Chapter 7 #3
It was Ingrid’s first race weekend not by Antoine’s side, and she was concerned about how this would work out.
She was so used to informal discussions over dinner or breakfast or just after practice sessions.
They stuck to their formal times for this GP weekend.
It felt odd. It wasn’t just the work that she was missing.
She missed the roar of engines starting up, the smell and buzz of the garage, being around the team, even the travel – but only a small part of her on that one.
Mark was back in the picture, and Ingrid was keeping an eye on his driving.
Antoine didn’t seem too worried after the apology.
Of course, Ingrid was missing being with Erik, too.
“Sending a voice note for your weekend.
Hand on chest, kiss, don’t crash”
Antoine had a disappointing qualifying. He only managed P6, ahead of Nakamura but behind cars that were usually slower than him. Erik qualified P2 with Mark on pole. Antoine called her as soon as he could.
“What happened? You seemed so calm before quali?”
“Fucking Mark. He got into my head. He said something about looking for another fight or punch or something like that.”
“Antoine, you have to ignore him. He’s losing his mind, and he’s going to lose his seat. I’ll bet good money that he’ll be out of his seat, and you’ll be in it before the summer break. The only way that happens is if you stay calm and out of his nonsense.”
“Thanks, Ingie, I feel much better.”
Ingrid was starting to think that she might have to go to Saudi Arabia for the next one, but she decided to wait for the race. Oliver came over for race day so they could finally watch one together this season.
“Do you think your man is going to win it?”
“Antoine?” She asked in shock.
“No, Sister, your boyfriend.”
“He isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Well, he certainly acts like it. I see he’s calling right now.”
Ingrid answered.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready?”
“I’m ready, just wanted to hear your voice. I have a camera in my face right now, don’t I?”
“Yes, you do.”
He put his hand to his chest, puckered his lips like a kiss, and mouthed something.
“Well done, now the whole world is going to be trying to figure that out,” she responded. “I do too. Now, don’t crash.”
She put the phone down.
“Do you two have a secret code for I love you already?” Oliver asked, shocked.
“First time.” Ingrid brushed it off as if it were nothing, but she knew things were moving too quickly for her brain to catch up.
“And you say he isn’t your boyfriend…”
The formation lap started. Ingrid was holding Oliver’s hand for lights out.
She wasn’t used to this. It was no longer watching at home as a fan.
She had a few people she cared about out on track now.
The lights went out, and Erik took the lead from Mark.
He came back at him at the first corner, hitting him in the side so that Erik’s car crashed into the barriers.
There was an immediate safety car, then a red flag to recover the car.
Antoine had been fine. Erik eventually came over the radio to say he was ok.
Ingrid had been squeezing Oliver’s hand so tightly until that moment that she left nail marks.
“Fucking Mark,” she muttered.
“Are you ok?” Oliver asked. She was white as a sheet.
Ingrid looked at him and took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m fine now.” Oliver took her into a big hug. “Really, it’s ok, Oli. He’s ok. How many times have we watched drivers crash in races?”
“Yes, but it’s different now.” Oliver started looking at his phone. “They’re saying it looks like Mark deliberately drove into Erik’s car!”
“Yes, because he probably did.”
“How are you staying so calm about all of this, Sister?” He exclaimed.
“There isn’t anything I can do right now.”
She shrugged her shoulders, lit a cigarette, and leaned back on the couch to continue watching the race. They kept showing the replay of the car being hit, spinning, and heading into the TecPro barriers. With every replay, it looked like Mark had deliberately done it.
Her phone eventually rang.
“See what happens – ow, Jimmy, please, can you not press so hard there – see what happens when you aren’t here?” Erik said on the other side.
“Not my fault that Mark is an idiot.” She took a drag of her smoke. “How are you feeling?”
“A couple of bruised ribs, but I should be fine. Would be better if you were here.”
“Well, I’m not. Otherwise, you’d be sent to bed right now, and on your own. Oliver thinks I’m being too calm about all this.”
“Is he there? Put him on speakerphone.” Ingrid did as he asked. “Oli, you know your sister would make a good driver’s wife. I was expecting tears and nonsense. She’s behaving just as she should, giving me shit calmly.” He laughed.
“I’m glad you think this is so funny!” Oliver replied. “I’m relieved you’re OK, though, Rik!”
Ingrid rose from the couch, took her phone, and walked away.
“Mark has completely lost it. I really am glad that you’re OK. I have to get back to watching Antoine now. I’ll speak to you later.”
Ingrid returned to the couch, and relief washed over her. She had remained calm, but she’d been worried that Erik had been hurt worse than a few bruised ribs.
“Did you hear him call you a wife? You’ve been upgraded from a non-girlfriend in just one day!” Oliver laughed, and she threw a cushion at him.
“Oh, hush, and let’s finish watching this race. Thank fuck Mark got a penalty. That puts Antoine up to P3 for now.”
It was another podium finish for Antoine. She wished she could be there to celebrate with him. He had kept away from Mark’s mess as she had told him to do.