Chasing Daisy

during a pit stop when a mechanic for Emilio Rizzo in third place has a problem with the refuelling rig. By the time Holly and I reluctantly return to the hospitality area, Will and Luis are running second and third. There’s a real buzz amongst the team and its guests, and Holly and I keep stopping to watch the action on the big screen. At one point, Luis is hot on Will’s tail – they’re only a second apart according to the commentators.
    ‘Whoa!’ one of the commentators says suddenly as Luis attempts an overtaking manoeuvre. Luis pulls back into line behind Will, but a moment later, he’s at it again. This time he outbreaks Will into a corner and swipes second place from under his wheels. There’s a collective gasp around me.
    ‘And he’s done it!’ I hear one of the commentators cry. ‘That was spectacular, wasn’t it?’
    ‘Indeed it was. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone attempt an overtaking manoeuvre on that corner before, much less succeeded.’
    ‘Trust won’t be happy about that,’ he says of Will.
    ‘Oh, no, he most definitely won’t. Luis Castro is shaping up to be quite some driver, wouldn’t you say?’
    ‘Absolutely. If he— OH MY GOD, HE’S AT IT AGAIN!’
    Luis is right behind Kit Bryson in the lead and I watch as he zips out from behind him and once again, outbreaks him into a corner.
    ‘Incredible!’ one of the commentators cries as the guests in the hospitality area break into applause and some leap out of their seats in astonishment. Amongst the mayhem, I try to zone in on what the commentators are saying.
    ‘Absolutely! As I was about to say, if Castro manages to keep his second position, he’ll be leading the championship by quite some distance.’
    ‘This is looking like his first victory, at this rate. There was something quite “Ayrton Senna” about that move, wasn’t there?’
    ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves . . .’
    Ayrton Senna was one of the greatest drivers of his time before he was killed during a race. He crashed when he was leading the 1994 San Marino Grand Prix in Italy and I still remember it well, because I was staying with my grandparents at the time. I wasn’t big into racing, but my grandfather was, and the news of Senna’s death was everywhere. He was Brazilian, like Luis, and it’s not the first time I’ve heard them being compared.
    Standing there, seeing the looks of admiration on people’s faces, I can’t help but feel a strange sense of respect for Luis. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel oddly uneasy. Perhaps it’s because I’m disappointed for Will, but I can’t dwell on that now because it’s time to return to work. I glance back at the television screen one more time to see the camera following Luis as he speeds off into the Sakhir desert.

 
Chapter 9
     
    My mobile rings and I snatch it up. ‘Yes?’
    ‘Your taxi’s here.’
    Cazzo ! Is it that time already?
    ‘Okay, I’ll be down in a few minutes,’ I tell the woman on the other end of the line.
    I’m at home in my tiny rented studio flat on Camden Road in north London. I’ve been back in the UK for two weeks and have been helping out Frederick and Ingrid with various catering functions, so I haven’t seen Holly at all. Her home is in Berkshire, near team HQ, and she adores living in the country. Me, I’m a city girl, through and through. But back to the present. I haven’t even finished ironing my trousers and my car has arrived to take me to the airport. I quickly whip the iron round, turn it off, and then put on the trousers and their matching suit jacket.
    I throw the last couple of things into my team carry case and zip it up, then lug it down two flights of stairs to the pavement below, where I scan the road for my taxi before realising it’s in the car park behind the flat. The recent snowfall has given way to rain, rain and more rain, so I hold my handbag over my head to keep my hair dry as I stumble to the car.
    Heathrow is bustling as always, but it doesn’t take me long to find the rest of the hospitality crew because they’re all wearing identical outfits to mine: black trouser suits and gold shirts. It’s our travelling attire, and as I’ve already mentioned, Simon likes us to be well turned out at all times.
    We’re on our way to Barcelona in Spain for the first of the European races and I’m excited about seeing our new hospitality area. I’ve only ever been to flyaways before – the races that the team has to fly