Page 34 of Chasing Daisy


  ‘Will you be alright racing tomorrow on this little sleep?’ I ask in alarm.

  ‘I’ll be fine, don’t worry.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I drive better after sex.’ He winks at me and I remember how he’s made that joke before. I pull my pillow out from behind my head and wallop him with it.

  ‘Oi,’ he warns, trying to keep a straight face. ‘You don’t want to have a pillow fight with me.’

  I do, actually, but perhaps now is not the best time. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ I say, climbing out of bed.

  ‘You don’t have to go,’ he calls as I walk to the door.

  ‘No, you won’t sleep properly if I stay.’ I go out into the living space and pick up my dress, climbing back into it and zipping it up.

  ‘Come here,’ he calls from the bedroom.

  I walk back through to him and stand beside the bed as he props himself up on one elbow and looks at me. I try to show him the same respect as he did to me and stare at his face rather than his chest, but it’s harder than you’d think.

  He takes my hand and pulls me down, then kisses me languidly.

  ‘Sleep well,’ I say, breaking away from him. ‘Thanks for the dress.’

  ‘You look better out of it than in, and I didn’t think that was possible.’

  He flashes me a cheeky grin and I smile back, before turning and walking out of the room.

  Chapter 29

  I’m a Screwdriver.

  That’s my first thought when I wake up the following morning with a stonking hangover.

  What was I thinking, going to bed with Luis? Of all people! I remember that time he turned up in Melbourne with Alberta on his arm and feel sick to the pit of my stomach. Thank God he used a condom. At least I won’t be going through another pregnancy scare . . .

  Oh, Will. Will! How could I have done it? I see his face quite clearly for a fleeting moment and then he turns into Leonardo DiCaprio. I would bang my hand on my head to try to bring the memory back into focus, but it hurts enough as it is.

  ‘Good time last night?’ Holly asks, grinning.

  ‘No,’ I moan.

  ‘Really?’ she sits up in bed, surprised.

  ‘I shouldn’t have done it, Holly.’

  ‘Why not?’ she asks, pulling a face.

  ‘He’s not good for me.’

  ‘We know that,’ she brushes me off. ‘But was he a good shag?’

  I don’t answer.

  ‘He was, wasn’t he?’ She gives me an amused look.

  Some of the details come back to me and a shiver goes through my entire body.

  ‘You’re blushing!’ she squeals. ‘Tell me everything!’

  ‘No way,’ I say firmly. ‘I never kiss and tell.’ I climb out of bed and go into the bathroom, ignoring her protests. I grab my toothbrush and squeeze out some toothpaste then commence brushing my teeth.

  God, he was a good kisser. . .

  Another shiver.

  Oh, and that body . . .

  I pause in my brushing and just remember for a moment. Then I spit out the toothpaste and rinse out my mouth before impulsively splashing my face with cold water. I need something to cool me down.

  I’ve never felt so nervous as I wait for him to appear at the track that morning. I can’t believe he has to race today, because my head is pounding with a terrible headache.

  When he walks through the doors to the hospitality area at Japan’s Suzuka circuit, my heart starts to pound like a jackhammer. I busy myself with the bacon while it occurs to me he might go straight to his room, but he doesn’t. The next time I glance up, he’s standing at the serving table looking straight at me.

  ‘Morning,’ he says, raising one eyebrow.

  ‘Good morning.’ I look down, then up again, before looking back down at the bacon. I want to ask if I can get him anything, but don’t think that will go down too well.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ He has an amused expression on his face.

  ‘Okay. Apart from my hangover. I was really drunk.’

  ‘Were you?’ He frowns. ‘You didn’t seem that bad to me.’

  ‘Oh, I was,’ I assure him. ‘Weren’t you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Really? I thought you were wasted! Weren’t you drinking whisky and Cokes like they were going out of fashion?’

  ‘No whisky, just Cokes.’

  ‘Oh.’

  We both fall silent.

  ‘Can I get you anything?’ I ask reluctantly. Well, sorry, but I don’t know what else to say.

  ‘Sure. The usual.’

  ‘Is that the usual you used to have, or the usual your new, improved, healthy self would opt for?’

  ‘Just get me some bacon and eggs, bun tart.’

  We grin at each other and I breathe a very large sigh of relief as I load up his plate and hand it over. He winks and a thrill passes through me as I watch him walk away.

  Okay, so I still fancy him. What’s the big deal?

  ‘I am totally going to go on that rollercoaster later. Are you coming or what?’ Holly interrupts my thoughts. Suzuka circuit has an amazing theme park on site and its Ferris wheel dominates the skyline.

  ‘You’ve got to be joking. I’d probably throw up.’

  ‘Hey, was that Luis?’ she asks suddenly. ‘What did he say to you?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I reply casually.

  ‘Nothing? What, he ignored you?’

  ‘No!’ I exclaim. ‘I mean, nothing of interest.’

  ‘Oh. I can’t believe you’re not kissing and telling,’ she says disappointedly.

  ‘Well, I’m not, so get over it.’

  I don’t speak to Luis again before the race starts, and when I do see him, he doesn’t meet my eyes. I tell myself he’s just trying to get his head together and stay focussed, but the insecure part of me thinks it’s something more sinister. I’m not sure I want to go to the pits to watch the action, and when Holly persuades me, I don’t feel comfortable when we stand in Luis’s garage. I can’t help but think all the mechanics are judging me. Do they all think I’m a Screwdriver? God, I hate that term now. . .

  Luis wins the race, but I’m not full of elation along with the rest of the team. Those niggly doubts that have been bothering me are right in the forefront of my mind. I go outside to watch the podium celebrations because it would look odd if I didn’t, but afterwards, I hurry back to the kitchen to commence the clean-up mission.

  A couple of hours later, Luis comes to find me.

  ‘Where have you been?’ he asks, standing by the door.

  ‘Just in here, tidying up.’

  He gives me a weird look. ‘Well, I’m off now.’

  ‘Okay. I guess I’ll see you in Brazil.’ I don’t go over to him.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he asks quietly, glancing around to make sure no one is in earshot.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I reply, nodding behind him to warn him of Frederick’s encroaching presence.

  ‘Well, okay, then.’ He backs away from the door, looking putout as Frederick budges past him into the kitchen.

  ‘Bye.’ I put my head down, moments later realising I didn’t even congratulate him on his win. Should I go after him? No. I can’t.

  Back in England I throw myself into my work and try to forget all about my night with Luis. One of Holly’s colleagues at the canteen is on maternity leave, so I fill in whenever I’m not working in London for Ingrid and Frederick. I’m too busy to even hunt for a new flat, but Holly assures me there’s no rush.

  ‘It’s not like anyone else is staying here,’ she moans one night when we’re sitting on the sofa watching television. ‘Catalina was at team HQ again today,’ she says. ‘That’s three times in a week. I swear she’s keeping her eye on me.’

  ‘Do you honestly think she suspects anything?’ I ask.

  ‘I don’t know. Simon and I haven’t shagged since we were in Singapore, so there’s nothing to suspect.’

  ‘Has he spoken to you abou
t it again?’

  ‘What do you mean, called it off?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No. I reckon he’s just keeping me on the backburner in case it turns out to be a big scam.’

  ‘A scam? What, you think she’s not pregnant?’

  ‘Well, she’s not showing, is she?’

  ‘No, but how far gone is she?’

  ‘Only a couple of months.’

  ‘She wouldn’t be showing yet, then.’

  Holly takes a gulp of her wine and plonks it down on the coffee table. ‘I’ve had enough now, anyway.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yep. I’m telling him it’s over. No more booty call.’

  I give her a sympathetic look, but don’t patronise her by saying it’s the right thing to do. ‘When?’

  ‘When I can next get a minute alone with him without that devil bitch poking her nose in.’

  I laugh. ‘Good luck with that.’

  ‘What about you, have you heard from Luis?’

  It’s been over a week since Japan.

  ‘No.’ My reply is blunt.

  ‘Why don’t you text him? You left things a little too abruptly at Suzuka.’

  ‘Now you’re telling me this? Look, if he wanted to hear from me, he would have contacted me himself.’

  ‘Maybe he’s too scared to after you told him how drunk you were on the night you shagged and then ignored him after his race win.’

  ‘Holly!’ I exclaim. ‘I didn’t tell you all that so you could use it against me.’

  ‘I’m not using it against you. Oh, whatever. Suit yourself.’

  She grabs the television remote control and starts channel surfing, but irritation is eating me up. ‘What do you want to watch?’ she murmurs.

  ‘I don’t care,’ I reply hotly.

  ‘Have I pissed you off?’ she asks, surprised.

  ‘Yeah, you have a bit.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I can’t believe you encouraged me to shag him and move on afterwards and when I actually did that – and no, I didn’t particularly want to – you tell me to chase after him again.’

  ‘What do you mean, you didn’t particularly want to? Shag him or move on?’

  ‘Move on!’ I snap.

  She smirks at me. ‘I knew you had feelings for him . . .’

  ‘I bloody don’t, anymore.’

  ‘Yes, you do,’ she says, grinning.

  ‘Well, it’s a bit of a shame, then, isn’t it, because he clearly thinks I’m just another tart he’s managed to get into bed.’

  Her face turns serious. ‘That’s not what I heard.’

  ‘What are you going on about?’

  ‘Something Pete said.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Luis came into headquarters yesterday and was asking if you were around. Apparently his face fell when Pete told him you were working in London.’

  ‘Really?’ My heart lifts.

  ‘Just text him,’ Holly pleads.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re both so stubborn!’ she exclaims.

  ‘I thought you said he was going to hurt me?’

  ‘Now I’m not so sure,’ she admits.

  ‘Well, I’m going to see him in a few days, so I’m not doing anything until then.’

  Our next race is in Brazil and I have to say I’m relieved it’s the last one of the season. This whistlestop tour of the world has been fun, but the countries have all started to blur into one. All those airports, planes, setting up and cleaning up, non-stop partying, cars going round and around on a track . . . I don’t think I could do much more of it. Which is just as well, because when we reach São Paulo, Simon calls me into the directors’ suite.

  ‘Hi,’ I say, sitting down on an armchair, as instructed.

  ‘I’m afraid we have a bit of a problem,’ he says, looking concerned.

  ‘Oh?’

  He gets straight to the point. ‘Your father has threatened to withdraw sponsorship if I continue to let you work for me.’

  ‘What?’ I’m shocked. ‘But isn’t he just a shareholder? Can he do that?’

  ‘Apparently, he can. He’s a major shareholder, and he has a big say in the company’s expenditure.’

  ‘But what does he expect me to do? I’m not going to go running back to New York if that’s what he thinks.’

  ‘I guess that’s something you’ll have to discuss with him.’

  ‘Fuck that!’ I snap, before apologising. Simon is still my boss, even if it’s only for a short while longer. ‘Is that it, then? Am I fired?’

  ‘I’ll write you an excellent reference,’ he replies.

  ‘Should I pack my bags now?’

  ‘Please stay until the end of the weekend.’

  I don’t suppose they have anyone to cover for me, my cynical side says.

  ‘There’s a big bonus waiting for you if you do,’ Simon continues.

  I’ll need it, at this rate.

  He shakes his head, sadly. ‘It just won’t be the same without you girls next year.’

  ‘Us girls? What, you’re firing Holly, too?’

  He looks taken aback. ‘She handed in her resignation this morning. Didn’t she tell you?’

  ‘No.’

  I back out of the room and run straight into Luis.

  ‘Hi!’ His face lights up, but falls instantly when he sees mine. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Why should you care?’ I bite back angrily.

  ‘Hey, come on.’ He frowns. ‘Can I talk to you for a sec?’ He points to his room.

  ‘That’s what Will used to say to me. And no, you can’t.’

  I may as well have slapped him across the face. His features harden and he turns away. ‘Suit yourself, Daisy.’

  I storm into the kitchen and spin Holly around. ‘You quit?’

  She looks shamefaced.

  ‘When were you going to tell me?’

  She glances around the kitchen. ‘Let’s go to the bathroom.’

  I follow her in there and she explains. ‘It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.’

  ‘Why? How?’

  ‘Please keep your voice down. I don’t want anyone else to hear.’

  ‘Go on,’ I tell her bluntly, trying to oblige.

  ‘He just tried it on with me. I told him I wasn’t interested in shagging him again until he got a divorce. He actually laughed in my face.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. Loudly. He said that was just ridiculous, he was never going to divorce the bitch, baby or no baby. But he didn’t see why we couldn’t carry on as we were because she was going to be – get this – even less interested in sex once she had a kid. Can you believe he said that to me?’

  I sigh in empathy.

  ‘So I told him I was quitting. I said I’d see the weekend out, but after that I’d find another position.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe Frederick and Ingrid could hire me?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ I pause. ‘Do you know that I’ve been fired?’

  ‘WHAT?’

  I fill her in.

  ‘Oh my God, Daisy, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay, I’m not surprised.’

  ‘I didn’t realise your father was as cruel as that.’

  ‘Oh, he’s worse, but that’s something I’ve had to learn the hard way.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I’m still thinking about it.’

  Norm can barely look at me. The other sponsors seem uncomfortable around me, too. A couple of them have managed a small smile and a slight nod, but my shifts have never been so quiet because so many people seem to be avoiding the serving table when I’m behind it.

  ‘Do you think I can work in the kitchen?’ I ask Frederick eventually, when I can stand it no more.

  He gives me a sympathetic look, which is so out-of-the-ordinary from him that I feel my eyes prick with tears.

  ‘Fillet the fish,’ he replies, pointing with his knife to the ot
her side of the kitchen.

  I go to the counter and get on with the job at hand, quietly and diligently working away as I skin and debone a sea bass.

  My head is spinning with all that’s happened. It doesn’t feel real. None of it feels real. I don’t feel like myself, I feel like I’m in someone else’s body. Is all this really coming to an end?

  I work away in the kitchen for the rest of the afternoon, not taking a break to watch practice. Early that evening, I hear a couple of the front-of-house girls gossiping as they collect their things from the kitchen.

  ‘He was, like, properly shouting.’

  My ears prick up.

  ‘What was he saying?’

  ‘He said he had no balls!’ one of them whispers loudly.

  ‘What’s this?’ I can’t help but ask.

  They both look sheepish. ‘Oh, it’s nothing. Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was there.’ They both grab their bags and hurry out of the kitchen.

  ‘Do you know anything about a shouting match earlier?’ I ask Holly.

  ‘Simon and Luis,’ she replies without a moment’s hesitation. ‘Luis has taken a drive for another team.’

  I slam my knife down on the counter. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, go and talk to him,’ she snaps. ‘What have you got to lose?’

  I scrub my hands and wipe them on a tea-towel before stalking determinedly out of the kitchen, ignoring her satisfied smile. I jog up the stairs and pound on his door, then push it open before he even has a chance to answer. He’s sitting on a chair with his head in his hands and looks up at the loud interruption.

  ‘You took it, then?’ I ask.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The drive for the other team.’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ he replies dully.

  ‘Heard about your shouting match,’ I explain.

  He raises his eyebrows and looks away. ‘We weren’t arguing about that.’

  I regard him with interest. ‘What, then?’

  ‘I can’t believe he fired you,’ he replies.

  ‘Oh, that,’ I dismiss him. ‘I’m not surprised. I told you what my father was like.’

  ‘Simon’s a bastard for not standing up to him.’

  ‘Forget about it. I’ve had enough of all this anyway.’ I wave my hands around the room.

  ‘Have you?’ He frowns. ‘I was thinking you could come with me?’

  ‘No. I don’t want to be a bun tart anymore.’ I take a seat on a chair next to him.