CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Within twenty four hours a manager installed by Watkinson event management at Bristol Engineering had the supercar race series on page three of the nations press. The pending run at Brands Hatch was kept from all apart from those involved. The local press turned on Blake, the previous owner of Bristol Engineering made a statement saying he felt bullied under the circumstances. Blake released the financial figures and the local press were embarrassed, Blake had paid twice the value of the operation to make sure the family involved were financially stable. A further statement stating management expectations and operational outcomes were at odds between Blake's commercial entities and the family involved led to Blake buying out the operation. The local press issued an apology but Blake would not forget the smear. Watkinson had made a healthy offer for the idea, it's personnel and hardware, but Blake held off attending Brands Hatch on the Wednesday with Lindy in tow. Unsure of his gut feeling on the move he wanted to see for himself the writing on Lindys face.
Brands Hatch is a motor racing circuit near Swanley in the county of Kent, England. First used as a dirt track motorcycle circuit on farmland, it hosted 12 runnings of the British Grand Prix between 1964 and 1986 and currently hosts many British and International racing events. Noise restrictions and the proximity of local residents to the Grand Prix loop mean that the number of race meetings held on the extended circuit are limited to just a few per year and generally higher profile events. Brands Hatch was originally the name of a natural grassy hollow that was shaped like an amphitheatre. Although the site was originally used as a military training ground, the fields belonging to Brands Farm were first used as a circuit by a group of Gravesend cyclists led by Ron Argent, with the permission of the local farmer and landowner, Harry White. Using the natural contours of the land, many cyclists from around London practised, raced and ran time trials on the dirt roads carved out by farm machinery. The first actual race on the circuit was held in 1926, over 4 miles 6.4 km between cyclists and cross country runners. Within a few years, motorcyclists were using the circuit, laying out a three-quarter-mile anti clockwise track in the valley. They also saw the advantage of competing in a natural arena just a few hundred yards from the A20, and with the passage of time, a kidney-shaped circuit came into use. The first motorcycle races were very informal, with much of the organisation being done on the spot. Initially the racing was on a straight strip approximately where Cooper Straight came to be when the track was tarmacked. Brands Hatch remained in operation during the 1930s, but after being used as a military vehicle park and being subject to many bombing raids during The Second World War. It needed much work before it could become a professional racing circuit, since then it has become an icon. Gerhard Berger a champion driver once called the circuit the best in the world, with a pedigree history it remains a sacred place to race enthusiast similar to the attraction to Mount Panorama Bathurst NSW in Australia.
The circuit is a commercial entity and not unusual for locals to hear engines in the distance on not only a weekend but during the day. On a particular Wednesday a distinctly different note pierced the air, some locals noticed the roar and some went to investigate, they found a page three motor racing story to have been correct.
Lindy was scheduled to ride with Stock at an exact time, Bristol charter flew them in from Flax Burton, landing in the outfield near the pits. Lindy had no idea what to expect and Winston even less, she was pleasantly at ease when the familiar face of Australian racing legend Peter Stock greeted her in the pit lane garage escorted to the point from the chopper by the Bristol Engineering manager from Wilkinson management. Winston took him to one side introducing himself and making things clear on what the plan was. Stock was a ladies man and appeared taken by the beauty, buttock length black hair and leggy lines of the pocket rocket, he was also belittled by her aura, he had never met an undefeated champion from any sporting genre, he was somewhat distracted. Blake noticed and made a few things clear, Stock focused.
Lindy was introduced to Stock standing next to his car, Lindy had been rugged up in the required suits, shoes, she had a helmet under her arm, she had excitement written all over her face. Lindy was aware that Stock had just finished his third marriage, she was at odds with his known womanising. Blake watched like a hawk as Stock introduced himself taking her hand and gently kissing it, she blushed and looked away. Stock like Cumberland had a distinctively Australian accent. 'Fair go it's really you, I remember seeing you win the Melbourne Cup, you look as radiant as you did that day.'
Lindy put on a one sided force smile. 'You excited Peter or is that a cucumber stuffed down your strides.'
Stock was taken back but his years of smiling for the camera he made a recovery. 'You were born in New South Wales, the Hunter Valley far as I can recall.'
'To right, you come from Victoria never mind.'
Stock was given a clear message this was all business. Some of his crew had to walk away in fits of laughter. 'You would like to know about the car no doubt.'
'Seen them roaring round on the telly but never been this close.'
He opened the door of the menacing looking vehicle, Lindy climbed in and held the steering wheel looking around the cockpit. 'Five litre naturally aspired V8, that means it has no turbocharger or supercharger. Six hundred and fifty horsepower revving to seven thousand five hundred revs, top speed of around three hundred kilometres an hour, zero to one hundred kilometres an hour in three point six seconds.'
'How much does it weigh.'
'Our minimum required weight is one thousand four hundred and ten kilo with the driver.'
'So all cars weigh about the same, you add weight and take it away to match the driver or car.'
'Yes, most cars carry weights to make up the load, in strategic spots to make the car handle better.'
'Do cars have a handicap, given different weights to carry based on form.'
'No, a handicap race would be time delay, doesn't happen.'
'As you burn fuel and the car gets lighter it goes better.'
'In some circumstances yes, depends on the track and the traction set up of the car, tyre wear, have to take all those things into consideration when setting pace. These days pace is generally as fast as you can possible go even in a long race like the Bathurst one thousand.'
'What about other cars in your team, do you work together.'
'Seldom, idea is to win, fine to support others should the opportunity arise but the would have to stand out like a sore thumb to take advantage.'
'Do you get blocked by other teams, so their other team cars can gain on you.'
'Sometimes, some tracks are hard to pass on with the cars performance so closely matched, looks like it but probably not, most are going as fast as they can. Just another parameter of racing, you have to work out how to get round someone faster car or not.'
'What do all these light's tell you.'
'If the car is being pushed to hard, getting too hot, burning too much fuel to make ground, revving too high putting stress on the engine, the things aren't bullet proof, they need human interface.'
'Okay I can relate to some of that, lets go.' She climbed out, a crew member checked her helmet as she did it up and opened the passenger door for her, she was strapped in the seat. They had intercom between the helmets, Stock started the car and idled out of the garage into pit lane, he put his foot down and the car snaked away toward the track entry. Out onto the track and Lindy said nothing, she watched his eyes, hands, the dashboard, worked out what he was doing to interact with his car. She noticed some red lights occasionally but he modified his behaviour to suit. Generally she felt she was with a champion, she felt no fear, in a couple of laps she could anticipate what he was going to do. Six laps and he pulled into pit lane pulling up along side the garage. She pushed the crew member away and unbuckled herself disconnecting the helmet wires before she climbed out. She went up to Winston and lifted her visor. 'I want to drive it.'
Winston knew her well, he
was not surprised, he just smiled at her. He approached the Wilkinson team manager. 'Fit her up in the seat, let her go.'
'You think that's wise.'
'I think it's essential.'
'Not sure Peter will be overly impressed it's his main car.'
'I'm not here to impress Peter Stock, prepare the vehicle so she can reach the controls.'
'The French driver is not much taller than Lindy, his car is here she would probably fit without adjusting too much.'
'Bring it out.'
It was blue, Lindys favourite colour, Winston explained and she sat in the seat. 'I'll take it, how do I start the bloody thing up.'
A crew member lent in showing her the procedure, she fired it up. The crew member asked Winston a question as he closed the door and put up the elastin window guard. 'What does she drive on the road.'
'Range Rover V8.'
They stood back and she managed to get it away without spinning a wheel, she entered the track and quickly went up the gears. She remembered exactly where Stock had braked and how hard he had accelerated out of the corner, she noticed the car change it's handling character as told by crew members on the radio in her helmet. She told them if it felt better or not. She clipped white lines and humps along the edge of the track, he mistakes gradually faded. Ten laps she pitted for fuel and went back out. Wilkinson's manager called Winston to the computer control panels in the pit garage. 'She's within a couple of seconds of Stock, this is amazing, are you thinking what I'm thinking.'
Winston looked at him with a half smirk. 'You don't know her, she doesn't take to instructions very well, she'll tell me exactly what she thinks when she's finished. No harm in mentioning this on the lead up to her run in the grand national but at present I'd suggest that's her focus.'
'This is incredibly powerful stuff, she could be the face of the series.'
'Next week you have to deal with Kalika Palmer and Cecilia Ridgehaven, they are very different women, tell me how you feel when they've finished with you.'
'If they can drive like this girl will look forward to it.'
'Kalika couldn't drive a soapy stick up a dogs rear end ol man, Cecilia is likely to have Stock pants off in half a lap, just to keep the peace I suggest you are prepared to be very tolerant.'
'Interesting, could keep Stock amused.'
'If Ridgehaven gets her hooks into him would solve quite a few social problems I have.'
'Kalika Palmer is engaged to that Ellis from the police.'
'Yes, he'll no doubt be with her next week. I hope things are prepared the press will be here.'
'We are very interested in this girl.'
'She rides horses better than she drives, my guess is you won't see her again.'
'Shame, her face could sell a Ford Fiesta to a Ferrari fan.'
'Look I'm a bit tied up and would appreciate you making the decisions, if you vow to put Cecelia Ridgehaven's face on the series then so be it, you will see what I mean when she rolls up here. Fortunately she can ride a horse as well, very well, but this little dynamo smokes them all she's so focused.'
'I could understand that.'
Winston whisked Lindy away, as the chopper banked back toward Flax Burton Winston realised how good Lindy had got at holding a stone face. He could read nothing of her experience, she was quiet and looked out the window at the bustling south London sprawl. He handed her headphones with intercom to get over the noise of the chopper, she put them on. 'What did you think of that, any help.'
'If Stock kept his eyes on the track and not my body he'd go a lot faster.'
'I wasn't talking about relationships I was thinking of focus and plan application. Motor racing is sport with fine tolerances.'
'It was a bit exciting, you have to trust a lot of people, they all seem to help in decisions that help you win. I just have Flaxy, up to me to steer him in the right direction.'
'You going to tell me how letting him go is working out.'
'It helped with that, not sure yet, like letting me out there without any gauges or lights just the steering wheel in that car. The car doesn't have a mind of it's own, only affected by human input. I can't really say until I test things out over more time, The more I learn the less I know.'
'Mmm, I think it will help one way or the other, not quite what I expected but as you I know little of things until I become involved.'
'You sending Cecelia Ridgehaven down there next week with Kalika.'
'Yes, why do you ask.'
'Because it's what I'd do, she'll chew him up and spit him out. Will keep her amused until the national, Stock will end up a physical and emotional mess. Bitch of a thing may just meet her nemesis, he may just do the same to her, that'll work.'
'I didn't really consider the emotional outcomes, what if she is affected to the degree she fall's, I would be in some degree responsible.'
'She'll just get angry, more of a problem for me than her.'
'Mmm, same kind of problem Stock had with you in the car, distracted social intervention, do you think I should cancel Cecelia.'
'No I don't, they deserve each other, might even work.'
'Mmm, I may have burdened you with unnecessary review.'
'No,' she smiled and looked at him. 'You just want to make sure I make the best decision when I'm on the line, that's when I'll plan the run. You know that, it's okay. Without you I would be sitting in the corner of my room grieving the fall and death of my brother. My brother would be proud of me if he were alive, I realised that a long time ago. Coming here was a good idea, in more ways than one.'