat nav on my phone. “We’re nearly there Nish, can you pull over for a moment so we can finish off?”
Nad sat silently, her head bowed. I didn’t know what to say.
“Please can you ask my mum if you can take me racing?” She ventured at last in a small voice.
“She won’t let me,” I said. I sighed. “I didn’t start till I was seventeen, Nad. I didn’t have anyone to help me either. I had to wait till I was old enough to make my own way.”
“But I want to start now,” she insisted. “I wouldn’t be so unhappy all the time then…”
I thought about it. What if I asked Jo to take her on now Cody was finishing? But who would pay? We’d have to source a Ministox or a Micro and I couldn’t expect Jo to do all the work without paying her, and I couldn’t afford to pay for it myself. Nad started to speak.
“Sssshh, I’m thinking,” I said. I bit my lip. This might just work.
“Do you remember Mick and Tom? Your daddy’s mechanics? Mick bought the garage business off your mum?”
She nodded cautiously.
“Well, I can’t promise anything. But I’ll ring Mick and see if he and Tom could take you to a few races and maintain the car. We could do a sponsorship deal and he could have his name on the car…”
“It’s still called ‘Tyler’s’,” she volunteered, “in memory of my dad…”
“Even better!” I exclaimed. “It’s such an obvious fit! And Mick was such a strait-laced disciplinarian sort, I’m sure your mother would trust him to take you about.”
Nad pulled a face.
“Don’t worry, I bet it’ll be mostly Tom who gets to do it.” I sat frowning. “I’ll ring Mick and put it to him and he’ll have to be the one to approach your mother.”
I glanced at my watch. “Time to go in now. Do you want me to come?” I really, really hoped she wouldn’t.
“No. She’ll only shout at you,” she said resentfully.
“Ok, darling,” I advised her. “This is how you play it. You went to Mildenhall to see the cars, not to find me. You’re really sorry that you scared her, but you met Jo and Pete Satterthwaite there and an old man who used to babysit you, and you had such a lovely time… You don’t mention me. You stay polite and nice, and you don’t get defiant, and you don’t tell them you hate them and that you want to run away. You keep patiently, wistfully, mentioning that you want to drive. And you sit tight and say ‘please, Mummy, please’ when Mick rings and afterwards, if he persuades her to agree, then you say some really nice thankyous. Got it?”
She looked intelligently at me. She had her daddy’s eyes. “Got it,” she affirmed.
Nish and I swopped over, and I got into the driver’s seat and adjusted the seat and mirror. When I started the car up and put it violently into gear, Nish snapped, “Don’t take it out on my car!”
I drove us fast up the road.
“And don’t drive in a temper,” he added sharply.
“Either drive this car yourself,” I said through clenched teeth, “or shut up and go to sleep.”
He shut up, folded his arms, and stared out of the side window. He said nothing the whole way home, but when I occasionally glanced at him he didn’t seem to be asleep.
Back at his flat it was after eleven and I headed for my bike.
“Don’t go,” he said.
I glanced at him. He looked bereft. I figured all this bereavement talk couldn’t have been that great for him and maybe I should go in with him for a bit.
Inside the flat he looked blindly around for a minute as though he barely knew where he was. Then his gaze fell on the white orchid and the detached spray of blooms in the glass. Suddenly he swept it wildly off the table. And then he started smashing things. Picking them up and throwing them across the room, yelling and screaming.
I kept back out of the way, but I didn’t try to stop him. I’d felt like that myself often enough, it’s just that girls aren’t allowed to do things like that without being labelled destructive psychopaths.
He grabbed up the orchid spray from the floor and pulled every flower off it and threw them down and stamped on them. And then he grabbed the plant and tore it into pieces, ripping
all the petals off the flowers and pulling the roots apart and stamping on them all. And then he got down on his knees by the mashed pile and picked up some of the bits in his hands as though filled with remorse. But it was too late. The plant wouldn’t survive now. That was it. The end of it. And although I was touched to the core by the desperate grief at the realisation of what he’d done, and was tempted to run out and buy him another one, it would never be the same. It would never be his dad’s one. That one was gone for good.
Tears began to pour down his face. He slammed his fist over and over on the floor. “Why did he have to die?” He sobbed. “Why did he leave us like this? Why? Why? Why couldn’t he at least have seen me driving for Williams first?” He curled up in a ball and sobbed. “He’ll never see me winning a Grand Prix now. He’ll never be there on the podium with me…”
I went over to him and sat down beside him and put my arms round him. I didn’t say anything. I knew from experience that there was nothing to say that would help. Nothing brings the loved one back and there is no comfort. He clung to me and his shoulders heaved. His weight hung heavily on me.
“Come to bed,” I suggested eventually. “You’re exhausted.”
I extricated myself and hauled him up and encouraged him to get into bed. He took everything off except his tee-shirt and boxers and got into bed where he lay on his stomach with his head in his arms, still crying. Then he reached out his arms to me. I sighed. It looked like I was going to have to stay the night. I couldn’t leave him alone in this sort of state. I remembered how Quinn had lain in bed with me all night with his arms around me, the night that Tyler died. It seemed the least I could do for Nish who had no-one else to comfort him.
I took off my trainers and socks and jeans and jacket and slipped into bed with him and put my arms round him. He turned to me and put his arms around me and I hugged him tight. And then he started trying to tug my knickers down. I froze. I pushed at him. He took no notice and began to get his own pants off. My heart was thudding. Ok, so I could slap his face and really fight and bring him to his senses, or I could just lie here and let him do it. He barely knew what he was up to, he was so distressed. I could tell he was barely present. It was all on automatic. I could be anyone, he didn’t care. And I guessed that if I made a fuss and shoved him off, he would come back to himself and burst into tears again and say sorry. He was pulling at my legs to get them apart. Oh fuck it! Why did I even care? If he did it he’d probably roll over and go to sleep at last and I could leave. My cunt wasn’t any use to anyone at the moment. It might as well give someone some comfort. So I brought my knees up and let him do it. Trouble was, I wasn’t physically ready for him and he couldn’t get it in. He shoved and shoved and finally got part way and it really, really hurt. I bit the back of my hand to stop myself shouting out in pain, and it was mercifully all over fairly quickly. He flopped down on me with a groan and lay there heavily on me until I felt I could barely breathe and then I pushed him off. He moved over and lay on his stomach to one side, and then he fell asleep. I extricated myself from the bed. Pulled my clothes back on and left the flat, making sure it was on the latch. Driving home on the bike I felt sore and his cum was dribbling back out. I felt sick. I went to the toilet, wiped and wiped, put clean underwear on and went to bed.
Next morning when I woke up, I felt like something bad had happened but couldn’t immediately remember what. Little Nadia came first to mind. I had a lot of phone calls to make today. When my pee burned on the way out I remembered the other thing. Blast! What had I done? In the light of day it seemed such the wrong decision. I had thought it wouldn’t mean anything, wouldn’t affect anything. But now I realised it had spoiled everything. Our platonic friendship, and our professional relationship at work. I’d have to keep my distance now. How dumb was I? I kept going over and over it. And each time I came to the same conclusion. I should have pushed him off. When my phone started ringing and I saw his name come up, I rejected the call and tossed the phone back down. Then I went out for a run, and afraid I might bump into him on the downs, I got on my bike and went somewhere completely different and just followed a random ‘footpath’ sign. When I got back to the flat and picked up my phone which I’d left there to avoid hearing him ringing, I saw four more missed calls from him. I switched off my phone and used the landline to make my business calls.
First Jo. I reported that I got Nadia home safely, then apologised for so abruptly losing her Cody’s business.
“Oh well, I get the rest of the season off I guess, except when you need me…”
“Zanna will be ecstatic,” I consoled.
“We’ve split up,” she revealed.
I was shocked. “So are you on your own in the flat now?”
She laughed. “No, I’m in your old room and Alex has moved in with Zanna and is doubling up with her. Don’t worry, Eve. It suits me fine. I get to keep Zanna as a friend and she gets to have Alex for orgasms.”
“Right,” I said uncertainly. Jo always sounded so matter of fact, I hoped I could tell if she really wasn’t fine.
“So now you need to decide to what you are going to do about the World Championship,” she said to me, and abruptly rang off.
I looked down at the phone in my hand. I wish she wouldn’t do that, I thought.
Cody’s Dad exclaimed, “Thank God for that!”
I laughed. “Thing is Dave, she’s not going to get any better and she knows it.”
“I knew it would just be a passing phase,” he told me. “But it was only fair to give the girl a chance. Did she sound like she wanted to come back to Bangers?”
“Nah, think she’s gone off driving altogether,” I assessed.
“Even better!” He said cheerfully. “Maybe we can get her to apply for some college courses now.”
“How did her ‘A’ levels go?” I enquired.
“We won’t know till the results come out, but at least we got her through them – with a mixture of bribes and rewards…”
“And the whole Stocks thing gave her a special identity at school,” I agreed. “Gave her a bit of kudos.”
He laughed. “Yeah, she grew in confidence no end. Guess girls can be such bitches can’t they?”
“They sure can,” I said in heartfelt tones.
My call to Mick was the best one. He was touchingly delighted to hear from me and ticked me off for not managing to get enough races in.
I sighed and explained what had been happening this season, what with being sent out to Ferrari in Italy, and now the tight schedule at Williams aligned to a totally different race calendar.
And then I explained the situation with Nadia. He was very positive and didn’t see why not… And he totally got why it had to come from him…
“What could be more perfect than you sponsoring his daughter and her having her father’s name on the car? I’ll source the car for you Mick – but you’ll need to do all the rest for her I’m afraid. She’s going to be good Mick, I’m sure of it.”
“Well, she’s got her father’s blood in her veins,” he agreed.
“She might be the next female World Champion,” I suggested.
“You need to get your arse back into the ring,” Mick berated me. “Because it really ought to be you again.”
“Not this year,” I sighed. “But I’m sure the Ovals haven’t seen the last of me. I hope not anyway.”
At work on Monday I was told I was following bits of engine parts around, observing them being tested to see if they needed changing, watching them being made if they did. At lunch time I was sitting with the mechanics when I could tell from their faces that Nish was behind me. I ignored him.
“Eve, I need to talk to you,” he said. I didn’t want to meet his eyes, and I didn’t want to face him.
“You can see I’m with my team right now,” I blocked.
But Alan jerked his head at me and I knew he was telling me to go with him. So I sighed and picked up my packet of sandwiches and followed Nish outside. We
sat on a low wall in sight of all the windows.
“Why didn’t you answer my phone calls?” Nish asked in an upset tone.
“You know why,” I said, keeping my head turned away.
He stared at me, I could see him out of the corner of my eye. “Did I rape you?” He interrogated urgently. “Please, please tell me that I didn’t rape you!”
“Sssh! Keep your voice down!” I hissed.
His fists were clenched. “I did, didn’t I? Shit, Eve!” He put his head in his hands. “Please forgive me!”
“Nish, please don’t make a spectacle of us. You know everyone in there will be watching.”
He clasped his hands tightly between his knees. “I didn’t ask your permission. I just did it without even thinking. I’m sorry.”
“Ok, Nish, here’s the thing,” I said abruptly, “You didn’t ask my permission. You didn’t care who it was – it could have been anyone. But I could have said no and pushed you off, and I’m sure you would have come to your senses and stopped, but for some insane reason, that is now hard to fathom, I decided to let you go ahead. But immediately afterwards I realised that it was the wrong decision, and I should have stopped you for the sake of our professional working relationship and also our friendship. So what’s done is done, and now we are both going to forget about it and never mention it again – not to each other and certainly not to anyone else. Ok?”
He was silent, his hands still clenched together. Then he looked sideways at me. I knew my tone was brittle and my expression hard. But that’s the only way I could deal with it. I got up and walked back inside.
About three o’clock I got a phone call from Mizo. “You’d better come. After seven laps he crashed through a barrier and he’s curled up here sobbing and I don’t know what to do with him.”
“I’m supposed to be watching this gear change manifold being tested,” I said. Simulator department, I mouthed at the diagnostics technician.
The Way Back Page 9
