Chasing Daisy

  Luis doesn’t reply at first, but then he nods and takes a swig of his beer.

  ‘It’s true, isn’t it?’ I speak again as my heart pounds faster. He looks back at me. ‘Oh, my God.’ I’m dumbfounded.

  ‘I thought she must’ve told you,’ he says, confused.

  I stare down at my fingers in a daze. ‘I suspected, but I didn’t know for sure.’ I glance back at him. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I saw them together.’

  ‘You saw them together?’ I’m still incredulous. ‘When?’

  ‘When we were filming that advert in Italy. She came out of his hotel room at five o’clock in the morning. She didn’t see me, but later that day I overheard them talking. It was intimate.’

  ‘Catalina wasn’t in Italy, was she?’

  ‘No. Nor at the following race in Istanbul.’

  ‘Of course.’ I remember Holly disappearing in the middle of the night. ‘No wonder she was so rude to Catalina earlier,’ I muse.

  ‘Was she?’ Luis raises an eyebrow.

  ‘Yeah. A bit too rude, to be honest.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘You don’t approve, do you?’

  ‘Do you?’ he challenges me.

  I think about it for a moment, realising horridly I may not be all that different to Holly if I ever get the chance to be with Will, but I keep my answer true to my heart. ‘No. I don’t. Catalina may be a bitch, but she doesn’t deserve that.’

  We both gaze over at Holly, who has collapsed against Pete’s shoulder and is laughing hysterically. Pete, also laughing, tries to take her drink away and put it on the bar top, but Holly immediately reaches for it. They have a play fight, which ends with Pete downing Holly’s drink and her beating him on the arm. I start to smile, but then remember what Luis and I have been talking about and instantly feel sombre again.

  ‘You haven’t told anyone, have you?’ I ask, suddenly worried.

  ‘Of course not,’ Luis replies irritably.

  I can’t take my eyes off Holly. And I can’t help feeling disappointed. When Luis says after half an hour or so that he should probably head back to the hotel, I decide to walk with him.

  I tell Holly I’m off and while she isn’t happy, she’s too far gone to protest much.

  The night is cool and I’m cold. I wrap my arms around myself and walk fast to keep warm.

  The security guard follows at a distance. To be honest, there wasn’t much need for him. Despite the place being crammed with race fans, I don’t think many would expect to see a top driver out on the town. The rest of the grid are probably tucked up in bed or downing protein shakes.

  ‘Do you want my coat?’ Luis offers when he overhears my teeth chattering away to themselves. I shake my head. ‘Go on, take it.’ He shrugs it off and hands it to me, so I put it on.

  ‘I still can’t believe it,’ I say after a while. We’ve been walking in silence.

  ‘About Holly and Simon?’ Luis checks, glancing at me.

  I nod. ‘And I know that probably makes me a hypocrite.’

  Luis doesn’t answer, and his lack of response makes me feel worse.

  He follows me through the automatic doors into the bright hotel lobby. I inadvertently glance towards the reception desk and stop in my tracks when I see Will leaning up against it, talking to one of the receptionists.

  ‘Watch it!’ Luis puts his hands on my arms to steady himself as he bumps into me. Will turns around to see us and reels backwards ever so slightly.

  ‘Hi!’ he says, coming over.

  ‘Hello,’ I answer guardedly. ‘What are you still doing up?’

  ‘I was checking to see if I had any messages.’ He points to the reception desk. ‘Have you two been out together again?’

  ‘With the others, yeah,’ I tell him, feeling on edge.

  Luis walks over to the lift and presses the button. Will follows me in that direction. The lift doors open and Luis steps inside, turning around as I begin to follow him.

  ‘Hey . . .’ Will grabs my elbow, pulling me back. Luis puts his finger on the button to hold the doors open. I look at Will, confused. He glances at Luis then at me. ‘Can I talk to you for a sec?’

  ‘Er, sure,’ I reply, moving away from the lift.

  ‘She’ll catch the next one up,’ Will tells Luis.

  Luis gives him a hard stare and then takes his finger off the button. The lift door closes.

  I turn to Will. ‘What’s up?’ I ask, trying to sound indifferent.

  ‘Have a quick drink with me?’ He aims his thumb in the direction of the hotel bar.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be catching an early one for the race tomorrow?’ I ask, warily.

  ‘Can’t sleep,’ he explains.

  ‘Okay . . .’ I give him a baffled look and follow him to the bar. ‘I’m not sure I really feel like more alcohol,’ I tell him when he asks what I’m having. ‘I’ll have a cranberry juice.’

  ‘Same,’ Will tells the bartender. ‘Put it on Room 516. Let’s go over here.’ He points to a table for two by a window.

  I follow him and realise I’m still wearing Luis’s jacket. I take it off and hang it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

  ‘Nice time tonight?’ Will asks.

  ‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘How was the yacht?’ There’s a frostiness to my tone, which I just can’t help.

  ‘Okay, yeah.’ He looks across at me and frowns. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Yes, why?’ I shift in my seat.

  ‘You seem a bit different with me this weekend.’

  ‘I’ve barely seen you,’ I bite back. ‘I don’t know how you can say that.’

  He leans back in his chair and stretches his legs out underneath the table.

  ‘Where’s Laura tonight?’ I try to keep my voice sounding casual.

  ‘In bed.’

  ‘Won’t she be wondering where you are?’

  He shrugs. ‘She’s probably asleep by now.’

  I tuck my hair behind my ears. I wonder if he still prefers it down? I glance up to see him watching me. My insides twinge with jealousy as I remember something he said to me in Italy.

  ‘Have you two been house-hunting together?’

  ‘Here? In Monaco?’ he asks.

  ‘Yes. You said you were thinking of buying a place here.’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ He screws his nose up and shakes his head. ‘But not this weekend.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘There’s not enough time.’

  ‘I see.’ I reach forward and take my drink from the table, swirling the ice around in the glass before taking a sip. I’m wearing a skirt tonight. A short, black one. I may be imagining it, but did Will’s eyes just skim my legs?

  ‘So . . .’ He raises one eyebrow. ‘What’s going on with you and Luis, then?’

  I pull a face, about to deny everything, but something makes me hesitate. ‘What makes you think something’s going on?’ I ask, deflecting the question.

  ‘Going out together two nights in a row, you wearing his jacket.’ He nods at it hanging over the back of my chair. ‘And I saw you chatting to his family in Istanbul.’

  ‘They were nice, actually. Did you speak to them much?’

  ‘No. Not really. But you’re not answering my question.’

  ‘Why should you care?’

  ‘I don’t,’ he replies, before quickly qualifying it. ‘Well, I mean, I just don’t want you to get hurt, you know?’

  I let out a sharp laugh and cross my legs. ‘You don’t have to worry about me, Will. I have no intention of getting my heart broken again.’ Of course, I’m lying. I feel like Will is chipping a little piece of it away, day by day. It’s killing me. But I’m not about to tell him that. And if he doesn’t like the idea of me having a relationship with Luis, good. Let him suffer for a change.

  ‘What about you?’ I change the subject as he pushes his hair back and looks a little frustrated. ‘Are you enjoying having your girlfriend at this race?’

  ‘U
m, yeah,’ he says awkwardly. ‘It’s alright.’

  ‘Just alright?’ I look across at him with interest. ‘I would have thought you’d be thrilled?’

  He takes a gulp of his cranberry juice and plonks the glass down on the table. ‘It’s fine,’ he says, scratching the back of his head. ‘I guess I should be getting to bed.’

  ‘Yes.’ I stand up and I lead the way to the lift. We go inside, turning around to face the doors.

  Will spies the jacket in my hands. ‘Do you want me to drop that off to Luis’s room?’

  ‘No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ he asks. ‘I don’t mind.’

  ‘Will . . .’ I can’t help but laugh. ‘I’m not going to go and shag him, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  He laughs, too, but surprisingly uneasily. ‘Okay, then!’

  ‘See you in the morning.’ I step out on the landing for my floor. I had no intention of dropping Luis’s jacket back tonight, anyway, but Will needn’t know that.

  ‘Holy bollocks Old Blighty, what time is it?’ Holly moans when I open the curtains in our room the next morning.

  ‘Time we got up,’ I reply. I’ve been lying awake in bed for about an hour, going over in my mind the events of the night before. Now that I know about Holly and Simon, I see the signs everywhere. All those times he asked for her, not me. I wonder if it started before Italy? I wonder if it started before or after she told him to hire someone else to look after Catalina? What was it that Frederick said at the time? ‘Simon likes people who stand up for themselves.’

  Well, he obviously liked Holly. A lot. And I can see what she sees in him. He’s attractive, if not way too old for her, and he’s clearly very powerful. Not to mention rolling in it, although that has never been an appeal for me.

  But where is this relationship going to lead? Is he going to divorce Catalina and shack up with Holly instead? Somehow, I doubt it. I toyed with the idea of waking up my friend and questioning her about all of this, but I never actually worked up the nerve. Now that she’s awake, I feel even less ready to ask her about it.

  And then there was that weird drink with Will last night . . . What was all that about?

  At the track a few hours later, Holly urges me to hurry.

  ‘Okay, okay. Just let me go to the bathroom.’

  ‘We’ll miss the grid walk at this rate!’

  I wipe down my hands and rush into the bathroom to check my reflection. There are so many famous people and VIPs at this race that I want to look my best.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Holly screeches as she pokes her head around the door.

  ‘Give me a sec.’

  ‘Lipstick, lipstick . . .’ She grabs my make-up bag impatiently, rummaging around for a second before pulling out my burgundy-coloured lipstick and applying some to her lips. It suits my olive skin tone, but on Holly’s pale complexion it looks too harsh. I tell her.

  ‘Bollocks!’ she exclaims, wiping it off on the back of her hand and then immediately attempting to scrub the consequent mark off with soap.

  ‘Here, use this.’ I hand her some sheer lipgloss and she tries that instead, pursing her lips at me afterwards. ‘Much better,’ I decide. She shoves everything back into my bag and drags me out of the bathroom.

  The bridge is crowded with pedestrians and we hurry past them towards the pits. Balconies overlooking the track are packed with well-dressed ‘suits’ and socialites wearing large sunglasses as they bask in the sunshine. Monte Carlo is a beautiful city and today is a glorious day, barely a cloud in the sky. I can well understand why Will would like a place here. For a split-second I see myself sitting up on one of those balconies with him and have to inwardly berate myself.

  The garages are practically empty when we arrive. The cars are already on the grid and most of the mechanics are out there with them. Holly and I go to the pit wall.

  ‘Let’s walk down to the start/finish line,’ she suggests. ‘See who we can see.’

  I follow her as we climb over the wall into the throng.

  ‘Look, it’s Prince Albert!’ she says, pointing out a handsome man surrounded by important-looking people. ‘And I heard Brad Pitt was here!’ Holly nudges me.

  ‘Really?’ I look at her with interest. I met him once at a film premiere I went to with—

  ‘Johnny Jefferson!’ Holly squeals.

  I feel like the world is closing in on me. I see him instantly, regardless of the fact that Holly is pointing right at him. He’s being mobbed by camera crews and is wearing dark shades so I can’t see his piercing green eyes, but I’d recognise his dirty blond hair a mile away.

  Holly is practically jumping on the spot. ‘Let’s follow him!’ She tugs on my shirt.

  ‘No, no.’ I pull back and she looks at me in surprise.

  ‘What’s up with you? You’re not having another funny turn, are you?’

  ‘Yes, I think I am.’

  ‘Daisy!’ Her disappointment is fierce.

  ‘I’ll see you back in the garages,’ I say weakly. I don’t wait for her to answer, just walk away. Seconds later I feel a hand on my arm and spin around to see Luis standing there. His eyes convey his concern and I know he’s seen Johnny, too.

  ‘Luis, can we have a few words?’ a man with a film crew interrupts.

  ‘In a minute.’ Luis puts his hand up to ward off the journalist.

  ‘No, you go on,’ I urge, embarrassed.

  He watches me as I rush away to the relative safety of the garages. I busy myself tidying up the small catering table at the back, while trying to keep my tears at bay.

  I saw Johnny’s last PA once. She was in Soho, London, walking down Old Compton Street with a dark-haired man and a baby in a pushchair. I recognised the man as being Johnny’s best friend Christian – he was always nice to me – but I couldn’t place the girl at first. I was in two minds about whether or not to say hello to Christian, but then it dawned on me who he was with and I was too shocked to do anything except hide back in a dark doorway and let them pass. They seemed happy together, like a couple, and as my eyes flicked down to their little boy, he glanced up and saw me. His hair was blond, like his mother’s, but his eyes, they were green, like Johnny’s.

  I wonder if he knows he’s a father.

  I scoured the papers compulsively after that, every single one of them. But there was nothing in them about Johnny fathering a son. That was when I told myself I had to end my tabloid obsession. I haven’t read them since.

  Now I have an unbearable urge to surf the internet for everything and anything there is to read about Johnny Jefferson. But I compress this desire right down into a tiny ball and hide it away, deep inside. I’m not going down that path again.

  The grid begins to clear because the race is about to start. I take a few deep breaths to steady myself and then go to watch the action on the television screens. The camera zooms in on the two black, white and gold cars at the front and I push thoughts of my ex to the back of my mind as I focus my attention on Will and Luis.

  ‘You’re still here!’ Holly exclaims in surprise.

  I nod and manage a tight smile. The drivers set off on their warm-up lap, around Casino Square and through the tunnel, then the shimmering harbour, crowded with white yachts, is laid out before them. The cars come around the last turn and take their places on the grid, then the five lights go red, and they’re off!

  Will has a good start and almost beats Luis to the first corner, but Luis keeps his nerve. The television screens cut to Will’s on-car camera and suddenly I get a sense of what it would be like to be in the car with him. He’s flying around the corners, missing the steel and concrete barriers at the edge of the track by a matter of millimetres. This circuit is so much more dangerous than the modern equivalents.

  At that thought, my heart starts racing and I begin to feel dizzy, but this time, Holly cottons on quickly that something isn’t right.

  ‘Are you pregnant?’ she hisses, once she’s
sat me down in a chair at the back of the garages.

  ‘Jesus! No! How the hell could I be pregnant? I haven’t had sex for almost two years!’

  ‘Blimey. No wonder you fancy Will so much – you’re desperate for a good seeing to.’

  ‘Pass me that water. Please,’ I add weakly. I glance over to see Laura standing alone within the lines of the white box in Will’s garage. She’s staring up at the single television screen above her head.

  ‘WHOA!’

  The sound of several team members shouting makes me spin around and stare back up at the television. Will is hot on Luis’s tail and now he’s attempting to overtake. I see Laura cover her mouth with her hands and it distracts me for a second, and in that moment another collective gasp erupts from the two garages as Will and Luis zoom out of the tunnel and Will outbreaks Luis into the chicane. But no, it’s too tight, there’s not enough room. Suddenly both cars are spinning and then one after the other slams into a wall, shattering car parts across the track.

  I watch, white knuckled with fear, as the camera zooms in on the wreckage. And then both Luis and Will are climbing out of their cockpits and over the wall to safety. They’re still wearing their helmets – you can’t see their faces – but it doesn’t take a genius to work out that they’ll both be fuming.

  Simon gets down from the control desk on the pit wall and stalks into the garage, his jaw clenched as he opens the door to the meeting room. Luis arrives back at the pits first, with Will only metres behind him. Neither of them has spoken to the press – or each other – along the way. They both tug off their helmets angrily and head towards Simon. The team’s technical director follows the boys into the meeting room and Simon firmly shuts the door behind him. Laura put her hand out to Will as he passed, but he didn’t meet her eyes.

  Holly and I throw each other a glance. We look up to see the television screens broadcasting a crane hauling the wrecked cars off the track.

  ‘Two new cars . . . Jesus,’ Holly murmurs. ‘That’s going to cost the team, big time. Simon will be really pissed off.’

  I’m sure you’ll cheer him up, I think to myself. ‘At least no one was hurt,’ is what I actually say.

  ‘They’ll probably still have to go to the Medical Centre for a check-up,’ Holly replies.