The crowd swells, and someone sets off orange flares, which make the whole pit wall jump in unison.“Verstappen takes the lead,” the commentary blares, but who gives a damn about first place?We’re not racing for first.We’re racing for our own best.
Matt moves into the DRS zone, and, off mic, Archie speaks for everyone when he screams, “TAKE HIM, MATT!”
We wait.But...nothing happens.
And then I see it.The ticking up of the numbers on the screen.Matt’s vitals.Then the hesitation.The DRS fires, the rear wing flips open, and instead of flying past that Rossini, Matt drops back.The Rossini presses ahead, and now instead of overtaking and moving up into eighth, Matt has Alpine behind him inching closer and threatening ninth place.
Still.It’s ninth place.I know Matt will be disappointed he couldn’t close in on that Rossini, but it’s our first points.As a team, it’s a huge victory.
When the cars finally cross the line, Matt’s anger and frustration are clear as he climbs out of the car.
“We got points,” I say, although the words feel weak as Matt’s eyes stay on the floor.He waits to be weighed and get out of here as quickly as he can.
“I’m never going to be okay,” he shouts across the garage, as Archie bowls in and throws his arms around his brother.
“Points!”Archie says, as Barry joins us, a look of questioning confusion on his face as though he’s about to starton Matt too.But Archie holds an arm up.“Points.The rest is noise.”
I nod to Archie, and move to intercept Barry, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward Noah, who has just jumped out of his car, beaming with delight at his improvement.
“Eleventh place!”I shout, fist-bumping Noah, encouraging Barry to do the same with a nod of my head.
And then I look back at Matt and Archie.Archie’s hands on Matt’s shoulders, Matt’s head dropped forward.The disappointment overshadowing today’s incredible achievement.
Damn it.Poor Matt.My heart squeezes for him.
I need to talk to him about the crash.I thought Matt needed to see Stavros weeks ago, and now I feel so strongly, in the pit of my belly, that Matt needs to gonow.He needs to skip the two-week break back home in Brackley and head to Greece to speak to his best friend.Stavros might be hurt.He might hate Matt right now.But Matt needs to make a massive effort to show him how he truly feels.
It’s the only way to heal that hurt.
CHAPTER 18
Matt
It’s ridiculous that Chloe is taking her own car from Heathrow to Brackley, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop her.Especially after our fight, if you could even call it that.
After the race, she sat me down.I was still sweaty and frustrated, with half the bloody media watching me.She tried to calm me down and convince me I needed to go see Stavros.
“Stavros doesn’t want to see me,” I replied, wiping my brow with a towel and glugging down a good liter of water in seconds.
“How do you know that for sure, Matt?”
“I sent him loads of messages.”
Even as I said it, I knew it was pathetic.Stavros, the man with the enormous Greek family, who once flew halfway around the world to attend his grandmother’s ninety-third birthday brunch, who handwrites his own damn Christmas cards, deserved more than a few calls and text messages.But I’m a fucking gutless bastard and I can’t face him.
And Chloe knows it.
“Get on the plane,” she said.“Go to him.”
But I didn’t want to hear that.I just walked off, pushed myself up off the floor and left her there, standing on the lot with about a dozen eyes having witnessed what surely looked like a fight.
Since then, I must have checked my phone a million times.No message or missed calls from her, though.I’ll get in touch with her later to apologize.
To make matters worse, coming home always makes me nervous.It’s been a while since I saw Mum, and I know she’s been missing Archie and me over the past few years.I’m not really up for seeing Dad at all, but I have no choice but to face him.
I drive the two-hour trip from the airport and am reminded how nice the countryside can be after being away for so long.I pass ancient oak-lined winding roads with huge, overgrown hedgerows.Everything is turning autumnal and beautiful and familiar.This I missed.
My parents’ house is exactly the same when I pull up to it.The same climbing pink rosebush almost eating the whole of the redbrick facade, the garden wild and overgrown.The shiny black door with the number 7 in silver.I tried so many times to upgrade them, but they weren’t having it.
