What is this? Do I haveMINNIE DUMPED MEwritten across my forehead? ‘I’m just… homesick.’ It’s not a total lie. Essex is where I’m from, Monaco’s where I live, but for me, home’s not a place, it’s a person – and that person wants nothing to do with me. Fuck me I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. It’s making me poetic.
His eyes crinkle in the corners. ‘Good thing you’re coming back soon, then.’
‘Yeah,’ I say, stretching my arms. ‘Hey, Grandad, I’m curious. You know earlier when you said no one will ever replace Grandma? Would you do it over again? Even with her Parkinson’s and, you know, passing and that.’
He’s looking at me like I’ve announced I’m leaving Pagari to drive for DFK. ‘Course I would. Where did that come from?’
‘Just… wondering. It’s a lot of pain, innit.’
‘You don’t measure a life in how much pain there was, or the bad times – and trust me, there was bad times.’ He itches his nose. ‘When I think of your grandma, I don’t think about clearing up after her or all the pills or the money worries. She’sthat girl I met at that bus stop all them years ago. She’s the mother of my sons. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world. I’d do it over again every time. She wasn’t perfect – Lord knows no one is – but she was my Jean, and she was perfect for me.’
I let that sink in. Grandma was a difficult woman, and from the outside, she blocked my lovely grandad from doing what he wanted to do, like taking me to Italy. But from the inside, it might’ve looked different. They had genuine lifelong love, and a forty-five-year marriage to prove it. I’m sceptical about my parents’ marriage but I guess that doesn’t mean all Bowdens are cursed.
‘There was a girl, Grandad,’ I say softly.
His whole face lights up. ‘Go on, my son! What’s she like?’
‘She’s…’ I look down, trying to squeeze Minnie into a sentence that won’t cripple me, but I can’t do it. I can’t think about her gorgeous blonde hair, her soft skin, her beautiful blue eyes, her kind heart, her infectious laugher, her glasses. I blink rapidly to clear her image from my head. ‘Don’t get too excited, I made a mess. I don’t think she’d take me back if I tried.’
He’s quiet for the longest time, and I can feel my eyes welling up under the heat of his gaze. Fucking hell, he’s going to tell my parents their son’s a mug.
‘What if she hurts me, Grandad?’ I whisper so quietly I’ll be surprised if he catches it.
He looks thoughtful, and I can’t tell if it’s because his hearing aid’s playing up or he’s considering what I said. ‘When you get in that race car, you know there’s a possibility you can get hurt, right?’ he says, and I bow my head. ‘And it’s quite possible – sometimes it’s not even under your control, especially with that gitMicaharound. But you’re not thinkin’ about that when you get in the cockpit, are you? You’re thinkin’ about the chance of success, even if it’s slim.’
I shake my head. ‘Relationships are different.’
‘They’re not different. It’s all mindset. Like I said when you was a little karter: you can do anything you set your mind to, you just got to want it hard enough.’
Chapter 54
MINNIE
SURREY, ENGLAND
‘Shut up! It’s the love fern bit,’ Mum says, throwing a fistful of popcorn at me.
I’m quiet for approximately five seconds. ‘Kate Hudson really reminds me of you in this movie.’
That earns me her full attention. ‘You take that back! She’s psycho.’
‘No she’s not, she’s cunning. And hilarious. And ballsy.’
‘She justblewher boyfriend’snosein front of hisfriends.’
‘But she’s not really like that, she’s pretending. I can imagine you doing that if it was a means to an end.’
She ignores me and looks back at the screen, crossly shovelling popcorn in her mouth. ‘Are you going to yap through the whole of my choice? I didn’t talk throughBride Wars.’
‘That’s becauseBride Wars?—’
The doorbell rings, followed by an explosion of barking.
I turn to Mum accusingly. ‘Did you order from that French deli again?’
‘No!’ she retorts, pausing the TV.
‘They’re the only ones who deliver past nine on a weeknight. They’re really expensive.’ I get up. ‘We’ve talked about this – their Comte Prestige is not worth it.’
