Page 31 of Falling Fast
‘All good?’ Leif falls into step beside me as Nathan heads away.
‘Fine.’ I lift an eyebrow. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’
‘Nathan can be a little blunt.’ He wipes a hand across his brow and his sleeve falls back to reveal a distractingly bulging bicep. ‘I’m not sure this walk was a good idea in the heat.’
I seize the excuse to look up at the sky. He has a point. There isn’t a cloud in sight, only bright, unrelenting sunshine. Great for a beach holiday, not so much for a GP. ‘Do you think it’s going to stay this hot all week?’
‘Unless there’s a storm, which isn’t in the forecast.’ He grimaces. ‘So, probably yes.’
‘Ouch.’ Just the thought of it makes me sweat even more. Between the engine and power unit, F1 cockpits are hot enough without the weather outside adding to the pressure. Drivers’ temperatures can be pushed up to forty degrees, increasing their heart rates and causing impaired judgement, even loss of consciousness. And it’s not like they can simply take a layer off to cool down. Everything they wear is essential for safety, which means all they have to combat dehydration is a small drinks pouch. Honestly, it’s kind of frightening.
‘Time to meet the press.’ Corey comes striding over as we arrive back at the paddock, sunshine glinting off his aviators. If he’s worried by the heat, he’s not showing it. ‘You ready, Ava? I feel in a chatty mood.’
‘I’m all set.’ I get my phone out and then turn back to Leif. ‘I’ve been meaning to say, your interviews ever since Spain have been really good, so thank you and –’ I spread my arms out, feeling awkward suddenly – ‘you know, just keep doing what you’re doing.’
‘Full sentences and a smile?’ He gives me a long look and then flexes his neck from side to side, though not before I catch a surprising twinkle in his eye. ‘OK. Let’s get it over with.’
THE PRESS PEN IS packed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many journalists in one place. There are cameras andmicrophones everywhere, though fortunately there’s also a barrier so we don’t get mobbed. A few other drivers are here already. I can see Zaragoza and Erikkson, the Gold Dart teammates, a few metres away, as well as Gio and Quaid just beyond them. As I look, Gio turns, catches my eye and waves, though I can’t help thinking his expression is strained. He looks tired and stressed, like something’s weighing on his mind.
‘Here we go,’ Corey murmurs in my ear as we approach the first camera and I lift my phone to start recording. ‘This would make a good drinking game for after the race. How about we down a shot every time someone uses the word “upgrade”?’
Ten minutes later, I’m relieved I didn’t get a chance to answer before Corey got into his first interview. The word ‘upgrade’ has been used twenty-two times, since everyone seems to be asking variations on the same question. What do you think of the new upgrades? How confident are you in the new upgrades? How do you rate your chances of success this weekend with the new upgrades? After a while, I notice that Corey’s using the word back at them too, so often that I have to keep my gaze on the ground to stop myself from laughing. Despite that, he still manages to be brilliant, deflecting criticisms, talking up the team and playing down any mention of their former owner, Philip Sawyer.
I’m only half listening, however, because my attention is distracted by Leif. Even though it’s not my job to mind him today, I still find myself straining to hear his answers. He’s pretty good, though, calm and thoughtful, like he’s making a real effort.
‘AND BREATHE.’ COREY GRINS when we finally reach the end of the line. ‘How’s your wrist?’
‘I think it’s about to fall off.’ I tuck my phone back into my pocket and rub my arm. It’s stiff after being held in one position for so long. ‘I can’t believe you were trying to make me laugh.’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’ He chuckles. ‘Come on, it’s time for lunch.’
‘You know, you were really great back there,’ I say as we climb the steps into the team motorhome.
‘Don’t sound so surprised.’
‘It’s not that. I just haven’t seen that side of you before.’
‘Yeah well, I can be serious sometimes. Right now, for example, I’m serious about getting some sushi.’
‘Hey.’ Emika pushes Leif down into a chair when they join us five minutes later. ‘Look after him while I get us some salads, will you? He’s talked more in the last hour than he has in the past year.’
‘Good job, man.’ Corey high-fives him across the table.
‘When can we drive?’ Leif rests his head in his hands.
‘Not long now.’ Corey pops a California roll into his mouth. ‘Only the press conference and Fan Zone to go.’
‘Actually …’ I put my chopsticks down and look between them apologetically. ‘Vienna also needs you to make an appearance in the hospitality centre this evening.’
‘What the fuck?’ Corey looks accusingly at Emika as she comes back with two plates of chicken salad.
‘I told them about the extra event this evening,’ I explain.
‘Oh.’ She slides a plate in front of Leif. ‘Yeah, I was going to break the bad news after lunch. I know, it sucks.’
‘I’m supposed to be meeting someone tonight.’ Corey sounds aggrieved.
‘Don’t tell me, another friend?’
