FIVE
GIO ISN’T GOING TO win. Or so Ava told me yesterday evening. For someone who supposedly supports Quezada, I wasn’t expecting her to look so crushed. Apparently during qualifying one of the Gold Dart drivers had an accident, which led to debris on the track and a yellow flag, which, due to a radio glitch combined with poor visibility, Gio failed to notice in time. Long story short, she said, it’s unlikely that he’ll end up in the points, let alone on the podium, and he’ll probably be unemployed by the end of the day.
I’m more disappointed than I expected to be. I’ve thought about his offer pretty much constantly since leaving Fraser Headquarters, going back and forth over the pros and cons. (Pros: travel and fun. Cons: lying to everyone and the risk of being found out.) Over the past few days, however, I’ve been aware of excitement edging ahead of conscience because how harmful a lie would it be, really? Only now it seems my fake girlfriend career is over before I’ve even made up my mind. And yet here I still am, hurrying to collect a takeaway order just so I can watch the race and wonder about what might have been …
‘Has it started yet?’ I fling my coat off as I sprint through the front door. I’ve never been remotely interested in watching a race before, but now I feel invested, like it’s the women’s World Cup final all over again. ‘Have I missed anything?’
‘You’re just in time. They’re still on the formation lap.’ Ava waves me frantically across to the sofa. ‘What took you so long? Empire House is literally two minutes away!’
‘The queue was longer than usual. So what’s going on? Why are the cars all zigzagging across the track like that?’
‘They’re heating up their tyres.’
‘Oh. And why are they stopping now?’
‘Because they’re getting into their starting positions.’ She gives me an exasperated look as I drop the bag of food on to the coffee table. ‘You really haven’t paid any attention before, have you?’
‘Not really. Sorry.’ I tear the bag of prawn crackers open. ‘So this is the actual Grand Prix, right? Because you seem to have been watching cars whizz round a track all week.’
‘Only the past three days, and yes, this is it. The other days were practice and qualifying and a sprint race.’
‘Where’s Gio? There are so many cars.’
‘There are twenty-two.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘OK, let’s quickly go over the basics. There are eleven teams, each with two drivers. Right now, Jaxon Marr is on pole for Quezada, Farron is second for Fraser, and then Shimizu, Marr’s teammate, is third. Gio’s in fourteenth place.’ She points. ‘Right there.’
‘Where?’
‘The blue-and-silver car in the middle.’
‘So basically he just needs to overtake thirteen cars to win?’
She gives me an incredulous look. ‘Right. It’s that easy. It’s not like they’re thirteen drivers at the peak of their careers in the most highly sophisticated cars in the world. Montreal has a tricky start, too. There’s a left turn at the end of the post straight, followed by a quick right.’
‘And how many laps are there?’
‘It’s different for each circuit. The minimum distance is one hundred and ninety miles, except in Monaco, which means the number of laps varies. Canada has seventy.’
‘ Seventy? How long will that take?’
‘Usually an hour and a half to two hours. Races aren’t allowed to go any longer than that.’ She stiffens suddenly. ‘Here we go.’
One by one, a row of lights above the start line turns red, until all five are illuminated. They stay like that for several seconds, as if the race organizers are deliberately prolonging the tension, before they go out altogether. Then tyres squeal, engines roar and twenty-two cars surge ahead at once.
‘This is the dangerous part.’ Ava sits forward, as the commentator’s voice rises with excitement. ‘F1 cars can go from zero to sixty in under three seconds and they’re closer at the start than at any other point in the race.’
I shuffle on to the edge of my seat too. The cars are packed together, charging down the straight towards the first turn like a swarm of metal wasps. I wish Gio’s was a brighter colour so it would be easier to keep my eyes on him. Lime green maybe, or neon pink. Quezada definitely has the advantage in that regard because their yellow cars are clearly visible.
I screw my eyes up, trying to focus. The pack is heading into the third turn when the maroon-coloured car in fourth place suddenly dives between Farron and Shimizu, trying to push its way through, but since neither of them give way, all three end up making contact. The car in second veers sideways into a wall of tyres, while the remaining two lock wheels and start spinning round each other, sending bits flying all over the track. To make things even worse, the accident causes a chain reaction, dragging the cars in fifth and sixth place into the melee. One of them ricochets off a wheel and follows the second car into the wall, while the other limps on with a tyre in shreds. It’s complete chaos.
‘Red flag!’ the commentator shrieks, as the rest of the cars slow down to pass by. ‘Surely that has to be a red flag!’
‘Are they stopping the race?’ I feel slightly queasy at the sight of all the damage, though thankfully none of the drivers in the affected cars seem to be injured. Amazingly, they’re already climbing out of their cockpits. Meanwhile, the other car, the one with the shredded tyre, is struggling on at the back of the grid.
‘It looks like it.’ Ava doesn’t take her eyes from the screen. ‘But don’t worry – it’s only temporary while the marshals clear up the mess. The other cars are past the first sector line, so they’ll restart in the same positions they’re in now.’
‘What about the ones involved in the accident? Can they restart?’
‘I doubt it. They look too badly damaged. What a shame for Farron.’
‘Where’s Gio?’
‘He’s …’ She counts. ‘Sixth! He’s gone up eight places.’
‘Eight?’ I wrinkle my brow. ‘But that doesn’t make sense. Only five cars were damaged.’
‘He must have passed the others. Look!’ She waves at the screen where the start is now being replayed in slow motion. According to the commentator, Gio got away quicker than the car in front of him, then overtook the next by darting down the outside of turn one, which put him on the inside line for turn two.
‘Phew!’ I exhale heavily as the remaining cars pull into the pits. ‘This is more stressful than I realized.’
‘It can be.’ Ava starts tucking into her beef in black bean sauce while the track gets cleaned up in the background. ‘So, Gio must have made a big impression on your date for you to be this invested. Have you made up your mind about seeing him again yet?’
‘No.’ I reach for my chicken and cashew nuts. I gave her a highly edited account of our ‘date’, focusing heavily on the quality of the cinnamon bun and the diamanté effect of the mechanics’ overalls before casually mentioning the fact that he wants to see me again. The result is that she’s asked me this question at least five times a day for the past six days. Living with her is giving me a taste of what media attention might be like, but I can’t answer her, not until after this race. There’s no point until I know whether Gio’s keeping his job or not.
‘You’re crazy. He’s gorgeous, rich and one of the best drivers in the world. What more do you want?’ She glances sideways at me. ‘You know, a lot of my podcast subscribers have been asking about you. My numbers have gone through the roof. That interview was such a boost.’
‘That’s nice.’ I smile because she works so hard and she deserves success, even if it feels slightly creepy that a bunch of random podcast followers are interested in me. I’m going to miss spending time with her this summer. Her internship starts tomorrow and it sounds pretty full-on – starting early and finishing late. Meanwhile, I’ll be selling soap to tourists and twiddling my thumbs in the evenings. I need a hobby, like macra-weaving or painting book spines or fake-dating a Formula 1 driver.
‘They’re ready to restart,’ Ava declares, just as we’re finishing our meals. ‘It looks like they’re going out for another formation lap.’
‘Another start?’ I groan. ‘I’m not sure my nerves can stand it.’
She gives me a sympathetic look. ‘Gio knows what he’s doing. Although you seem to care a lot for someone who hasn’t made up her mind yet.’
‘Fine.’ As if a seventy-lap race isn’t tense enough, I decide to up the ante. ‘I’ll agree to a second date, if Gio gets on to the podium.’
‘Really?’ She clasps her hands excitedly.
‘Yes.’ I nod firmly. Because even if Gio doesn’t win, if he achieves that, surely there’s no way that Fraser will fire him? ‘But don’t get your hopes up. He’s only in sixth, right?’
‘Sixth for now . There’s a long way to go.’
I settle back against the sofa cushions as the race restarts, thankfully without any more drama. Nobody switches positions and Jaxon Marr charges away ahead of the field.
By the end of the second lap, however, Gio is putting steady pressure on the car in front of him, according to Ava, who’s basically the commentator now. It tries to block, swerving to the left and braking late, but Gio’s car dives round the outside and then darts ahead.
‘Fifth!’ She stamps her feet.
‘Still not the podium,’ I say, but it’s like he hears me because he overtakes the next car on the straight. They’re so close, their wheels almost seem to be touching, before Gio edges past.
‘Fourth!’ Ava squeals.
‘Jaxon Marr is still in the lead, followed by Louis Cooper for Chiltern in second and Hugo Zaragoza for Gold Dart in third!’ the commentator announces, but Gio is close behind, catching up like his car is equipped with an extra battery pack.
Things seem to go wrong when Gio pulls into the pit-stop to change tyres. He falls back into sixth place, but then other cars start pitting too, and he’s climbing the rankings again. Fifth, fourth, then … Zaragoza gets a new set of tyres and heads back down the pit lane, but Gio is already on the straight. They’re neck and neck, almost at the same point, but Zaragoza has to stick to a speed limit in the pit lane, and Gio doesn’t.
‘He’s going to pass him!’ Ava grips my arm.
I hold my breath as Gio zooms past a split second before Zaragoza can rejoin the race track.
‘Yes!’ Ava punches the air. ‘He’s moved into third! You’re going on another date with him!’
‘Not necessarily,’ I protest. ‘The race isn’t over yet.’
But it is. Jaxon and Cooper hold their positions, with Gio in third, fighting off Zaragoza for the remainder of the race. It seems to take forever, but eventually he passes the finish line.
‘Message him!’ Ava leaps to her feet in victory.
‘What?’ Suddenly I’m panicking about what I’ve just agreed to.
‘Message him right now. You said he gave you his private number.’
‘Ava, I think he’s a little busy right now.’
‘That doesn’t matter. He’ll get the message later. Do it, do it, do it.’
‘Argh!’ I unlock my phone and stare at the screen. ‘What do I say?’
‘Say congratulations and something a bit sexy like, looking forward to celebrating with you .’
‘I’m not saying that.’
‘Then say it was the best race you’ve ever watched. He’s not to know it’s also your first.’
‘He might guess.’ I knit my brow and then type.
Hi. It’s Maisie. That was amazing. Congrats.
‘What have you put?’ Ava peers over my shoulder as I hit send and my heart rate skyrockets. ‘Not bad. Can I tell my subscribers you’re going on another date?’
‘No! What if he’s changed his mind? That would be so embarrassing.’ My panic intensifies because what if he actually has? What if I was just one of several potential fake girlfriends and another candidate has already agreed? What if I’ve missed my chance? I don’t want to get my hopes up for the summer and then have them crushed again the way they were in Dr Meyer’s office.
‘Don’t be silly. Why would he change his mind?’ Ava sits down again as the top three drivers get out of their cars and start hugging and fist-bumping each other while the crowd roars around them. Then they get weighed – so Ava tells me – and then head into a waiting room, where they sit down and start chatting like nothing out of the ordinary has just happened.
‘I might run a bath,’ I say, stretching my arms above my head.
‘What about the podium?’ Ava swivels towards me in surprise. ‘And the wash-up? All the analysis and commentary?’
‘I think I’ve watched about as much F1 as my brain can cope with for now.’ I pile our plates by the sink and head for the door. The truth is, now that I’ve texted Gio I need to get away from the television so I can think about something else, although it’s not easy with the Canadian and Spanish national anthems playing in the background.
‘ Maisie! ’ I hear Ava shout just as I’m about to step into the bath.
‘What?’ I grab a towel and stick my head back round the door.
‘They’re interviewing him!’
I look in the direction of her frantic waving. Gio is talking to the camera, looking hot and sweaty and, annoyingly, very attractive, as he answers questions about the race. How does it feel to be back on the podium? Amazing. How are things with Fraser? We’ve had a lot of discussions and we’re in a good place. Are you going to win the championship this year? I’m going to try.
‘There’s Izabel!’ Ava points again, as the interviewer thanks him for his time. Sure enough, I recognize Gio’s assistant in the background of the shot. As we watch, she steps forward and hands him something.
Five seconds later, my phone vibrates on the coffee table.
I look from one screen to the other and then back again. Is he seriously texting me right now? The interviewer has moved on to Jaxon Marr, but Gio is still visible to one side.
‘No way! Is that him?’ Ava looks stunned.
You watched the race? I’m honoured.
I pick my phone up and text back.
I did. It was kind of exciting, I wasn’t even tempted to watch cat videos.
My fingers hover over the keys for a few seconds before I continue.
If your offer still stands, I’d like another business meeting.
He replies instantly.
I’d like that too. What’s your favourite pizza?
Hawaiian.
Seriously?
Yes! Pineapple belongs.
Just when you think you’re getting to know a person … Wednesday?
‘What. Is. Going. On?’ Ava looks like she’s about to burst with excitement.
Ava wants to know if she can tell her subscribers about this?
It’s up to you.
OK.
OK?
OK.
I put my phone away. I still haven’t officially agreed to his scheme, but we both know I just did. Back on the television screen, Gio looks straight at the camera and winks.