The Rookie

Chapter 1

“I meant to ask you, Antoine.” Erik turned to him. “Who was that woman with you in Bahrain?”

He had noticed the woman the minute she walked into the paddock. Tall, self-assured, with clear blue eyes and no fuss about her. At first, he had thought she was a part of one of the media houses there, but she went straight to the Dunham GP garage with Antoine.

“Oh, Ingrid? She’s a new coach.”

“I thought Gaetan was your coach?” Nico asked.

“No, she’s sort of a mental coach. I met her through Daniela at the Aus Open this year. She normally doesn’t take on male clients, but she’s an F1 fan, so she made an exception.”

“And Daniela is ok with this?” Mark asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on, mate,” Mark had a conspiratorial note in his voice. “You had to notice that she’s fucking hot? Plus, why do you need a ‘mental’ coach?” He said, using his fingers to put inverted commas around the mental.

“You think so? Daniela was actually the one who suggested it. Ingrid helped Jessie get back her confidence, and look where she is now in the rankings!”

Antoine didn’t tell the group the impact that the previous year was having on his relationship with Daniela. They had been together for five years now, and this was the first time that his driving was getting in the way of their relationship.

“You know that last year wasn’t your fault. The car was just shit,” Erik added.

“If it was so shit, then why did Ren manage two podiums in the last half of the season?”

Ren Nakamura was a hotshot rookie Japanese driver who had become Antoine’s teammate at Dunham last year. He was currently pulling in a lot of sponsorship deals and was edging closer to becoming the team lead.

“Ok, bad luck then. You can’t do anything about engine failures or whatever else happened to your car,” Erik responded. “I still think a mental coach isn’t necessary. You were looking good at pre-season testing.”

“Ingrid’s work. En plus, two of you already have a title to your name.”

Mark Blake, Erik Svensson’s teammate, had won the Drivers’ Championship with Wentworth Racing two years ago.

A nasty crash last year, which left him with a broken hand, meant that he was out for six crucial weeks, and so he had missed another championship.

Nico Amato, driving for Cavallo, had taken the title that year.

It was only Erik who was missing one but had come second each year for the last three years.

“Speaking of Ingrid, I have a session with her in about an hour, so I should get home.”

“She’s here?” Erik asked.

“No, we’re meeting online. She occasionally travels for clients, but she’s based in London. Coming to the first three races with me, though.”

Erik was left even more intrigued by this ‘mental’ coach.

“Tell her we all say hi!” Mark quipped.

Antoine rolled his eyes and left the guys still bantering about Ingrid.

???

Dr Ingrid Hansdotter was sitting at her home in London.

She didn’t know that she had become a topic of conversation amongst the paddock boys.

To her, they were all boys. She had just turned 33, and none of them was even 30 yet.

In general, she was attracted to older men, so although everyone went on about how gorgeous the new crop of drivers were, she couldn’t imagine dating any of them.

The only one she thought interesting was Erik Svensson, and that wasn’t because of his looks but because he had failed to win a championship.

Ingrid had developed a love of the sport at a young age.

Her Norwegian grandfather had tried his luck at karting and then made it into some junior racing, but even back then, it was an expensive sport, and he chose the engineering side instead.

Having worked for Wentworth Racing, Ingrid’s grandfather had instilled in her a love for the team and racing.

Ingrid didn’t have the brain for figures, and she chose to focus on psychology instead.

It led her to write a thesis on what makes the ‘greatest of all time’.

It’s how she found her way to the WTA and some of her first clients.

She knew Daniela Bila, the Ukrainian tennis star, from a distance but was surprised when she asked to speak with her a few weeks before the Australian Open.

Daniela was starting to climb the rankings, so Ingrid didn’t think she needed help.

“I was actually wondering if you could help my partner, Antoine Hamadou. Do you know him?”

“Of course, I’m a big F1 fan.”

“Oh, then this makes it a bit easier. I’m sure you saw how his season ended. He’s lost all confidence, and it’s impacting everything he does.”

“I assume your relationship, too?”

“Yes! How did you know?”

“It generally does.”

“I just can’t handle him like this. He’s normally so relaxed and cheerful, but he’s grumpy, and you heard his team radios toward the end of the season!”

“Listen, I don’t normally take on male clients, but it’s F1, so I’ll make an exception. I’m happy to have a chat with him. Will he be in Melbourne with you?”

“Oh, thank you, Ingrid! Yes, he will.”

That’s how it started. Ingrid had a reason for not taking on male clients.

She had tried once before, an actor who was struggling to find his purpose again.

Feelings were felt – on both sides – and the paparazzi had spotted them at one of their weekly sessions.

Ingrid had to let go of him as a client and detach herself from any feelings she had for him.

After that, she swore no more male clients.

“How are you doing today?” Ingrid asked Antoine.

“I’m ok. Played padel with some of the guys. They say hi. I told them about you because they asked. I feel a bit better now that they know.”

“That’s good. How do you feel about the season?”

“I’m starting to feel more confident. Talking to them helped too. They said it was the car, not me.”

The conversation went on like this for about an hour.

Antoine Hamadou was not one of those drivers who would win a few races in F1, then disappear to other racing series.

In Ingrid’s opinion, the Frenchman had real potential to win a championship if he were in the right car.

The Dunham had been a middle-of-the-pack car for a while now, with no signs of improving.

It might be the best of the rest this season, but not a championship-winning car.

“Are you ready for Melbourne?”

“I should be asking you that!” Ingrid chuckled.

“We’ll have fun, I promise.”

Ingrid didn’t know what to expect for her first race week with Antoine. This world was all new to her. She knew the sport, but from the outside. Now she was going to be in the thick of it for the next few months.

???

Antoine walked into the paddock with Ingrid a few steps behind.

Even though she had attended the pre-season testing, the cameras and crowds for race week were new to her.

Daniela could only join them the next day as she was still travelling from her tennis tournament.

Ingrid had chosen not to wear the team kit; she wasn’t hired by the team.

Her usual look of a white blouse, jeans, and a Chanel handbag made her look like one of the WAGs.

One of the photographers approached her and asked who she was.

She unintentionally ignored him. Antoine stopped to greet Erik and introduced Ingrid.

Both of them felt they held their handshake a little longer than they should have. Antoine looked at Erik.

“Do you know each other?” He asked Erik.

“No, I just saw Ingrid at pre-season testing. Nice to meet you officially.” He quickly let go of her hand. “Antoine told us about you the other day.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Ingrid responded.

She took in the handsome Swede. He was a bit tall for F1, with sandy-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

A few tattoos peeked out from under his midnight-blue and light-grey team T-shirt.

She understood why he was the subject of so much F1 fanfic.

Ingrid was more interested in the fact that he had missed out on winning the championship for three consecutive years.

He had a car that could do it and the talent to make it happen. Something else was missing.

“How did media day go for you?” Antoine asked.

“Same shit. Are you finally going to win the championship this year?” He said in a mocking tone. “And you?”

“Just asking about the state of the car and reflecting on pre-season testing. I got it easy.” He laughed.

Ingrid was keeping herself at a distance as they spoke. She didn’t want to intrude. This wasn’t her world. She was there for Antoine, and Antoine only.

“Antoine,” Gaetan interrupted him, “we have to go.”

Off they all went to the garage for their different coaching sessions.

It was Free Practice 1. Ingrid had done her best to get Antoine in the right headspace.

As Antoine got into the car, he took a breath and focused on the job at hand.

All he could do was have faith in the car that it wasn’t going to bomb out like it did last year.

Nakamura had already left the garage. Remember, clear and calm communication with Bonnie, he said to himself.

Another reason Ingrid had been happy to take on this client was that Antoine was one of the few drivers to have a female race engineer.

She looked on from the back of the garage as he pulled out into the pit lane and then onto the track.

Her job was done for now. By the end of FP1, Antoine was in 4th place.

When Ingrid had an opportunity to speak to him after all the quick debriefs, she asked him how it felt.

“Ah, ma Ingride, I’m so glad we found you. I did everything you said. It felt so good to be on track!” He gave her a big hug. “I hope Daniela saw.”

“She would be so proud of you!” Ingrid returned his embrace.