Chasing Daisy

long time until his breathing slows and I glance up to see that his eyes have closed. I start to detach myself.
    ‘Where are you going?’ he asks groggily.
    ‘To bed,’ I reply. ‘You need to sleep.’
    ‘No, stay here.’ He pulls me back down and, a moment later, tugs on the bedcovers underneath us, wriggling around until I get up and help him pull them back. We climb under the sheets and snuggle up together again, still fully dressed. Soon the sound of his breathing slows again, but I lie there for a long time afterwards before I finally fall asleep.
    In the early hours of the morning, just as the birds are beginning to sing in the trees outside the window, I wake up. Will is sleeping on his side, facing me. I resist the urge to reach over and stroke his face, but then he stirs and his eyes open. We lie there, staring at each other in the darkness for a minute. And then he pulls me to him and we kiss, unspeaking. My whole body tingles as our kiss deepens to become more passionate. And then he’s unbuttoning my jeans and I’m doing the same to his, before we both tear off our T-shirts and he lowers himself onto me.
    It’s intense, so intense, and it’s over too quickly. He stays inside me for a while afterwards as our breathing steadies, and then he rolls off and pulls me back into his warm arms.
    He soon falls into a deep sleep again, but I doze in and out of slumber until the dawn begins to brighten and light spills underneath the blinds. Will’s watch starts to beep and he comes to, stretching his arms over his head so they press up against the headboard. He looks across at me and smiles sleepily.
    ‘We’d better get going.’
    I nod and reach for my clothes down the side of the bed. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m naked, I would think that what happened between us was just a dream.
    ‘Shall I drop you back to the hotel?’ Will asks an hour and a half later. It’s six thirty.
    ‘Yeah, that’d be great. We’re doing the late shift today.’ By late, it means eight o’clock, so it’s still disastrous if you’ve got a hangover.
    He drives into the car park.
    ‘You’d better go first,’ he says.
    I put my hand on the door handle, but he pulls me back.
    ‘If I don’t get a chance to speak to you much today, I’ll call you tomorrow.’
    ‘Okay.’ I turn back to leave.
    ‘Daisy . . .’
    ‘Yes?’
    He puts his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me to him, touching his lips to mine. ‘See ya later.’
    ‘Bye.’

 
Chapter 18
     
    ‘Go on, you can spare another muffin. I’m wasting away here!’ The fat American man in front of me cracks up laughing as I stifle a yawn and add a chocolate muffin to the collection of pastries on his plate. Will’s parents walk into the hospitality area behind him, making me automatically stiffen as I hand his plate over.
    ‘Thanks, bun tart!’ Fatty dissolves into giggles again, before walking away. I’m distracted watching Will’s parents stop to talk to Laura.
    Will and Laura arrived at the track together again this morning and he didn’t meet my eyes. Laura was immaculate, wearing a blue sundress with white trim and white heels, and I’m certain everyone here was thinking that she and Will looked like the perfect couple. I felt a rush of jealousy when I saw her, followed by several sharp pangs of guilt at the thought of what happened last night.
    But the jealousy soon prevailed. Laura doesn’t seem like someone who’s worried they’re about to lose the love of their life, and her confidence concerns me. If she’s not worried, should I be?
    I’m debating whether I can bear to watch the race from the garages with Laura and Will’s parents there when Frederick takes the decision away from me.
    ‘I need you girls doing the catering in the pits. Come and get the supplies from the kitchen, would you?’
    By the time we get there, Laura and the Trusts have already settled themselves in Will’s half of the garage. I’m bristling with annoyance and jealousy as I set up the catering while the three of them chatter away, ignoring me.
    ‘Come on, let’s go and do some celeb spotting,’ Holly suggests, aware of my pain. I follow her gladly.
    As we climb over the wall that separates the pits from the starting grid, the thought occurs to me that Johnny Jefferson might be milling around the track, seeing as this is his home Grand Prix, but I can’t see him, thankfully. That would have been the last straw, I think, although if I