Chasing Daisy

morning.’
    ‘Really? Brilliant!’
    ‘Yeah, I’ve got some interviews and stuff to do. And it’ll be nice to see you again.’
    I beam and tap my fingers impatiently on my leg. So much small talk, so many big things to say.
    ‘What else is up?’ I pause. ‘Are you going to tell me what happened?’
    ‘With Laura?’
    I still flinch when he says her name. ‘Yes.’
    ‘Well, you know things were a bit strained at Monaco?’
    ‘I didn’t, but go on.’
    ‘She wanted to talk to me after that, but it was so hectic between then and Shanghai. We finally got a chance to catch up when I got back from China, and after everything that had happened with you, she could tell we had a problem.’
    We had a problem . . .
    ‘Okay,’ I say, willing him to continue.
    ‘I told her I thought it was over.’
    I hold my breath.
    ‘She was pretty upset.’
    From the sound of his voice, I can tell that’s an understatement.
    ‘It was a bit traumatic.’
    Now I feel awful. I don’t want to cause her pain. But holy shit! Has he split up with her?
    He continues. ‘She wanted another chance. I said I didn’t think so, that we’d been growing apart for some time, and she begged me to consider taking a break.’
    My stomach freefalls. ‘A break? As in to get back together again afterwards?’
    ‘That’s what she’s hoping, but it won’t happen.’
    Take a deep breath, Daisy. Calm down. ‘Did you tell her that?’
    ‘Well,’ he sighs, ‘there are other complications.’
    I can’t bear this!
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘She’s organising a charity event at Silverstone.’
    ‘Right . . .’ Oh, here we go.
    ‘A lot of people are going because . . . of me. I know that sounds conceited, but . . .’
    ‘No, I know,’ I say reluctantly. ‘It’s true.’
    ‘So if we’re not together anymore . . .’ His voice trails off again. I can see where he’s going with this.
    ‘I understand.’ My voice is monotone as the light at the end of the tunnel dims, flickers and then goes out completely. ‘You have to keep up pretences.’
    ‘Daisy, I’m sorry.’
    ‘It’s okay.’
    ‘No, I know it’s going to be difficult. Especially after China and everything that happened there.’
    ‘Or didn’t happen,’ I interject wryly.
    There’s silence on the other end of the line, and then he speaks. ‘It will be different after the British Grand Prix. I promise.’
    ‘Okay.’ That’s all I say.
    ‘See you on Thursday?’ he asks hopefully.
    ‘Of course.’ I try not to let him hear the disappointment in my voice.
    So it’s with a certain amount of trepidation that I arrive at the track on Wednesday afternoon. I tell Holly about our exchange because there’s no point in keeping it from her.
    ‘That’s not going to be pleasant,’ she says. ‘Seeing Laura get all the attention this weekend.’
    ‘Hopefully it won’t be too bad.’
    ‘Daisy, you’re living in a dream world. I don’t think you know fully what you’re dealing with when it comes to Will and Laura and the British press.’
    ‘Yes, yes, I know, they’re like royalty and all that.’
    ‘Well, if you want a reality check to see what you’re getting yourself into, I guess this is the way to do it,’ Holly comments.
    ‘I don’t want a reality check, thanks very much. I just want Will. After that I’ll bury my head in the sand and won’t have to deal with it.’
    ‘Whatever you say, pal, whatever you say. I just hope he’s worth it.’
    A shiver goes through me as I remember our kiss and the feeling of him pressed up against me.
    ‘He is,’ I tell her firmly.
    On Thursday morning I’m upstairs in the director’s suite, tidying away some coffee cups, when someone grabs my waist from behind.
    ‘Argh! Will!’ I leap away in shock. ‘You scared the life out of me!’
    He just regards me with amusement. ‘Sorry, I heard you were up here.’ He sits on the table that I’ve been precariously piling crockery upon. ‘How are you?’
    ‘Okay, thanks.’ I look away, suddenly feeling shy. ‘You?’ I glance up at him.
    ‘Alright, yeah. Do you need help carrying those down?’ He nods at the cups.
    ‘No, I’ll be fine. When did you get here?’
    ‘A little while ago. I’ve got to head over to the BRDC’ – that’s the British Racing Drivers’ Club – ‘in a minute for an interview.’
    ‘Is . . . Laura here, yet?’
    ‘No. She arrives tomorrow.’
    I look down.
    ‘What are you up to tonight?’ he asks.
    ‘I don’t know, why?’
    ‘Do