Page 1 of Falling Fast
Prologue
THERE’S A SCENE NEAR the start ofThe Wizard of Ozwhen Dorothy opens her front door and the grey world of 1930s Kansas has been replaced by one of glorious technicolour. That’s how I feel at this moment as the lift doors open to reveal a large, open-plan office decorated in shades of sunflower yellow and bright sparkling white. Only this isn’t Oz, Wonderland or any other fantastical realm hidden behind an ordinary-looking door. This is the Quezada Formula 1 team UK headquarters, and I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.
I’m so impressed I can’t move. I just stand and stare, pulse racing, until the lift doors start closing again and I have to quickly wriggle through the gap to avoid missing my floor. It’s not the most dignified start to my interview, but thankfully nobody is looking in my direction. They’re all busy, doing important Quezada-related things, so I smooth my hands down my black blazer, check that my long auburn hair is still neatly restrained in a sleek ponytail and allow myself a moment to breathe in the atmosphere.
It’s not quite the mothership, since this office is nearMilton Keynes and the team’s main base is on the outskirts of Barcelona, but it is home to the managerial and public-relations departments, and that’s good enough. The fact that I’ve made it this far, to a job interview with arguably the greatest team in F1 history, renders me breathless with excitement. All I have to do now is convince Jasper Ramirez, director of Global Communications, to take me on.
I think I have a reasonable shot. I’m efficient, organized and meticulous. I make planning into an art form. I’m also dedicated, motivated and prepared to work every hour in the day, with only catnaps and black coffee to sustain me, because I’ve wanted a job in Formula 1 – specifically with Quezada – since I was fifteen years old. And, seeing as my driving skills are disappointingly average, being part of their communications team – talking about F1, persuading others to talk about F1 and spending my days generally enthusing about F1 – is the next best thing.
I want this job so badly I can taste it.
Since it’s going to look weird if I don’t move soon, however, I straighten my shoulders and head for the nearest desk. All the furnishings are yellow, making the office look like the interior of some gigantic beehive, buzzing with activity. But then Quezada isn’t just a racing team; they’re a global brand. Even people who don’t like cars have heard of them.
I knew they were the team for me the moment I first saw them race. It was a defining moment of my life, like being adrift in the middle of a vast ocean and glimpsing a lifeboat ahead. If it wasn’t for Quezada, I might still be lying on a sofa, too depressed to get up, let alone make a plan for my future. Yellow has been my favourite colour ever since, even though it does nothing for my pink-toned complexion. If required, I’mprepared to give an impromptu lecture on the history of the company (founded by two brothers, Adan and Pedro Quezada in 1962) along with the dates and details of their thirty-seven world championships and thirty-five Constructors’ titles. Basically, I’m the most passionate candidate they could ever hope to meet, but I’m also not above begging on my hands and knees if that’s what it takes.
‘Hi.’ I greet the receptionist. ‘I have a ten o’clock appointment with Jasper Ramirez.’
‘That’s me.’ A man of around forty, with green eyes and shoulder-length dark hair, answers from a few feet away, standing up from where he’s perched on the edge of a desk. ‘You’re right on time.’
‘Ava Yearwood.’ I give him a firm handshake.
‘Also known as Single Seat News.’ He smiles as he says the name of my podcast. ‘Welcome to Quezada, Ava.’
I smile back because the words sound like music to my ears. ‘Thank you. I’m happy to be here.’
‘The feeling is mutual. Let’s get the formalities over with, shall we?’ He waves a hand, gesturing for me to follow him. ‘Come this way.’
Jasper’s corner office is glass on all four sides – two of which have views of landscaped gardens – with an impractical white carpet and minimal decor. There are only three pieces of furniture in the room: a shiny curved desk that looks space age, and two yellow leather chairs on either side. Everything looks expensive and spotless, just like I always imagined it would.
‘I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to look over your CV properly yet.’ Jasper sits down at the desk and opens one of four laptops, his eyes flitting over the screen for a few secondsbefore turning back to me. ‘But your name was passed to me by Giovanni Bauer. You two are friends, is that right?’
‘Yes.’ Technically, I know Gio through his former fake, now real, girlfriend, Maisie, but even if their situation wasn’t a secret, it would be way too complicated to explain.
‘And you want to work in Formula 1?’
‘I do.’ I answer emphatically because it’s impossible to overstate this. ‘As well as my podcast, I’ve done some volunteering at local motorsport events and I’m in a lot of online forums. I’m basically obsessed.’
‘I know the feeling.’ Jasper chuckles. ‘Although I have to ask, if you’re friends with the current world champion, why doesn’t Gio get you a job at Fraser?’
‘Because he knows I support Quezada. It’s been my favourite team ever since I watched Torres beat Sullivan in Melbourne.’
‘Torres?’ Jasper leans back in his chair. ‘When was that, six seasons ago?’
‘Yes. It was his last year before he retired. That was the race that hooked me. I’ve been loyal to Quezada ever since.’
‘But your podcast is on F1 in general?’
I nod. ‘I try to be objective and fair.’
‘Good. Fair is important.’ He looks down at his laptop again. ‘So, like I told Gio, we have an entry-level position in our Communications department, but there are lots of opportunities for progression. I see you have an A-level in Spanish?’
‘I do. I thought it might be useful some day.’
‘And your degree is in Media Studies?’
‘It will be. I sit my final exams in May.’
‘Ah …’ His brow knits. ‘May?’
