Chasing Daisy

the paddock in the direction of the team garages.
    I wonder where Will is? He hasn’t been into the hospitality area this morning. I’m so on edge that I almost drop the platter when I spot him, dressed in his overalls already, standing by his car in a discussion with one of the team’s engineers. He glances my way, but returns his attention to his conversation, not faltering, not acknowledging me. I place the platter on one of the catering tables.
    ‘Got any custard creams?’ I turn to see Luis standing there.
    ‘Custard creams? They’re not classy enough for this operation, Luis, you should know that. Have a nice piece of shortbread instead.’ I offer him some.
    ‘Pah to your shortbread. Get me some goddamn custard creams.’
    ‘ Va se lixar !’
    ‘Shh!’ he urges, looking around in horror. ‘My mother’s just over there!’ He aims his thumb over his shoulder.
    ‘Your mother?’ I look past him to see a short, pleasantly plump Brazilian woman standing next to a short, pleasantly plump Brazilian man. There’s also a petite brunette who looks to be in her late teens.
    ‘My dad and little sister,’ Luis explains before I can ask.
    ‘Aw!’ I smile at him in delight. ‘Are any of your other brothers and sisters here?’ I remember him telling me he has about seven.
    ‘No, just Clara. The others are all either afraid of flying, too busy at work, or have just given birth.’
    ‘Just given birth?’
    ‘Yeah, one of my older sisters had a baby girl last weekend.’
    ‘That’s awesome! Have you seen her yet?’
    He shakes his head, regretfully. ‘I won’t get a chance to fly home for a while.’
    His mother looks over. ‘Mãe, come here,’ he calls. All three of them walk towards us. Luis quickly turns to me and says, ‘My mum really likes custard creams, too, so you might want to sort that out.’ He gives me a mischievous look, but I restrain myself from telling him to piss off in Portuguese again. ‘This is Daisy,’ Luis says as they arrive. ‘My favourite little bun tart,’ he adds, wrapping his arm around my neck and giving me a squeeze. I shrug him off and am about to smack him on the arm for calling me a bun tart when his mother speaks.
    ‘Ah, this is Daisy.’ She beams at me warmly and I look at Luis in confusion. His mother knows who I am?
    ‘I told her you were a troublemaker,’ he says as an aside to me. He has a twinkle in his eye. I look back at his mother to see she has the same look in hers.
    ‘Hello, how are you?’ I gather myself together and shake hands with all three of them. Clara regards me, shyly. ‘Are you enjoying your trip?’ I ask.
    ‘Oh, yes, wonderful,’ Mrs Castro replies. ‘We’ve been doing all sorts of sightseeing.’
    ‘Have you? Where have you been?’ I direct this question at Clara, hoping she’ll open up to me.
    ‘Luis!’ one of the mechanics calls.
    ‘Gotta go.’ He gives his mum a quick peck on the cheek and walks off in the direction of his car. I turn back to Clara.
    ‘We went to the Grand Bazaar yesterday,’ she tells me.
    ‘Shopping!’ his mother interjects. ‘The place to go since the fifteenth century, apparently!’
    ‘And on Monday we’re going to the Süleymaniye Mosque, aren’t we?’ his father butts in. They all speak fluent English.
    ‘Are you staying on in Istanbul for a holiday, then?’ I ask them.
    ‘Yes, for another week with Luis,’ Mr Castro replies. ‘It’s our first time in Turkey and we don’t see enough of him as it is.’
    ‘Well, I hope you have a lovely time.’
    Holly comes into the pits carrying a pot of tea.
    ‘Oh, you’ve got the tea already. Cool. Thought I was going to have to go back for it,’ I say to her.
    ‘No need,’ she replies breezily.
    ‘We should let you get on,’ Mrs Castro interrupts.
    ‘Okay. Enjoy the qualifying. And help yourself to tea and biscuits!’
    As I turn to walk out, I glance back to see Will on the other side of the garage, quietly watching this exchange. We make eye contact for a split-second before he averts his gaze.
    Later, I’m in the kitchen washing dishes when Holly appears.
    ‘How’s it going?’ I ask. She’s been working out front of house and watching the qualifying on the big screen.
    ‘Okay. Luis was quickest in Q2.’ That’s the second qualifying session – there are three in total before the grid positions are determined.
    ‘That’s brilliant!’ I interrupt.
    ‘But Will was way down in ninth.’
    ‘Oh,’ I reply,