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Chapter Forty-One

Shantal

‘T he numbers from Imola were slightly off in some places,

but I believe, given the constraints, there’s clearly a trend upward there.’

I nod, maybe a little too vigorously, but I’m relieved. With Conquest, I don’t particularly remember having a fear of my boss—he tends to be the conduit rather than the final say. During the Crystal Palace project, it was the team’s manager who had the authority to disband our arm of the training division. So it’s a weight off my shoulders when Afshin Demir sings my praises to Conquest over this end-of-half-season video call.

My boss, an older middle-aged man named Paul Marchese who’d once (allegedly) shaken hands with the Queen, beams from his little rectangle on my screen beside Demir. ‘I’ve received the data. Shantal, I have to agree with Mr Demir. It’s a pleasure to see such improvement. Even after Heidelberg’s team fed it through the software to make sure we aren’t looking at an increase in lap times due to the car or the drivers – thank you, Mr Demir, for that – it’s brilliant data. We see this excellent curve when we look at Darien and Miguel’s turn times from last year moving on to this one, and factoring out the handling on the vehicles, their reaction times are beautiful.’

‘And those are the little things. We haven’t even mentioned the trophies,’ points out Demir with a smile. ‘This is the most successful season Heidelberg Hybridge has enjoyed in a long time. Mr Marchese and Ms Mangal, I don’t believe I can thank your team enough. So Ms Mangal, we would be delighted should you choose to remain with us for the rest of the season. I’m sure our staff and drivers would absolutely appreciate it.’

I peer at Marchese’s rectangle to gauge his reaction, and it’s a series of excited nods as vigorous as mine.

‘Of course, we completely understand if you would like to return to—’

‘I’d love to stay on,’ I blurt suddenly.

For a minute, I think I’m screwed, having cut off the team principal of Heidelberg Hybridge in his own video call, but a grin quickly spreads across his face. ‘Oh, wonderful .’

The call ends with all kinds of gushing and pleasantries, and when I close my laptop, I can’t quite believe what I’ve done.

I was the one with the least hope when I arrived here. I remember the way my blood seemed to freeze when I thought about doing any of this on my own. But now I have proved myself. The data curves, in true sports-nerd fashion, still flash before my vision. Brilliant data. Data we developed the mechanism for.

I get up from my desk chair and push it in, adjusting Sonia’s ever-present photo. Her smile seems a little bigger. A little more optimistic.

‘I’ll get until December now,’ I tell her. ‘Among the stars. You’d love it. And I guess, maybe … you’d love him.’

It almost makes me laugh to myself. It feels like the ground has moved beneath my feet since the events of just a few days back. I wonder if that has to do with how badly my thawing heart seems to want to make room for someone else. And I can’t say I don’t crave the stolen glances, the minute touches, the air of shared understanding. The feeling of that kiss in Imola.

‘Among the stars,’ I repeat. Darien’s got some recovery to do, but the team is on the rise. I’ve earned myself approval, and more time here. Time to be free .

Perhaps the stars are closer than I ever imagined they could be.