‘At this rate? Half an hour?’ came Nellie’s answer.
‘Shit!’ I could still read between the lines of his answer. I was losing time faster than I was losing blood. The white jersey was getting farther and farther away, even as the finish line inched closer.
I’d finish this for my pride, but it would be better for all of us if I could finish it a little faster. Taking a deep breath through my nose, I picked up a bit of speed, rocking on my bike to get my thigh muscles to pull.
‘You haven’t given up yet then?’
‘Not yet,’ I shot back, ignoring the gentle goading in Derek’s tone.
‘What do you think, Nellie? Will she be waiting at the finish line?’
The strike of endorphins through my nervous system was an instant response. Leesa… Her skin, her hair, that smirk she made when she was verbally sparring with me.
‘I reckon so,’ Nellie replied, not subtle at all. ‘She seems to like him, although to be perfectly honest, I have no idea why.’
‘I know what you’re doing,’ I grumbled.
‘Yeah, because it’s working,’ Nellie said with laughter in his voice. ‘I thought she was a bit too clever to fall for you, but you must be more of a catch than I realised.’
‘Of course she’s fucking clever! She’s got an IQ higher than my heartrate right now and that’s saying something.’
Nellie grinned. ‘Gallagher finally found someone, but he’s too much of a wuss to tell her how he feels.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘Maybe it’s his vocabulary that’s lacking, rather than his courage!’ I heard from Derek, up ahead. I was surprised to see him still hanging around to help me limp to the finish.
‘You fuckwit, Sabel! Get back to the front! If I can’t finish this fucking race, then you have to. Grow some balls to go with your piss-poor excuse for a moustache!’
Derek just grinned at me. With a mock salute and a, ‘See ya later, old man!’ that got lost in the wind, he accelerated ahead before he could hear my approving grunt.
‘You call that “mentoring” the new guy?’ Nellie asked.
‘Yup, I’m the bloody leader of this team!’ My laugh was cut off by a groan of pain. ‘Shut up now. We’ve got an appointment with the Col du Tourmalet.’ Where Leesa might be waiting.
I fumbled for the button to activate the radio. ‘Is Leesa listening?’
The shitty day washed over me. I probably wouldn’t have asked that question if I hadn’t been quite so cooked, but I was too tired for embarrassment.
‘I dunno, C,’ came Alan’s voice in a soothing tone. ‘Just get home safe now. She might be at the finish line.’ Along with blessed rest and complex carbohydrates.
The road was lined with spectators blowing horns, cheering and yelling and shaking all kinds of objects at me as I struggled up every metre of altitude gain. A bunch of guys in polka-dot shirts and Cochonou bucket hats gave me a Mexican wave. Cheering rang in my ears as all the spectators waved and clapped and celebrated my progress, even at grandma speed.
I wasn’t a prize today. I was just a guy letting his team help him so I could fight another day.
It wasn’t far now. Keeling over was no longer an option. I could keep pedalling after death – I was certain of that. Something yellow swam in my vision and it took me too long to realise it was the scaffolding of the finish line, still so… far… away at the top of a nasty ascent.
Leesa might not even be there. It was her right. I’d been a dick to her almost from the moment we’d met. But if she was…
I started to imagine her, just up ahead. She might sit in the car with me while we made our way back down to the hotel, holding my hand across the bench seat.
Had I ever held her hand? Linked my fingers with hers as though we were one organism instead of two, like those jellyfish that were actually a whole colony of jellyfish and not just one animal. Except it would just be me and Leesa, not lots of us. Given the way my vision was blurring, there might be two of her by the time I saw her – and not much left of me.
It was impossible to tell what was the crash and what was just the Tourmalet, but I felt as though I’d just donated a kidney – and maybe a lung. And still the finish line just seemed to get farther and farther away. But I wouldn’t stop.
I was writing my narrative – the start of it anyway – the way I wanted to go on. Sometimes my heart ruled my head, but that didn’t have to be a bad thing. My heart was getting me up the Tourmalet today. This was my race –mylife.
I just wanted Leesa to appear and give me another chance – to make things different. Because I wanted her in my life more than anything. Miserable and in pain and drained of everything except the steel in my spine, I just wanted the chance to show her I’d grown up.
