All That the Heart Desires (34 page)

“Free practice … I know,” I interrupted him.

“Yes. Are you hungry?”

“No,” I said sharply and turned away. He stood up and approached me. I watched him but was not sure what his intentions were. He took my glass and put it on the coffee table, then took my hands and lifted me up, so that I stood only inches away from him.

“Why are you being so impossible?”

“I’m not!”

“You’re acting like a teenager.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Was he really lecturing me about my behaviour? How dare he?

“Get out!”

He was the last person entitled to lecture me. He let go of me and took a step back.

“Are you sure?” he asked. I didn’t answer.

“Fine. I’m going.” He went to the door, not even turning around.

When the door closed for the third time, I grabbed the empty glass that was on the table and was already prepared to throw it after him, but just before I let the glass go I saw I was indeed acting like a spoiled teenage brat.

The realisation that he was right hit me with all its power. It was so unfair.

The next morning I was woken by the phone ringing in the room. I picked up the handset and answered.

“It’s six o’clock Miss Dame. You asked for a wake up call.”

“I didn’t,” I said slowly and sleepily. There was silence on the other side.

“Room 606? Miss Dame?” the woman asked.

“Yes and yes. But I didn’t order the wake up call.”

“I’m sorry miss. It’s written here; perhaps you’ve forgotten.”

“I didn’t,” I answered more clearly and was prepared to say some more harsh words to her, when knocking on the door of the suite interrupted my intentions. I put the handset down and rose slowly from the bed.

I put on my robe and went to the door, opening it to find that breakfast had arrived.

“Your breakfast, Miss,” was all that I heard in a strong Italian accent. Before he could run me over with the cart, I stepped away, allowing the waiter and the cart into the room.

“I didn’t order room service,” I murmured.

“Room 606? Miss Dame?” All I did was nod and followed him. He was already putting the dishes onto the table.

“Yes,” I said when he looked at me.

“Coffee or tea?” He already had two pots in his hands. I realised there was no point in trying to object any further.

“Coffee, but please take away all the rest.” It was as if he hadn’t heard me.

“
Bon appetite
, Miss.” He left the room. Looking at the full table of food, I started to convince myself I was still sleeping and dreaming. The smell of the coffee was just too irresistible, though.

With a sigh I took a cup from the table and went to stand by the windows. It was already bright outside; for early September that wasn’t strange.

I wondered what was going on. I’d been woken by the hotel staff.; breakfast had been delivered by room service, which I hadn’t ordered. But someone had to have done so and I wasn’t sure who. I doubted it was Harry. He hadn’t called me, although I had waited half the night for his call. He was paying me back by giving me a dose of my own medicine.

Lorcan? No, he wouldn’t dare. I had thrown him out of the room the evening before, although not five minutes afterwards I had felt sorry that I had.

Another knock on my door brought me back to the present. I sighed again.

“It’s open!” A maid stepped inside. Her hands were full of clothes bags; another maid was standing behind her. Only when the first maid moved did I see she had three shoe boxes in her hands.

“Miss Dame?” the first one asked me. I nodded and waited.

“This is for you. Where can we put it?”

“On the bed please, and thank you.”

I reached for my purse to give them a tip, but the first maid held up her hand and refused.

“It has been taken care of, Miss. Thank you.” And they left, leaving me without a clue as to what was going on.

I put my coffee cup down and went back to the bedroom. The clothes bags and shoe boxes were opened and nicely spread out on the bed. I stood still when I noticed the clothes. They were the Crest Formula 1 Team members’ sport clothes. I stood there, not knowing what to think.

At last, I managed to shake myself out of my daydream and went straight to the bathroom. I needed a shower badly.

Half an hour later, I returned to the bedroom refreshed and half hoping the clothes would be gone. My hopes were dashed. Dressed only in a towel with another wrapped around my head, I looked at them again. In the shoe boxes there were real racing shoes, in three different sizes.

Picking one shoe up, I almost dropped it and screamed when I heard a voice.

“I wasn’t sure which size you wear…”

“Christ!” was all I managed to say. Fixing the towels into position and turning around, I found my self-eye to eye with Daniel Crest. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking if my orders were fulfilled and … checking to see if you were still here.” I knew I grimaced.

“What’s this?”

“A camouflage,” he answered simply. I didn’t quite understand him.

“To avoid the ‘paddock bimbo’ look.”

I couldn’t believe he’d remembered my words.

“I’m not going to the race.”

“No, you’re not.” I almost sighed with relief.

“You’re coming with us on today’s free practices.” Before I had managed to open my mouth and protest, he was gone.

Friday and Saturday were another level of living hell, as I was not able to escape. When Crest left my room, my mobile rang. I immediately regretted answering it.

I was informed that I would be picked up from my room in an hour and that I must be ready and dressed. I had no choice, as when I looked outside the room, a man was standing near the stairs and the elevator. I didn’t know what he was doing there, nor had any wish to check. All that was left was to get dressed and be ready.

Friday was a sunny day and it was hot in Monza. In the paddock everyone had a job to do and as I didn’t want to disturb any of them, I hid in the garage. I pushed my hair under a cap that I’d found lying about.

There were endless conversations I didn’t understand. That gear, this brake, left wheel shock absorbers, wings, tires, etcetera, etcetera … My mind couldn’t absorb everything. It was clear to me I needed a translator, although they were speaking English. Only then did I realise how much was going on behind what was seen on the screen. Computers everywhere. Everyone was walking and talking like bee drones around their queen.

Lorcan didn’t say one word to me. I wondered if he was still angry because of the day before, or was he really so busy that he found no time to talk to me? When he spotted me standing in the corner, already with the cap on my head, he gave me a short nod. That was all.

When the cars left for their first round, I was handed earplugs by one of the mechanics. I thanked him, as the noise was really only just bearable. Hearing the engine roar in an open space was okay, but listening to the same sound in a small, confined space was too much.

“I was told you like to run away. Please, don’t,” he said, then he turned around and went back to his colleagues who were already watching the monitors. I didn’t know what to think. I realised I really didn’t have any option but to stay there.

Another member of personnel brought me a cup of coffee which I drank slowly and watched the monitors. During that hour Lorcan came back in and went out of the garage four times. Men that were working on his car listened to his observations and comments.

“Lorcan, my results this morning were better than yours,” I heard Carlos saying when the racetrack was closed for practice and almost all the cars were already parked in their garages. I looked over the heads bent over the two race cars, attending to what needed to be done.

“Congratulations,” was all that Lorcan said, while wiping his hair with a towel. Carlos looked at me and, suddenly realising who I was, his face lit up, but I didn’t like it. He looked like the cat who’d got the cream.

“I see you two have had a fight! Was that the reason you weren’t concentrating on the track?”

The garage went silent and I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks.

“We didn’t fight,” I said before Lorcan could answer.

“Oh, really?” he mocked me.

“Really,” I said, without looking at him.

“Prove it!” he demanded, but I just brushed him aside with my hand.

“We are not children, Carlos.”

Before he could say anything, I quickly left the garage. All I heard was laughter. I wondered who the team members were laughing at.

Outside it was hot and I understood why Lorcan’s hair was wet. Under the cap and helmet it must have been like a sauna. I wondered how the drivers managed to survive those hours in the heat.

On the other side of the paddock there was nothing else other than communication centres and the trucks behind them. I wasn’t sure where I was allowed to go. I leaned on the wall behind the pit garage door, when they were suddenly opened. I wondered if someone had followed me, so I stayed where I was.

I recognised the same mechanic that had offered me the earplugs.

“I’m here,” I said. “You can tell them I’m not going anywhere and you don’t need to play babysitter. I know you don’t want this role.”

He turned around and looked at me.

“You’re not dumb,” he said slowly.

“Are you hungry?” I thought about it. I’d started to feel hungry and because of that even more grumpy.

“Yes I am,” I answered.

“Right. Follow me.” I put the cap back on my head and he smiled. Asking him what was so funny, he explained that I was wearing Lorcan’s Car Team Manager’s cap. I looked dumb and I knew that.

“I’m Bobby,” he introduced himself. When I wanted to do the same, he just laughed. He explained he’d been told who I was, so no introduction was needed. In any event, he had already seen me several times before, including the Crest Charity Ball in Budapest.

He led me to the Crest communication centre where there was a restaurant on the first floor. I was surprised how everything was onsite. He showed me around and told me all I needed to know and answered my questions.

Although the team restaurant was full of team members, no one joined us. We chatted about the races and the cars and I started to realise how much work was actually required on the race cars; why there were so many people to take care of one car and one driver. I was presented with a completely different side to Formula 1.

Soon it was time for Bobby to go back to the garage. It was close to Friday’s second free practice. Although he would soon be missed, he left only when I promised I would stay close by. Finally, I was alone with my thoughts.

I was trying hard to understand the game the three men were playing with me. What was that contract really about? And my so-called role in it? Was this some sort of way of getting at Lorcan and me together? I couldn’t imagine that, but then again I couldn’t think of any other reason. Nothing fitted together. If two things did, the third one didn’t and so the circle continued. From the racetrack, the roar of the engines could be heard, and I knew the next practice had started. I stayed where I was and was able to watch it on the large television screen in the restaurant.