Chasing Daisy

  He kisses me, slowly, languidly, his tongue touching mine so lightly that it sends electric sparks tingling throughout my entire body. He runs his fingers through my hair and down my back, and then he pulls me back to the sofa and I’m on top of him. He pushes the hemline of my red dress up and over my bare legs as his kiss deepens and becomes more intense. I reach down to his jeans and unbutton them, unable to wait any longer. I want his T-shirt off. Right now. He tugs it over his head and is kissing me again as I run my hands over his smooth, toned chest.

  ‘Take your knickers off,’ he whispers into my ear. I stand up and do as he says, while he shrugs off his jeans. I straddle him again and can feel him pressing against me, with only the flimsy fabric of his Calvin Kleins keeping us apart.

  I want him so much . . .

  ‘Let’s go to the bedroom,’ he says, but as I jump up to follow him, smoothing down my dress as he leads the way, niggly doubts start to race through my mind. I try to ignore them, but I can’t, and they’re bothering me. Maybe we should wait. Maybe we should wait until it’s all over between him and Laura.

  We reach the bedroom and he turns back to see me hesitating.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  His face falls and I suddenly feel very much like I’d like my underwear back on. I turn and hurry back out of the bedroom and over to the sofa to retrieve it. I can’t meet Will’s eyes as I hand him his clothes. I wait anxiously while he turns his black T-shirt the right way out before pulling it over his head. He steps into his jeans and buttons them up.

  I walk to the door, my heart throbbing with disappointment, even though it’s all my own doing. My hand takes the handle and pushes down, then I look back to find him right behind me. He leans against the door and gently runs his fingers down my spine as he looks into my eyes.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m letting you go,’ he says.

  ‘I can’t believe it either,’ I reply. ‘But it’s the right thing to do.’ He pushes himself off the door and steps back, while I walk out onto the landing feeling regret course through my blood like a drug.

  Chapter 17

  Will won the race the next day, but Luis didn’t give it up without a fight. Holly told me afterwards that Simon had to order Luis to back off at one point, not wanting a repeat of Monaco. She also said that after the race, Luis went ballistic with anger and he and Simon had a massive barney. Luis flew back to Brazil instead of returning to the UK for testing. The team had hired a racetrack to test some new car components they’d fitted – it’s something each team does at some stage, to make sure everything is reliable and effective. Luis was supposed to do some laps in the car himself, but in the end, the team’s test driver, a Frenchman called Pierre, had to do it all.

  I don’t even bother to ask Holly how she knows all of this anymore. Anyway, maybe it will do Luis good to have a break and see his baby niece for the first time, although the last thing any driver should do is fall out with the team boss, especially when your contract expires at the end of the season.

  As for me, I’m back in the UK myself and it’s a relief because I don’t have to get on another flight until we go to the German Grand Prix in July – a whole month away. The next race on the calendar is the British Grand Prix and Frederick and Ingrid have been keeping me busy with lots of catering jobs in the interim. It’s a far cry from the work I do on the Formula 1 circuit and can vary from ten ladies who lunch to dinnertime ballroom glitz for a thousand people. It’s solely waitressing though – no actual food prep involved – so I don’t really enjoy it.

  I haven’t heard from Will and it’s been seriously doing my head in. The second week after China was the hardest. After the race he pulled me aside to tell me he needed some space to talk to Laura, but would give me a call when he could. I thought a week would be more than enough time, but two weeks later, I’m starting to seriously ask if he’s changed his mind about me completely.

  My other horrible news is that my landlord is throwing me out. He’s putting my flat on the market, and as I can’t afford to buy it, I have to start searching for a new place immediately. I’m devastated. It may only be a tiny studio flat, but it’s warm and it’s sunny and I like it. I have been to look at a few places, but they were all either damp and dingy or way out of my price range so I’ve had to keep looking. Luckily, Holly has told me I can always stay with her if I’m stuck. I may have to take her up on it at this rate.

  On Sunday, the week before the British Grand Prix, I’m on my way into Camden to pick up some supplies for a rare night in when I walk past a newsagent’s. My feet come to an automatic stop when I see Will’s face staring out from one of the newspapers. Someone has put one of the papers back on the shelf the wrong way, and a story about him is gracing the front of the sports pages. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. I pull it off the shelf and study the picture of Will. He looks different again. It’s so strange, but pictures just don’t capture what he looks like in person.

  ‘Are you going to buy that?’ the man behind the counter calls.

  I huffily go to the cash desk, getting the correct change out of my purse, then I leave the shop with my head engrossed in the story.

  It’s perfectly harmless, all about Will and how the nation is backing him to win. The Brits don’t like Luis too much, from what I can gather, and want Will to knock him off the top of the championship at the next couple of races. This is the last year that the British Grand Prix will be held at Silverstone before it moves to another venue and the organisers are desperate for a Brit to win. Blah, blah, blah, and then I see the italic smallprint at the end of the story:

  Go to page 23 for Will’s stunning girlfriend Laura’s hot summer style tips . . .

  Crap. I flick to page 23 and there she is: beautiful, blonde and slim, wearing six different outfits of varying colours and styles. I pass a bin and impulsively stuff the paper in it, feeling disgusted with myself. My phone rings. I pause on the street and rummage around in my handbag to get it out. It’s Holly.

  ‘Have you found a place yet?’ she asks. ‘No,’ I answer woefully. A bus whizzes past and I don’t hold my breath fast enough to avoid breathing in the fumes.

  ‘And how long is it before your landlord kicks you out?’

  ‘Ten days.’

  ‘Shit. You haven’t got long.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘At least there’s a few weeks’ break before we head to Hockenheim.’

  ‘True,’ I concede. ‘Is it still okay for me to crash at yours if I’m stuck?’

  ‘Er, yeah, that should be okay,’ she answers.

  Oh, no. She doesn’t sound too keen.

  ‘Are you sure?’ I check again.

  ‘Yes, it’s fine.’ Again, not very convincing. I’ll be seriously screwed if I can’t stay with her. I wonder if it’s because she and Simon have been shagging round at hers? Cazzo! I wish she’d just be honest with me!

  ‘Are you still there?’ Holly interrupts my train of thought.

  ‘Yes, I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m going to see another estate agent this afternoon.’

  ‘Cool,’ she replies.

  ‘I’ve gotta go. I’m outside the supermarket and I need to pick up some ravioli for dinner.’

  ‘Okay. Chat soon.’

  ‘Bye.’

  I hang up unhappily and stuff my phone back into my bag as I walk through the supermarket doors. My phone rings again. I distractedly snap it open without even looking at the caller ID.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Daisy?’

  I halt in my tracks. ‘Will?’

  ‘Hi,’ he says. ‘Is this an okay time to talk?’

  ‘Um . . .’ I look around at my surroundings and then quickly walk back outside. ‘Yes, sure.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Just at the supermarket, getting some pasta for my tea.’

  ‘Sounds nice. Wish I could join you.’

  ‘Do you?’ M
y heart flutters. I lean up against the wall. It’s dirty with pollution, but like I care about that right now.

  ‘I’m sorry I haven’t called before. I’ve had a lot going on.’

  ‘I understand.’ Well, I’m trying to. ‘Have you spoken to . . .?’ I ask hopefully.

  ‘Yeah.’ My heart lifts. ‘Well, kind of.’ And falls flat again.

  ‘Kind of?’

  ‘It’s been . . . Difficult.’

  What does that mean? I don’t speak.

  ‘Daisy? Are you there?’

  ‘Yes. I’m here.’

  ‘Where are you exactly? There’s a lot of background noise.’

  ‘I’m on a street in Camden. There are a bunch of cars going past.’

  ‘Will you be home soon?’

  A Number 29 bus pulls up a few feet away. To hell with the ravioli. ‘I’ll be home in ten.’

  ‘I’ll call you back.’

  ‘Okay.’ I hang up and make a run for the bus.

  He doesn’t call me in ten. He doesn’t call me in fifteen, either. By twenty I’m practically climbing the walls. Finally, he calls.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi. Are you home?’

  I’ve been home forever, you idiot! ‘Just,’ I fib.

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘So what’s going on?’ I sit down on the sofa and wrap my left arm around my knees.

  I hear him sigh. ‘It feels like ages since I’ve seen you.’

  My heart swells with happiness. I’ve been so worried he’d gone off me.

  ‘Won’t be long, now,’ I say. ‘What day are you coming to Silverstone?’

  ‘I’ll be there Thursday 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 you want to have dinner with me?’

  ‘Won’t that be a bit dodgy if we get spotted?’

  ‘I know a little pub about forty minutes from here. It’s very small and full of locals. I doubt anyone will pay attention to us.’

  ‘In that case, I’d love to.’ I can’t keep the smile from my face.

  ‘You’re staying at the hotel, right?’ he asks, hopping down from the table.

  ‘Yes, aren’t you?’

  ‘I have a room there, yeah. Shall I come and get you at around eight?’

  ‘Sure. I should be finished by then. Room twenty-three.’

  ‘Cool.’

  I don’t know what the pub is like, but I’m guessing it’s a no-frills affair so I opt for my black Rock & Republic jeans and an emerald green top from Reiss. I remember what Will said about green and the colour of my eyes and as it’s a warm night in early July, I don’t need long sleeves.

  I’m staying on the ground floor of the hotel and the car park is just behind my room. Will leads me towards a black Porsche, pointing his key at it and unlocking the doors with a bleep.

  ‘Nice car,’ I say, climbing inside.

  He starts it up, glancing across at me with a cheeky grin. ‘Do you like the colour?’

  ‘Oh, bugger off.’

  He chuckles and pulls out of the car park. It’s still light and I watch as the
countryside whizzes past outside my window. We drive through villages and past farms and fields until we finally pull up outside a little stone pub. There’s smoke coming out of the chimney, despite the fact that it’s the middle of summer. I follow Will inside and he leads me to a table, tucked away in a corner with a view of the rolling hills spread out before us.

  A waitress comes over to take our order.

  ‘Sorry, we haven’t had a chance to look at the menu yet,’ Will says.

  ‘I’ll come back in a minute,’ she replies. She walks away and glances back over her shoulder at us. Will gives me an uneasy look.

  ‘Do you think she recognised you?’ I ask.

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe I should put my cap on.’

  ‘No, too obvious.’

  We study the menu, but I can tell he’s on edge. There won’t be any hand-holding across the table tonight, that’s for sure.

  We place our order and then I stare out of the window. The sun is just starting to dip below the far-off horizon.

  ‘What have you been up to since China?’ Will asks.

  ‘Flat-hunting.’ I tell him my whole sorry saga.

  ‘Why wouldn’t Holly want you to stay with her?’ He looks confused.

  Oh, cazzo. He doesn’t know about Holly and Simon’s affair.

  ‘I think she just likes her space.’ I don’t like lying to him, but I can’t betray my friend.

  ‘Why don’t you stay in a hotel for a bit?’

  ‘I can’t really afford that,’ I tell him.

  He gives me an odd look. ‘Well, I’ll help out if that makes things any easier.’

  ‘No!’ My reply is instinctive, although I’m touched.

  ‘Why not? It’s not like I don’t have enough to go round. Come and stay nearby so we can see each other.’

  Well now, that would be lovely . . .

  ‘I would say you could stay at my place, but it’s probably a little soon.’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ I brush him off, ‘definitely too soon for that.’

  He laughs and glances over to the bar area. I follow his gaze to see our waitress and the bartender talking and looking our way.

  ‘Bollocks,’ he mutters. ‘I thought we’d be okay here.’