Chapter 36
Leesa
We rolled over the finish line of the roughest of races on a miserable day with a groan in unison. I’d punctured; Doortje had skidded out while trying to avoid street furniture and Lori had been left with no team support for her doomed late attack.
It was a day to forget, to wash away in the Flanders gloom.
Our DS Alf gave us commiserating hugs as he ushered us to the warm-down bikes, protected from the drizzle by an awning. I was longing for a shower, but I had to stay warm in the horrible weather until then.
‘What the fuck?’ Lori was on her warm-down bike already, but she wasn’t pedalling. ‘Someone put a Chris Hemsworth sticker on my bike.’
‘Is it supposed to warm you up?’ Doortje suggested with a laugh as she peered at the bike set up for her. ‘Ha! I’ve got Scarlett Johansson! Top choice.’
On the other bikes we found Harry Styles, Orlando Bloom and Idris Elba and I was kind of disappointed when one of the other girls got the Paul Rudd sticker. The swannies had obviously been busy preparing to cheer us up on our ignoble return to the team bus.
‘Who’ve you got, Leesa?’ Doortje called out as I approached the bike with my specs, set up at the end of the line.
I peeked at the stem and that warmth of anticipation dissipated in an instant. ‘Hmm,’ I began, glancing around for a hidden camera, but not seeing anything. Whether this was being recorded or not, I suspected who was behind this and it wasn’t the swannies.
Did he think I was an easy target? Last time the men’s and women’s teams had been in the same city, he’d frozen all of our toothbrushes in clumps of ice while we were racing, but this felt… personal.
‘What?’ Lori prompted.
Just as I was getting up on the bike, I caught a hint of movement at the door of the bus. He was watching, the jackass.
Straightening as my legs started spinning through the warm-down, I raised my voice as I said with as much carelessness as I could muster, ‘I have the unmatched Hollywood legend… Steve Buscemi.’