Chapter Thirty-Two

Aiden came first in Belgium and second in Monza, results which pulled him back into third on the leader board, only one point behind his teammate and still in touch with the championship leader, Carlos. He felt his life was turning a corner and was happier both on and off the track. Even his mother appeared to be keeping her end of the bargain, bringing Tom out to both races.

Singapore followed, one of the most gruelling races on the circuit, but a mechanical failure meant he failed to pick up any points. Undaunted he went on to get two wins in Korea and Japan. Now in India he’d just picked up a second place, taking him to second in the championship. Ahead of Stefano. Closing the gap on Carlos.

The run of success didn’t escape the attention of his engineer who collared him in the Delta garage after the presentations.

‘Is she the reason you’re picking up points now?’ Frank asked, nodding towards Mel who was deep in conversation with Stefano, no doubt trying to prize a quote out of him about how great it was to finish third.

‘You’re putting the rise up the leader board down to the press officer and not the expertise of the driver or the team?’

Frank gave him the look. ‘You’d better not be playing games with her. She’s not your usual type. She’s special.’

‘I know.’ Did he really need to be told the obvious?

Frank gave him a long, searching look. ‘You’re happy.’

It wasn’t a question, but Aiden answered anyway. ‘Yes, I am.’ And it scared the bejesus out him when he realised the happiness had little to do with his rise up the leadership board and everything to do with the woman they were discussing.

‘It shows in your driving. You’re more relaxed. I get the feeling you’re not racing your father any more. Only racing the other drivers on the track.’

Aiden frowned. Was that true? Now he came to think about it, he hadn’t thought of his father in a while.

Mel glanced over and caught his eye, her private smile, one lover to another, making him feel ten foot tall. No, he had far better things to think about now than his father.

‘My warning still stands though,’ Frank continued. ‘Don’t hurt her.’

Reluctantly Aiden swung his eyes back to his engineer. ‘You really think I have any intention of doing that?’

Frank seemed to study him for a moment. ‘No, I don’t.’ Then he did something pretty rare, in Aiden’s experience. He grinned. ‘Bugger me, you’re really going to win that championship this year, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’ The certainty of his reply surprised him.

Frank nodded appreciatively before clapping him hard round the shoulders and going off to find someone else to psychoanalyse.

It left Aiden free to go and pester Mel who was now laughing with … Carlos? When the heck had he snuck his way into their garage? Before the Spaniard had time to blink Aiden had managed to insert himself firmly by Mel’s side, his arm thread possessively around her waist. He had half a mind to plant a smacker on her lips for good measure, but didn’t want to alert any skulking media. Not that he gave a monkey’s who knew, but Mel wanted to keep a low profile. I spin the news. I don’t want to become the news, were her words.

Having sufficiently staked his claim on Mel, Aiden turned to his rival. ‘Come to gloat?’ Carlos had come first to Aiden’s second today, but it was the Spaniard’s first podium place in three races.

‘I’ve come to check on my sweet little Mel.’

Like a cat ready to pounce, Aiden felt himself tense. ‘I agree Mel’s sweet and slightly on the short side, but she’s not yours.’

As they squared up to each other Mel cast an eye from one to the other and shook her head. ‘Too much testosterone, boys.’ Reaching up she gave Carlos a brief peck on the cheek. ‘It’s lovely to see you, but time you went back to your Viper teammates and left us alone so we can plot your downfall.’

Carlos laughed, a dazzle of white teeth against olive skin. ‘Ah, but now Aiden is here I was wondering. How is the documentary going?’

Aiden froze. ‘What documentary?’

‘Word gets about. Your father was one of the greatest drivers that ever lived. I’m interested to hear how they plan on keeping his memory alive.’

‘The documentary is nothing to do with us,’ Mel cut in quietly.

‘No? I understood Aiden was to contribute some touching memories of his times with the great man.’

Aiden stared coolly at his rival. ‘I’m not sure how that’s any of your business.’ He and Mel had met with the producer a few weeks ago and though he wasn’t sure about the touching part, they had persuaded him to be interviewed.

Carlos shrugged in that laconic southern European way. ‘As a child I was a big fan. It must be a burden, living up to such a legend, no?’

Aiden smiled. ‘How can being lucky enough to share some of Sebastian Foster’s genes possibly be a burden?’

Carlos gave him a knowing smirk before blowing an extravagant kiss at Mel and strutting back to his own garage. He reminded Aiden of a peacock, minus the trailing feathers. Or the beak. Then again, his nose could qualify. ‘Why do I get this urge to throttle that bastard?’

‘Because he beat you today? Because he’s trying to wind you up about your father?’

Aiden bent to give her a light kiss. ‘No. Because he hurt you.’

‘Then thank you, my brave knight, but that was a long time ago. I’ve moved on since then, in case you hadn’t noticed.’ She grinned up at him. ‘It didn’t work, did it?’

‘What?’

‘Carlos, trying to needle you about your father. It’s no longer a sore point for you.’

As she was the second person to remark on that in the space of a few minutes he had to believe both Frank and Mel were right. He was no longer racing the ghost of his father. The only guy he was racing now was the one in front of him.

As that happened to be Carlos, so much the better.

He must have been too absorbed with his thoughts because Mel broke away to study him. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I will be, as soon as I can drag you away from here and get my hands on you.’

‘Now that’s the best offer I’ve had all day.’

He smiled down at her, kissing the tip of her nose. ‘I should bloody hope so.’

The next race was Abu Dhabi. A day-night race on the Yas Marina Circuit. The track wrapped round a marina filled with super yachts and was straddled by the futuristic looking five star Yas hotel. A stunning setting during the day, it looked even more spectacular at night when it was all lit up.

Sadly Mel couldn’t see any of it. She was sitting in the back of the garage with Sally, watching the race on the monitors. Sitting wasn’t quite accurate. She was perched on the edge, teetering between standing and yelling and cowering and biting her fingernails.

‘Are you actually watching this between your fingers?’ Sally asked in disbelief. ‘I thought that was a pose reserved for horror movies.’

‘It feels like a horror movie.’ God, did Aiden and Carlos have to drive so close to each other? ‘Any minute now they’re going to crash. I can feel it.’

‘Don’t you have any faith in your former or current lover?’

Mel couldn’t answer that. She was too busy wincing as Aiden and Carlos again went wheel to wheel.

At the next corner they both held their breath. ‘Is it my imagination, or is this more than a jostle for first and second place?’ Sally remarked once the immediate danger had passed.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, they’re racing like a pair of duelling knights. You didn’t give them both a lady’s favour, did you? You know, like a scarf or a pair of knickers?’

‘They’ve got more on their mind at the moment than my knickers.’ Her hands clenched as Carlos took the next corner slightly too wide and Aiden swooped inside him. There was a split second of terror as the two cars came dangerously close but then Aiden was off and away. ‘He’s in the lead!’ She clutched at Sally’s sleeve. ‘Two more laps to go. Oh God, I can’t bear it.’

Her phone beeped and she glanced down at the text.

It was from Tom. Go bro!

For the races Tom hadn’t been able to attend, he’d taken to texting her. Mel couldn’t have explained to anyone how special it made her feel when he did.

I can’t watch, she texted back.

Chicken. He’s gonna win.

And he was. There was the streak of silver and red as Aiden’s Delta came round the final bend, in first place. Eyes glued to the monitor, her heart thumping she watched as the man with the chequered flag got ready. Anxiously Mel moved to stand, to cheer him home, but suddenly his car started to slow.

What? Tom texted.

The garage was in uproar as they all watched first Carlos and then Stefano slip past Aiden to take first and second. He limped across the line in third.

Her phone beeped. Man on TV says no fuel ☹

A moment later. I hate this sport.

Mel collapsed back on the chair. Right now she hated it, too. Quickly she typed. Wish you were here to cheer him up.

You do it. He’s happy when you’re there.

‘What’s with all the texts?’ Sally asked, leaning over. ‘Not journos out for blood already, I hope?’

‘No. Just a miserable ten-year-old.’

She nodded sympathetically. ‘I expect the elder brother will be even more unhappy.’

Mel tried to put her professional head back on as she went to hunt down statements for the press from a very despondent garage team. How did they spin this one? It was hard to create an impression of absolute professionalism when your lead driver had just limped into third place on petrol fumes. It was also hard not to watch the images that flashed across the TV screens without her heart twisting. Though Aiden’s mask was firmly in place he walked as if every movement was painful.

By the time he was put in front of the cameras at the press conference, Mel’s eyes stung with the effort of not crying.

‘From certain first to a disappointing third. What went wrong?’

Aiden shrugged his shoulders, fooling nobody. ‘I ran out of fuel. Just one of those things.’

‘Whose fault was it?’

He glared at the questioner. ‘We win as a team and we lose as a team. Today we didn’t get that win, but we did get valuable points and we’re still in with a shot of the championship.’

‘But realistically, to do that you’re going to have to win the next two races.’

‘I was leading today going into the final bend. What makes you think I can’t win the next two?’

The professional in her swelled with pride at how well he handled the questions but the lover knew it was all a performance. She ached to hug away the frustration and dejection lurking in the back of his eyes.

Finally the conference was over and the drivers and sports correspondents meandered out. Mel tried to catch Aiden but she was waylaid by journalists and by the time she’d prized her way out of the room, he’d vanished. Or had he? Was that the rumble of his voice in the adjoining room? Hand on the door handle, she was about to enter when she overheard Carlos.

‘Embarrassing, I think, to run out of fuel. How would you put it? So near and yet, so far?’

‘Did you have anything important to say to me, Carlos?’

‘I was just wondering what was going on in your head today. You raced like a crazy person.’

‘I raced like a man who’s going to beat you.’

‘Ah, but what do you want to win? The Championship, or the girl?’

Mel gasped. What on earth was Carlos playing at?

‘Leave Mel out of this.’

‘But why? She is something else we both want, no? I was thinking to myself. What if I say to Aiden, I’ll give you the championship if you give me the girl? What would he do?’

Tell him to take a running jump. Mel willed the words out of Aiden’s mouth, but they didn’t come. ‘You’re full of shit, Carlos. You had your chance with Mel and you blew it. Besides, you’d no more deliberately throw a championship than I would. Now, if you’ve finished, I’m done.’

Mel heard footsteps coming towards the door and instinctively she turned and hurried back to the conference room. As their footsteps echoed down the stairwell she staggered onto one of the seats, hands trembling, her mind racing. Aiden hadn’t answered Carlos’s question. Of course it was a moot point – Carlos would never throw a race – but that didn’t stop her desperately wishing Aiden had taken her ex by the scruff of the neck and told him he’d never give her up. Ever.

The swish of a door opening made her jerk her head round and there was Aiden, overalls undone to his waist, a white body vest hugging the hard lines of his chest.

‘There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.’ He hunkered down beside her, looking concerned. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes.’ It came out as a pathetic whisper so she tried again. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

She didn’t look it, Aiden thought as he ran a hand across Mel’s pale face. ‘You look tired.’

‘Me?’ She captured his hand and held onto it. ‘You’re not looking too sprightly yourself.’

Because she was right, because he felt so mentally and physically drained he simply wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep, he slumped to the floor by her feet. ‘I cocked up,’ he admitted, forcing the words out. ‘Frank told me to ease off to conserve fuel. Stressed that second was good enough.’ He let out a short laugh, rubbing his free hand across his hot, sweaty face. ‘I couldn’t do it though. I wanted to beat that bastard so much I kept gunning for the overtake.’

Aiden could still see Carlos’s face as he’d tried to wind him up for the second time in as many weeks. The jibe about his father had barely rattled him. The one about Mel had hit straight home. I’ll give you the championship. You give me the girl. Hell, it wasn’t as if Mel was his to give up. Aiden knew she was keeping a bit of herself back from him. Scared to commit, or not sure of her feelings? He wished he knew.

His own feelings weren’t in doubt.

Talking to Carlos had made him realise he’d give up the championship tomorrow if it meant spending the rest of his life with Mel. A frightening admission from a guy who’d spent the last six years thinking about nothing else.

But was it greedy of him to want both?

‘You can still beat him,’ she told him, gently kissing his forehead.

‘Yeah.’ He raised himself higher so his mouth was more aligned with hers. He wanted a kiss that hit the spot. But as he zeroed in on her lips, her phone beeped and instead of focusing her attention on him, she was looking at her screen. ‘What?’ he asked, slightly irked.

Smiling, she showed him the phone. There was a text from Tom. Have you cheered him up yet?

A surprised laugh shot out of him. ‘Does the him refer to me?’

‘Of course. What shall I say?’

‘Give it here.’ He took the phone off her and started typing. Not yet but I’ll spend the rest of the evening trying, love Mel xx

She rolled her eyes at what he’d written and tried to grab the phone back but Aiden quickly pressed send. ‘You regularly text each other, huh?’

‘Well, not regularly, but he has taken to texting when you’re racing. I guess we watched a lot of your races together, so maybe he feels a connection.’

The knowledge that while he was out on the track the two people he loved most in the world were communicating caught at his heart. ‘That’s great,’ he croaked.

‘I really enjoy it. He’s a lovely boy.’ She smiled and bent to kiss him. ‘Almost as lovely as his big brother.’

Her lips were soft and sweet but it didn’t take long for Aiden to up the tempo to wild and hot. It was only when he jammed his elbow against the metal edge of the seat that he retained his senses enough to realise they were still in the press room. Reluctantly he shuffled to his feet, pulling her with him. ‘Kissing you went a long way towards cheering me up, but if there’s to be any further progress in that direction I’m going to need a hot shower and a big bed.’ He stopped for a second to kiss her again. ‘And you.’