TWENTY-THREE
I’M IN THE KITCHEN, getting a head start on my reading for next term, when Izabel calls from Singapore to say there was a glitch with the team radio in practice. It meant that Gio didn’t get a message about debris on the track and his car barrel-rolled into a barrier. Ava’s at work and I can’t bear to watch the replay by myself, so instead I sit at the kitchen table, stomach roiling, and wait for more news.
I only spoke to Gio this morning. He was in a positive mood, despite coming second in the Azerbaijan Grand Prix. Unfortunately, Farron took first, which put him back in the championship lead, but Gio seemed confident of winning this time. Personally, I was just getting excited that he was finally coming home in a few days.
Now I feel like somebody has shaken me so I don’t know which way is up any more. When I agreed to fake-date Gio, it crossed my mind that accidents could happen, but I told myself I could handle it. Only now that I’m following my heart, it turns out I can’t. I’m nowhere near handling anything. I feel sick and shaky and hot and cold, but mostly downright terrified.
‘He’s OK,’ Izabel says when she calls back ten minutes later. ‘He has a few bruises and he’s hurt his ankle, so they’ve taken him to hospital to be safe, but there doesn’t seem to be any concussion.’
‘That’s such a relief.’ I close my eyes and rest my head on the table.
‘Should I arrange a flight?’ she goes on. ‘I’m sure Gio would love to see you.’
I freeze because I don’t know how to answer. Now that I know he’s OK, I ought to feel calmer, but for some reason I’m still panicky. The thought of actually seeing him makes my heart race and my limbs shiver uncontrollably, like I’m in shock. Besides, it must be nine in the evening local time, so even if I leave right now I wouldn’t get there for almost twenty-four hours. By that time qualifying would probably already be over and Gio would be getting an early night before the race. In all likelihood, I wouldn’t get to spend any time with him until I had to come home again.
‘Maybe I should just speak to him?’ I suggest. ‘I mean, I’m not sure what help I could be. He might want to focus on the race.’
‘Maisie, between you and me, I think he’s about to need all the support he can get. There’s a good chance …’ Izabel stops talking abruptly, as other voices get louder in the background. ‘So I’ll see what I can arrange and get back to you,’ she finishes, her tone bright and chirpy again.
‘Um, OK,’ I agree because it seems weird to refuse. ‘Thanks.’
‘Great! I’ll message you the details.’
I call Ava, who offers to come home straight away and give me a hug, but I tell her there isn’t time because I have to leave. I’ve barely packed a backpack before a car arrives.
Four hours later, I’m in the air, on my way to Singapore.
I plug in my headphones and pick a random film, watching it through twice without the faintest idea of what it’s about, and I can’t seem to eat or sleep either. I’m too busy trying to understand how I’m feeling. My entire reaction to the news of Gio’s accident seems too extreme, like my feelings are deeper than I realized, which they can’t be. It’s definitely too soon for me to be in love with him. It’s just not possible. Is it?
By the time I arrive in Singapore, I’m hungry and tired but in a detached kind of way, like my mind is running ahead of me, watching my body from a distance.
‘Maisie!’ Izabel meets me at the airport. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. Do you have any luggage?’
‘No, I just brought a backpack. Thanks for arranging everything.’ I try to smile, but my face feels stiff. ‘You didn’t have to come and meet me.’
‘Yes, I did. Come on, I have a car waiting. Gio’s been discharged.’
‘That’s good.’ I wait for my panic to dissipate, but it only eases slightly. ‘Does that mean he was OK for qualifying?’
‘Not exactly.’ Her expression wavers. ‘He hurt one of his ankles pretty badly. It’s not broken, but it’s enough to make braking difficult.’ She ushers me into a car. ‘One of the reserve drivers took his place.’
‘You mean, Gio’s out of the race?’
‘Yes, but he won’t accept it.’ She slides in beside me. ‘He’s at the track medical centre right now trying to persuade them to declare him fit to drive. He says he’ll start at the back of the grid if he has to, but if he can’t brake properly …’ She lets the sentence trail away.
We drive past the track, with its giant ferris wheel, illuminated by thousands of floodlights. It looks incredible, but I’m still too detached to appreciate the scene properly. When we reach the medical centre, I can hear raised voices coming from inside. I should probably take that as a sign not to go in yet, like Izabel, who stays in the corridor, but weirdly, after resisting the idea of coming at all, I’m seized with a sense of urgency. I need to see for myself that Gio’s all right.
I push the door open to find him sitting on the edge of a bed. Physically, he looks OK. I can’t see any bruises or obvious bandages. Only his expression is absolutely livid. Meanwhile, Mark is standing beside him, also looking furious, while Bo hovers awkwardly in a corner.
‘Maisie.’ Gio’s face softens when he sees me.
‘Hey.’ I drop my backpack by the door and walk towards him, though the atmosphere is so tense it’s like pushing my way through treacle. I stop an arm’s length away. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘A little beaten up, but I’m fine. Everyone’s overreacting.’
I follow his gaze back to Mark, who visibly stiffens.
‘If the medical team won’t clear you, you can’t drive. End of discussion.’
‘Then get a third opinion.’ Gio’s jaw tightens again. ‘If it’s an insurance thing, I’ll sign something.’
‘It’s not an insurance thing, Gio, it’s a safety thing.’ Mark pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. ‘That means safety for everyone, not just you.’
‘It’s a slightly sprained ankle. Bo, tell him.’
Bo shuffles his feet. ‘I’m sorry, Gio, but I’m with Mark on this. You need to rest and recover.’
‘What I need is to race tomorrow – you know that. If Luc gets points …’
‘Then he’ll be even further ahead of you in the championship, we know. Some things are more important than winning.’
‘Not for me.’
‘You can miss a race and still be in contention for the championship.’
‘But I’ll lose my advantage! Fuck!’ Gio curls his hands into fists, his expression getting even more thunderous. ‘This should be my decision!’
‘Are you the team principal now?’ Mark’s tone holds a warning, but Gio ignores it. I take another step towards him, wanting to do something, to stop him unravelling, but I don’t know how.
‘This is what you want, isn’t it, for Farron to win before he retires?’ Gio’s tone turns accusing. ‘That’s why you’re doing this. You’ve been on his side all along.’
‘Gio, I’m going to try and forget you said that.’ Mark’s chin jerks up like he’s been slapped. ‘But just so we’re clear, if you even think about stepping foot in the paddock tomorrow, you’re fired. Now I’m leaving, before we both say something we regret.’ He gives me a weary look on the way out. ‘Don’t bother trying to talk any sense into him. He’s not ready to hear it.’
I nod, exchanging a sympathetic look with Bo as he follows Mark out of the door, and I sit down beside Gio on the edge of the bed. Now I can see he’s really all right, my body seems to be catching up with my mind all of a sudden. It’s kind of disorientating, like I’ve been running on adrenaline for the past twenty-four hours and now my tank is completely empty.
‘This is bullshit.’ Gio’s face is still flushed. ‘I don’t even have a concussion.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’ I slide my fingers through his and squeeze.
‘It’s so good to see you.’ He holds my hand tight. ‘Thank you for coming all this way. Say something bad about Mark for me?’
I shake my head. I can’t insult Mark for trying to protect him. ‘You scared me.’
‘The accident looked worse than it was.’
‘I haven’t watched it.’
‘It wouldn’t be so bad if it were my fault, but it was the radio.’
‘I know. Izabel told me.’ I scrunch my face up sympathetically, though I’m distracted by the sight of so much medical equipment. All the tubes and white surfaces remind me of visiting my mother in hospital. They make my skin prickle.
‘The doctors know what they’re doing,’ I murmur, just like my dad used to tell me, even though, as it turned out, what they were doing wasn’t enough …
‘But I know my own body.’ Gio gives me a hard look. ‘It’s bad enough that everyone else is ganging up on me. Don’t you start too.’
‘I’m not ganging up on you.’ I frown, jolted back to the present. Mark is right – I shouldn’t try to reason with him – only I keep on talking. ‘But if the doctors say you can’t drive, then you have to accept it. You can’t be out there, taking risks, when you’re injured.’
‘Formula 1 is all about taking risks.’
‘Calculated ones, not reckless ones.’
‘So now you think I’m reckless?’ He drops my hand. ‘Right, I forgot, you know all about my mind, don’t you? I told you before, I don’t want to be analysed.’
‘I’m not trying to analyse you, Gio, although maybe you should talk to Daphne. I know how much you want to prove yourself, but Bo’s right – there are more important things than winning.’
‘You would say that.’
I flinch at the contempt in his voice. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You’re the psychology student. Work it out.’
‘Gio, I’m only saying this because I don’t want you to get hurt.’
‘Are you? Or do you want me to be just like you, overthinking everything?’ He makes a scornful sound. ‘Better to be reckless than so afraid of losing I won’t even try.’
‘Excuse me?’ I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach.
‘I think you want me to give up because that’s what you did. Because it’s safer that way.’ His gaze wanders over my face. ‘You know, I’ve seen your stats and they were really impressive. I’ve seen how competitive you are too. You could have had an amazing career and instead you walked away.’ His lip curls. ‘So all I can think is that you were looking for a reason to give up and take the easy path. Maybe that’s why you washed out in the first place. You couldn’t take the pressure. But I can, and I don’t need advice from someone who DNFs at the first hurdle.’
I’m on my feet before he’s finished talking. I know he’s lashing out because he’s upset, analysing me as a form of revenge, but I didn’t fly halfway across the world to be insulted. He just aimed straight at my weak spot and it hurts more than I ever could have imagined.
‘I’m leaving.’ I take a step away from the bed towards the door. I need to get out of here.
‘Right. Leave, run away when things get hard!’ he calls after me. ‘I don’t know why I expected you to understand.’
‘You know what, Gio?’ I spin round again, as all of the pent-up panic and tension I’ve been feeling erupts suddenly. ‘I came here because I was worried about you, because I care about you, not so you could take your anger out on me! And not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’t wash out on purpose. The day of my accident was the second-worst day of my life, but I didn’t have a whole team full of people supporting me or caring about me. I had my dad, who could only come to the hospital at visiting times, and an overworked counsellor I could only see for two weeks, and the rest of the time I was lonely and devastated and I wanted my mum so badly, but she was gone and I still cried for her every single day.’
‘Maisie …’ Gio’s face looks frozen.
‘Yes, I gave up!’ I interrupt him because now that I’ve started I can’t stop. ‘Because my brain wouldn’t let me cycle any more, because it was too much, after everything else, to pick myself up and try again, and then possibly again, because there was no guarantee I wouldn’t have another accident later on, and I didn’t want to have to get over anything else!’ I throw my arms out to the sides. ‘Maybe I am afraid of losing, but I chose the safe path because it felt like the only way to stay sane, and it’s taken me this long to feel like I can get out of my head and start taking risks again, but for you to sit there and accuse me of running away, like you have even the slightest idea about all of that …’
My voice breaks on a sob, but I force the tears back. I can hear an alarm bell ringing in my head, warning me to stop, but I can’t. I want to hurt him the way he’s just hurt me. ‘You know, I might be messed up, but some things really are more important than winning.’ I pause briefly, summoning as much hurt and pain and fury into my voice as I can before hurling them at him. ‘Some of us don’t get a chance to live up to our father’s legacies, let alone exceed them! Only you wouldn’t know that because you’ve been handed your whole career on a plate!’ I stiffen my shoulders, as Gio recoils. ‘The press were right in the first place. You’re nothing more than an entitled rich boy who thinks he deserves a place in the history books because of who his dad is. So fuck you, Gio! Fuck you and your car! I hope Farron wins the championship!’