Chasing Daisy

it beeps. I quickly pull it out again.
    I’ M OK. THANKS. SORRY I MISSED YOU.
     
    It may only be a short text, but I feel giddy with happiness. Head spinning, I type out another message:
    YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID GOODBYE
     
    I press send and he immediately replies:
    I COULD’T SEE YOU ANYWHERE
     
    So he did think of me!
    I WAS IN THE KITCHEN!
     
    He writes back:
    SORRY. WASN’ T REALLY WITH IT. SEE YOU IN MONACO X
     
    He signed off with a kiss! I gleefully type out:
    I LOOK FORWARD TO IT X
     
    Another kiss. Naughty Daisy! Oh, God, I just can’t help myself. I sit there in a daze until I hear an American woman outside the cubicle say, ‘I don’t know who’s in there; she’s been ages.’
    Mortified, I stuff my phone back into my bag and flush the toilet, before rushing out with my head down, murmuring, ‘Sorry’ to the queue of people waiting. It only occurs to me later that I didn’t wash my hands. Not a good look for catering staff, but I’m hoping no one saw my uniform.

 
Chapter 13
     
    Holly and I run towards each other, squealing, before doing a little jig on the spot. We’re at Heathrow – again – and are beside ourselves with excitement. This time we’re off to Monte Carlo for the most glamorous and historic race of the season. This is the place to see and be seen and Holly and I have spent the last couple of days liaising on the telephone about what going-out outfits we should take with us. As a result, my bag is packed full to breaking point.
    ‘So I reckon we should go to a bar on the harbour tonight,’ Holly says, taking my arm as we walk towards the check-in desk.
    ‘Sounds good.’ It’s Wednesday, and Will isn’t due to arrive until four p.m. tomorrow. It’ll be about seven o’clock by the time he gets to the hotel. I know this, because I asked Ally for his itinerary. For professional reasons, of course. Anyway, it means there’s a whole night and day to kill before I can see him again.
    The last week and a half has been torture. I woke up on Monday morning in a cold sweat, severely regretting texting him. I keep telling myself it was completely innocent, but I just hope he sees it like that. I’d be mortified if he suspected I fancied him.
    The motorhomes in Monaco are all situated on the port, about five minutes’ walk from the pits across the temporary Rascasse bridge. We can see the boats on the glittering ocean from here, and there’s a spectacular view looking back up at the hills, which are jagged with apartment blocks and hotels overlooking the harbour.
    By Friday morning, I’m so on edge that I can’t believe I haven’t spontaneously combusted. We went out straight from the track on Thursday night and, as a result, I wasn’t at the hotel when Will checked in, which I’m assuming he did.
    Frederick pipes up. ‘Can you get on with the bacon, Daisy?’
    ‘Yes, Chef!’
    Urgh, that’s the last thing I feel like doing. I have to grill it out in the hospitality area so it’s fresh for our guests, but I always end up smelling like bacon afterwards and with a hangover I feel decidedly queasy. Queasy and greasy. A lovely combination.
    ‘Happy there with your nice muesli?’ I gripe at Holly.
    ‘Perfectly, thank you.’ She smirks. I’m tempted to throw a piece of bacon at her, but Frederick would go mad.
    It’s only six a.m. but the team members are starting to appear, each looking more worse for wear than the last. Then Simon comes into the hospitality area looking bright-eyed and bushy tailed.
    ‘Can I get you a tea? Coffee?’ I offer.
    ‘Coffee, please. White, no sugar.’ But, of course, I know this already. He fidgets on the spot impatiently for all of two seconds before snapping, ‘Actually, Holly, can you bring that up?’
    ‘Sure,’ she replies.
    He stalks off.
    ‘That’s strange,’ she comments.
    You’re telling me. Why the hell didn’t he ask for me to take it to him, considering I’m supposed to be his on-hand girl? But I keep these thoughts to myself.
    ‘Don’t you think?’ Holly gives me a weird look.
    ‘Yeah, it is a bit,’ I agree, uncomfortably. Is he angry with me? Does he know about me keeping Will up before qualifying in Istanbul?
    Holly takes the cup from me and heads out and up the stairs, while I get back to flipping bacon.
    Then Will walks through the doors, and all my worries about Simon vanish in an instant.
    I watch him with anticipation, willing him to look up and see me. Suddenly he does, but there’s something