Chasing Daisy

jittery.
    ‘Luis, she can’t believe everything she reads. Maybe she should just avoid the tabloids like I do.’
    He nods, clearly on edge.
    I sigh. I hate seeing him like this. I want to try to make it better. ‘I’m sorry I ran away from you after the funeral.’
    ‘It’s okay.’
    ‘I wasn’t myself, you know?’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘Luis, please!’ I just want him to return to normal. I can’t handle this!
    ‘What? What? It’s okay,’ he adds absent-mindedly. Even his voice sounds strange.
    ‘You have to let it go,’ I plead. ‘You have to let him go.’ My eyes well up again as he turns to look at me.
    ‘Have you let him go?’
    We stare at each other for a long while before I shake my head. He looks away again. ‘No. I didn’t think so.’
    ‘Are the press still giving you a hard time?’ I ask after a moment.
    ‘It’s not so bad.’
    ‘Good. They’ll lay off soon.’
    ‘I didn’t mean to win the race,’ he says suddenly in a detached voice.
    ‘What race? The one that. . . Silverstone?’
    He nods. ‘I didn’t know the accident was as bad as that.’
    ‘I know. I’m sure everyone understands.’
    ‘No, they don’t.’ He slowly shakes his head. ‘I don’t know if I can do this anymore.’
    I grab his hand again and clutch it tightly. ‘Yes, you can,’ I tell him fervently. ‘Yes, you can. You’re a brilliant racing driver. They were comparing you to Ayrton Senna, for Christ’s sake!’
    ‘They’re not anymore.’
    ‘Well, they will be again. You just have to get back on your feet, get back behind the wheel. You said you wanted to win a race for Will, well do it!’
    He looks at me in surprise. ‘You heard about that?’
    I nod. ‘I saw you on the telly in America.’
    ‘Huh.’ He looks away again. ‘I didn’t do a very good job of it.’
    ‘No, well, don’t worry,’ I say lamely, before clutching his hand fiercely once more. ‘You can do it now. Tomorrow!’
    ‘From twelfth?’ He gives me a wry look, and for the first time I get a glimpse of the Luis I used to know.
    ‘Well, maybe not win it, but you know, finish it. Or something. I don’t know! Just stop being such a lame-arse and get out there. I’ll be proud of you.’
    He grins at me and squeezes my hand, then almost instantly snatches his away and covers his face as his body starts to shake with sobs.
    ‘Oh, Luis . . .’ I rub his back, feeling utterly mortified. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ I rest my head on his shoulder and just stay there for a while, waiting for him to calm down. Eventually he sits up and composes himself, brushing his tears away.
    ‘You’d better go,’ he says morosely. ‘I need to get to bed.’
    I stand up unsteadily. I don’t know if I’ve made it worse by coming here. He follows me to the door and pulls it open. I step out onto the landing and turn around.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry for all of this. I don’t know . . .’ I hesitate. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have come back.’
    ‘No,’ he says fervently, meeting my eyes. ‘That’s not true. I’m glad you’re back.’ And then his face crumbles again and he quickly closes the door in my face.

 
Chapter 24
     
    I don’t tell Holly about my visit to see Luis. She stayed in Simon’s room anyway, so the first I see of her is in the morning when I’m putting on my team uniform. I had terrible nightmares last night, about a man or a monster hunting me down. I kept waking up in cold sweats, trying to tell myself it was just a dream, but then I’d fall straight back into it again. Needless to say, I’m in a vile mood today.
    Luis turns up at ten o’clock and goes straight up to his room. I’m in the kitchen looking out, but he doesn’t see me, just keeps his head down and walks quickly. I suppose he’s feeling embarrassed about losing it in front of me. . .
    To hell with this! I go to the serving table and grab a plate, loading it up with bacon and eggs.
    ‘What are you doing?’ Holly asks, frowning.
    ‘Don’t try to stop me,’ I reply, coming out from behind the table and walking towards the stairs.
    ‘Daisy!’ she calls in dismay, but I ignore her.
    At the top of the stairs I inadvertently glance to my right and see that the door to Will’s one-time driver’s room has been left open. I halt in my tracks and stare inside. There’s a black team carry case, identical to Will’s – identical to all of ours – resting on the table. I feel like the blood is literally draining from