Gustaf Henriksson’s mum waves as the ladies wander off, and the way Mum twiddles her fingers in return gives me stark déjà vu. It’s reminiscent of my early teenage mum, not my mum of the last ten years. Model Cara. WAG Cara. A woman who went to galas and yacht parties, not one who digs up carrots and births puppies.
‘I admit I haven’t been themostsupportive about your new career,’ she begins, and I raise my eyebrows in confirmation,‘but I’m so, so proud of what you’re doing – really, you’re a luminous broadcaster – and you were saying about how hard it is to get the teams to engage with you, and I thought… I mean, I can’t help you a lot anymore, but I can help you with this.’ I bite my bottom lip. ‘Oh don’t cry, Min, you’ll set me off, and I’ve just paid two-hundred dollars to get my slap done!’
That sobers me up. ‘You paidhow much?’
‘Don’t worry, I won a bit on the premium bonds.’ She brandishes a bejewelled finger at me. ‘Stop frowning, you’ll prune up like your Aunty Debs.’
I cautiously reach for my forehead. ‘You do look amazing,’ I admit. She seems to be standing taller than she does at home, and it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. It’s clear how much she loves this life and being this person.
‘I know!’ Mum beams. ‘Are you impressed I can still fit in my Armani jeans?’ She twirls on the spot and wiggles her bum. ‘Not bad for an old maid, hey?’
I roll my eyes. ‘You’re not an old maid. You’re not even fifty ye?—’
She whacks my arm with the back of her hand. ‘What did I tell you about swearing?! It’s very unladylike.’ She loops an arm around my shoulders and stares out at the paddock like Mufasa did the Pride Lands. ‘It’s all so different, Min. America never gave a crap about F1 when your dad raced, so they lumped us in Indianapolis, and then later it was Austin.’
‘How could I forget? I loved my pink cowgirl hat.’
‘Oh yes, that was adorable. But now we’re inMiami, and the paddock’s inside astadium. Can you believe that?’
‘I know!’
‘It’s enormous – and muggins here wore heels!’
It is enormous. We’re in the bowels of The Hard Rock Stadium, home of the NFL Dolphins. There are street vendors, games and giant screens, and it’s only a tiny portion of thecampus. There are VIP suites galore, supercar displays, a marina (fake water, real yachts. Like, why?), a purpose-built Paddock Club, and Team Village with hospitality units on the football field. You could spend a full weekend here and not engage with the race at all. Over the last two days, I’ve walked sixty thousand steps, and the two biggest days are still to come. My feet are throbbing even in trainers.
‘You hungry?’ Mum asks, releasing me. ‘I was just about to head over to Ackland hospitality.’
‘How did you manage— you know what, I don’t even want to know. Don’t you think that’d be weird with… with my dad being on the board?’ I whisper like he’s standing by the escalators. Thank Christ he’s not, I’ve only just got my head around Monaco being less than a month away. I need those weeks. I don’t know what I’d do if he sauntered out of the Dolphins gift shop.
‘It’ll be fine, it’s not like he’s here. Stop fretting. Do you want to come or not?’ Mum demands.
I consult the time on my phone. ‘I’ve only got half an hour.’
‘That’s plenty of time!’ She strides away, her effortless ability to walk in heels a constant wonder. ‘How does eggs benedict sound?’
Hell of a lot better than the flattened muffin in my bag.
‘So,’ I entwine my fingers over the table, ‘what’s the plan?’
Mum sips her mimosa. ‘Today is about Ackland. Your dad was the most successful driver on their books and he’s still a board member – those are our biggest leverages. As far as the team knows, I’m still the mother of his child and hold sway in his life. They don’t have to know we haven’t spoken in years, and I’d sooner burn him slowly with my incense than speak to him.’
That makes sense, and I nod into my mug.
‘You need to be seen as part of an Ackland racing dynasty. They’re one of the most distinguished, long-standing constructors on the grid. Like them, you’re English, well-spoken and carry yourself with poise. It shouldn’t be difficult to associate you closer with them.
‘Tomorrow is about the other teams,’ she continues. ‘Your fight isn’t with the drivers – they’re just pawns. You want the decision-makers. I’ve lined up drinks with old friends, many of whose husbands are now?—’
‘Cara!’
We look over to see the Ackland team principal zigzagging through the tables. The entire lounge turns to stare as servers dive out of his path. He looks like a regular mechanic in a team polo, but the Cartier watch gives him away, not to mention the resting worried face stemming from fronting a team who’ve gone from first to fifth under his tenure.
He used to drive for Martinelli when my dad had his weird early-life crisis and moved there for a couple of years (and insisted the whole family learn Italian). Finally, my dad came to his senses and went back to Ackland, and we resumed living peacefully without hurling verb conjugations at each other over dinner.
‘Hellodarling!’ Mum rises and gives him a kiss on both cheeks. Her hand lingers on his arm for a fraction of a second.
‘What a wonderful surprise to hear you’re joining us this weekend,’ he says, looking a strange mixture of delighted, bewildered, and hassled. ‘I came straight from the pit wall when I heard.’
‘That’s so kind of you. It’s delightful to be reunited after all these years.’
