‘I don’t know how you sat through hundreds of these,’ I say, re-cocooning myself in my blanket. ‘My nerves are shot to hell.’
Mum shrugs. ‘It gets worse once you have a child, but Balinese masseuses help. And booze, naturally.’
I slump back against the sofa and watch as Jack takes the podium. A three-time World Champion. He’ll go in the Hall of Fame. And I’ll be a footnote in his story. Probably not even that.
‘Now you can close the chapter,’ Mum says gently.
I don’t want to close the chapter. I want to be in Qatar with his team, jumping up and down with Georgie. I want to be the one he runs to first, slick with sweat and brimming with pride. I want to go to the afterparty and be showered in confetti and watch fireworks explode overhead and feel like life doesn’t get better than this.
But I can’t. So even though I feel like I’m dying inside, I have to close the chapter.
Chapter 53
JACK
MONACO
There’s time to make a quick tea before I call my grandad. We talk every Monday, though next Monday will be different because I can visit his nursing home in Essex. The thought drags a smile out of my permanently sullen face.
I tip in the milk and freeze. For fuck’s sake. Earl grey with a drop of milk – I’ve made Minnie’s tea. I cover my eyes with my hands and consider drinking it anyway, but I’ll break down in front of Grandad, and he’ll tell everyone in his home that his grandson’s lost his marbles, then Mum would ring, and finally Dad, who’d call me soft. I don’t even know how I’d explain the situation to them.
I wonder what Minnie’s doing right now. I can’t even picture her in her house because I’ve never been. I’ll never step foot in her teenage bedroom. I’ll never sit in the kitchen where it all started. I’ll never meet her dogs. There’s a whole side to her I’ll never know. The thing that weirdly cuts the most is I’ll never win her mum over. I’m not a meet-the-parents kind of guy, but Cara’s the most important person to Minnie, and it stings that she got the wrong impression of me. Or maybe I proved her right, in the end.
The blood rushes to my throat and I call Grandad before I can work myself up more about it. On the second attempt, two huge nostrils flash up, with round glasses perched above and pale eyes peering from behind. He leans away and his face becomes normal-sized. He’s in the armchair in his room. I can picture his phone propped up on the dresser.
He mutters something to someone out of shot, his eyes half-slits as he strains to see me, before finally beaming. ‘Oi oi, there’s my second favourite grandson!’
My lips stretch into a grin. It pulls at my cracked nose and chapped lips. ‘Rude! I’m the only one here, aren’t I? Ted’s nowhere to be seen.’
His laugh’s hearty – a smoker’s rasp – and it sounds like long evenings in his garage fixing up my kart together.
‘Y’alright, Grandad? Finally got the hang of FaceTime then.’
‘Nah it was all Shirl.’
‘You talk a lot about Shirl. Anything going on?’ I lift an eyebrow.
‘On your bike, lad. No one will ever replace my Jean.’ Interesting. She’d been going downhill for a while before she died, and he was devastated when it eventually happened, but you’d think after five years he’d be up for moving on. He pauses. ‘Ace job in Qatar, you champ.’
‘You saw it? Wasn’t it during your roast?’
He pulls his hoity-toity face. ‘Got special dispensation to eat in my room. Can’t miss my grandson being crowned athree-time World Champion.’
‘I appreciate the effort.’
‘I tell you, that Blanchet’s a cheeky bastard, in’e?’ I doubt Étienne would appreciate hearing his name pronounced with a hard ‘ch’. ‘’is brother wasn’t such an ’ard racer in F3. Remember ’im from back in the day?’
‘Sure.’
We talk about the race in depth, with him going through his usual list of observations and learnings which are often so astute I pass them over to the team. His body might be failing him but his brain’s sharper than mine.
We move on to talking about family. Mum’s at a spa, Dad’s just come back from a golfing weekend, and Teddy and his carer are at a theme park with his swimming club. Joy flickers inside me at the thought of him laughing his head off on rides with his mates. These brave people go through bigger things every single day than what I’m going through temporarily, and a little perspective feels needed at the moment.
‘You look tired, son,’ Grandad remarks.
‘End of a long season, innit.’
‘If you say so.’
