‘Hold your horses. Does she have your number?’
‘Yes.’
‘Has she followed up? Has she messaged you? It’s been two weeks, have you heard from her?’
She already knows the answer. ‘No,’ I mumble.
‘Did anything she said indicate that she’s clingy, or that she wants something more with you?’
It was actually the opposite. Again, Georgie knows. I don’t know how, but she does. ‘No.’
‘So what would give you that impression?’
Annoying all-knowing being. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Might we have invented this scenario in our head?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Might Minnie be minding her own business, bossing her work, and not solely focused on trying to trap you?’
When she puts it like that. ‘Fine, I get it. I’m being an idiot.’
Now I feel bad. Minnie doesn’t deserve me making her into some possessive lunatic. This weekend’s hard enough for her. I can’t imagine what it’s like to face your past like that. She’s brave as shit returning to F1, seeing everyone from her childhood, reliving all those painful memories.
‘Thank you,’ says Georgie smugly. ‘Do you know your button sequences between Turns 7 and 8?’
‘Yeah.’ Time to get her back. ‘Hey, did you watch the Arsenal W.F.C. match against Villa?’
‘Did I. Alessia Russo’s on fire at the moment.’
‘They really are a banging side this season,’ I agree.
‘Yeah, they— Hang on, younevercompliment Arsenal. What’s the catch?’
‘No catch, they’re crushing the League. It’s a fact.’
‘I’m not buying it. You’re a Chelsea boy through and through.’
I tongue the roof of my mouth. ‘If only they were this good when you played for them.Whey!’
She rams into my side over the sound of me cracking myself up. ‘You’re so predictable. And I didn’tplayfor them; I was their first mixed-race captain,excuseyou.’
‘My mistake.’ I hold my hands up. ‘On a serious note, what was it like playing for your team?’
She eyes me carefully. ‘This isn’t just another Arsenal wind up?’
‘No, for real. Was it a dream come true?’
‘What, you planning to give this all up and play for Chelsea? You’d take a hell of a pay cut.’
I push her. ‘Cut it out.’
‘You know the answer.’ She smiles at the tarmac. ‘Other squads are all fine and well, but there’s something different about your team. I can’t describe when I first put that strip on. There isn’t a feeling like it in the whole world.’
I imagine myself dressed in Ackland overalls like I used to when I was a kid. They’re not as slick as Pagari’s, granted, but there’s something so classically British about them. The look of the most legendary constructor of all time.
‘Is thatJack Bowden?’ says a voice from inside a troupe of Pagari-branded fans coming out of the tunnel.
