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Chapter Forty-Nine

Darien

T he season’s been absolutely hellish so far, track temps sweltering and rubber blistering, so it’s only natural we go out with a bang before we get a short three-week spacer. The Las Vegas Grand Prix heralds record-high temperatures that shouldn’t even be remotely possible. We’re using the hardest compounds we have. It’s a high-stress race; high stakes, too – the WDC board looks close, with just a few points between me and Miguel. Maybe it’s because of all the nerves surrounding this race, chaotic as all those set in America tend to be, and the pressure to perform with Heidelberg Hybridge Ring’s future still on the line, that I don’t notice something is off with Shantal right away.

She turns down my offer to join us on the track walk with a wan smile and words of reassurance, says she’s got data to look at for potential simulator plans with Redenc?o, when everyone knows she finished those ages ago. She’s distant in every sense of the word, seemingly in her own world.

Post-race, amid the throngs of people rejoicing in the garage, I’m still holding both my P1 trophy and my champagne bottle when I catch sight of her heading to the data rooms in the motorhome. I may have just stepped off the podium, but I’ve got to figure out what’s been bothering her.

Miguel notices me before she does, though. He leaves his trophy on a tool cabinet and rushes over. ‘Dar. Dar, that might not be such a good idea.’

‘What, you haven’t noticed she’s been off this weekend?’ My forehead furrows in confusion. ‘I don’t know, man, something isn’t right.’

‘Take your chances. It just … it doesn’t look good.’ Miguel’s face is clearly sad. ‘We’ve seen Shantal through a lot of things, but you and I both know we’ve never seen her this detached. You know how she is with her team, with her “players”. I’m afraid it’s something that she’s not going to crack about. Or that you’re not going to like.’

‘I gotta try,’ I reply with a heavy exhale. Miguel just shrugs resignedly, but I go after Shantal anyway. ‘Shantal! Hey!’ I call to her before she heads up the stairs.

It takes her a minute to turn, and when she does, her eyes almost look wide, cornered. I can’t make that worse by backing her into a quiet corner and pulling the truth from her. So I choose the one option I know never fails either of us.

‘Can we go for a drive?’

Shantal wrings her hands the entire time, as we get into my Hybridge Model S and I tear out of the paddock, down towards the exit and all the way through the outside of the track complex, till we’re driving along the fringes of the Strip. It’s way quieter here, no longer pervaded by race fever or casino fever.

I’ve never seen her this way. Upset, sure. Stressed out, yeah. But this is different.

‘Shanni …’ I grip the steering wheel tight as I spare a glance her way. ‘Shanni, what’s been goin’ on? You’re … I’m just worried.’

‘Worried?’ She rolls down her window for more free air. The Nevada heat is no joke, but I get the feeling she’s beating around the bush with me, and I want to find out why.

‘A little, yeah. It’s a race weekend, I know stuff gets chaotic, but … I just feel like you haven’t completely been with us the past couple days. You know?’

Immediately, I feel the atmosphere in the car grow tenser. Uh-oh.

‘I don’t …’ Shantal blows a strand of hair from her face. ‘There’s a lot I need to explain to you, Darien, but I don’t want to do that while you’re here, driving—’

‘I mean, that’s okay,’ I say way too quickly. ‘There’s gotta be a TL;DR version, right? Can you give me that?’

‘I cannot really TL;DR this situation.’

‘Could you try?’ I plead. If this has been eating away at her, it’s been gnawing at my composure, too. How are we so close and yet so far from each other? I need answers as much as she does.

With a sigh, she turns to me and says, ‘Darien, you’ve become … you’ve become so dear to me. You went from a pain in my ass to a friend to …’

Oh, no .

I wait for more. I can’t just let her hit me with ‘friend’ and leave. But nothing else comes, believe it or not.

‘Was that the entire TL;DR version?’

‘That was it.’

‘Okay.’ I try my best to concentrate on the road ahead, one that winds around the city and back to the Las Vegas sign, where an enormous line of tourists waits to get their photo taken. This car ride has suddenly turned into a tropical excursion from hell. ‘So I think I’ll need the full version.’

‘I told you.’

‘Yo. You just friend-zoned me!’

‘I’m not—’

‘Nah. You friends-with-benefits-zoned me.’

‘I don’t—’

‘You’re playing.’

‘I am not playing, Darien.’

The remainder of the drive back is dead silent. We get out of the car without a word and walk to the now-empty track. It’s probably the best way to diffuse the tension, and possibly whatever is going to come.

‘My parents have called,’ Shantal blurts once we’re at the third turn.

That gets me. I try to keep walking and ignore the distress this is causing me, but it must be evident on my face. ‘Your parents?’

‘Darien … They want me to come back to London.’

‘What?’

Is there some reason for her to bolt so quickly? Is it something I’ve done to her – scared her off, maybe. From the guilt written across Shantal’s face, she already knows I’m thinking this.

‘I’ve called Conquest. They had it set up so I was second-half optional for the season, so I’ll still be able to deal with most of the sim stuff remotely. I’ve done the bulk of my job. They’ll send someone else if you guys have any outstanding issues. You’re familiar with the system. The trainers are familiar with the system. The team just needs to come through. And I’ll be doing whatever I can to continue helping with that. I mean, my job depends on it. Yours, too. Our jobs depend on it. I won’t just leave you all without any help. I swear to it, I won’t.’ The words cascade from her lips at breakneck speed.

It’s too much for me. I shake my head, trying in vain to comprehend it all. ‘Shanni. Shantal, what’s going on?’

‘I-I just … I have to go.’ She runs her hands across her face, up into her hair, and only then do I see the suffering hidden behind the guilt in her irises. ‘My mum’s found a guy. They want to plan the engagement.’

What the fuck?

Now I can’t just walk it off. I freeze in my place. I look straight at her. ‘You’re playing, Shantal,’ I repeat.

She just shakes her head, pursing her lips. She’s already blinking furiously to hold back her tears. ‘Both of them … my mother just called me. Just told me.’

It’s too much for me to process.

I move to turn away, to head in the opposite direction to Shantal so I don’t let all my anger out at her, but it’s in vain. I can’t leave her when I hear her start to speak.

‘My mum said I wasn’t the same after Sonia passed.’ Shantal brushes away a tear and continues walking at a pace so clipped I can barely keep up. ‘I guess I thought this would solve it. I mean, back then, when Sonia had just … died, I think they thought it would solve their problems too. Our house used to be full of noise. My parents couldn’t stand the silence.’

‘Did you know?’ I manage.

‘No. No, god, no, I had no idea something would come through.’ She smiles a forced smile, tries to hold it. ‘On the tram that day … I guess this was what some part of me wanted so badly to tell you. When I suggested it to my parents, I thought … I would do whatever it took to bring some happiness back into the house. But now I’ve met you. And now … Darien …’ The tears are flowing down her cheeks as she struggles to form words. ‘When I heard my mum’s voice, Dar, I just, I felt … I didn’t think I’d hear her so happy again, ever. To be the reason for that …’

My hands uncurl themselves from fists, all the momentary fire in my gut fizzling out as I take it all in. If I had the chance to make my mother as happy as she’d been before my father died, would I take that? Would I do whatever it took?

‘You gave me back so many things that I didn’t think I would ever experience again.’ This time, it’s Shantal’s turn to stop walking and face me. ‘But Darien, you tore my lies apart. I can’t pretend I’m numb any more. Because I’m not. I just, I have no idea what to choose. I don’t know how to break their hearts and tell them I want to try to make some space in mine. I don’t know if I can.’

I steady her by the shoulders, though I’m struggling to figure out what I’m supposed to say. Something selfless, or something selfish?

‘Shantal, tell me you won’t—’

As if she’s read my mind, she grips my hands tight, presses her lips to my knuckles. ‘You gave me back so many things,’ she repeats, drawing a deep breath. ‘I just need time to figure out where I go from here. I’m not going to stop working for Conquest. I just … I think I need to go back to London.’

‘Shit.’

‘Yeah.’ Her lower lip quivers just slightly, and that’s enough of a sign for me. I bring her close, and I feel her hands press against my back. I try not to focus on the quiet sniffs as she cries. Damn quiet crier, Shanni. Part of me just wants her to sob out loud. The quiet hurts me more.

I know it’s no one’s fault. It’s poor timing, it’s fate and destiny, and all the stuff I’ve never believed in. But when she’s falling apart in my arms, it’s hard not to feel guilty.