Games Lovers Play (9 page)

‘It was your bloody fault, Jake. You drove into the back of him in your haste to get past. You had no room for such a manoeuvre, and you know it! The car's a write-off, all because of your obsession. All our hard work for nothing!' He pushed the man away from him. ‘Well, from here on in, you're on your own. Bert and me are leaving!'

‘What do you mean, you're leaving?'

‘We'll find work for another driver, one who wants to win races,' Bert said. ‘A professional, not some fucking madman!'

The two men walked away leaving Barton speechless.

After the prize-giving, Sam saw his car safely loaded. He removed his overalls, took Connie by the hand and walked her to his motorcycle. ‘It's time to celebrate, sweetheart,' he said and kissed her.

John Baker watched as Sam drove away with Connie on the pillion of his motorcycle. Having watched the race, he had to admit the man was a superb driver, but he couldn't help the feeling of jealousy as he thought this weekend would have been the perfect opportunity for him to take Connie to some hotel room and enjoy her young firm body. He couldn't help but wonder if that was where the two of them were heading now – to some discreet place to make love. He climbed into his car and joined the queue forming to leave the racetrack.

Sam drove as far as Banbury before stopping at a small country hotel, and as he climbed off the bike and removed his helmet, Connie saw how tired he looked. Why wouldn't he be, she thought. After all, the race was not only a long one, but the concentration he had needed was mentally draining too.

‘Why don't we grab something to eat, and then I think you should sleep, you look worn out,' she said.

His look of relief was her reward. ‘You really wouldn't mind?'

‘No, of course not, why would I?'

Putting his arm round her he kissed her forehead. ‘I promised we'd celebrate, that's why.'

‘We can do that later. Come on, I could eat a horse!'

Although Sam was bone weary, he too was hungry, and they both ordered roast beef with all the trimmings. He was thirsty and ordered a pint beer at the bar, where they sat until they were called to the table. Connie had half a bitter. The fumes from the cars and the excitement of the race had dried her mouth too.

‘Today was quite an education,' she told him. ‘Very different from the last time I watched you race.'

He frowned. ‘Yes, and if it hadn't been for that crazy bugger I'd have won it!'

‘It was a miracle that no one was killed,' she said. ‘When that wheel flew through the air I was certain someone was going to be hurt – or worse.'

Shaking his head, Sam said, ‘I'll be very surprised if Barton isn't banned after today. He deliberately hit that car trying to pass when he didn't have the room. I suppose he thought he could shunt it out of the way. The man's a menace!'

Chuckling, she said, ‘The other driver thumped Jake. The stewards had to pull them apart.'

At that moment they were told their table was ready and they settled down to eat.

Back at Silverstone, the race committee had summoned Jake Barton to their office and asked him to wait outside. Inside they discussed the accident and deliberated their next move. They were all in agreement that this time Barton, who was a rogue driver anyway, had gone too far and had deliberately endangered life. Some spectators had been injured, but fortunately there were no fatalities. His actions would not be tolerated. They called him in.

Half an hour later, he walked out of the office, his face white with shock. He wandered over to where the remains of the Jaguar were being loaded on to his truck and stood looking at the wreck as he smoked a cigarette and tried to come to terms with the decision made against him. He'd been banned from racing for six months, his mechanics had walked out and now he was on his own. He couldn't believe it. He still had his garage where he worked on private cars, but that wasn't who he was. He was a racing driver first and foremost. They couldn't do this to him! Well, he'd appeal. No way could he allow Sam Knight to have a clear field. No way!

Connie and Sam had finished eating and had made their way to their room. Connie went into the bathroom to freshen up, and when she returned Sam was lying on the bed asleep, fully dressed. She gazed fondly at him and carefully removed his shoes, then climbed on the bed beside him, where she too fell asleep, the excitement of the day catching up with her also.

Several hours later she woke. The bed next to her was empty, and she could hear the bathwater running. Stretching her stiff legs, she climbed off the bed, looked at her watch and was surprised to see it was eight o'clock. Sitting in front of the dressing table, she combed her tussled hair, freshened her make-up and waited. Her heart beating a little faster as she did so.

In a few minutes, Sam came out of the bathroom wearing just a bath towel around his waist. He smiled at her when he saw she was awake.

‘Feel better now?' he asked as he leaned over and kissed her.

‘I can't believe I slept so long.'

He pulled her to her feet and held her close. ‘We both needed to rest, but now …'

As he put his arms around her, she could smell the scent of soap and aftershave, feel the taut body against hers. Felt the longing in her loins as he kissed and caressed her.

Sam slowly undressed her and led her to the bed. He was a considerate lover, making sure she was enjoying every move, whispering words of love in her ear as he explored her body endlessly with fingers that caressed and probed until she thought she'd die with longing, and when he eventually entered her, she was ready for him.

At last they lay exhausted in each other's arms. Replete, content. He held her close, stroking her face, kissing her. Running his fingers through her hair.

Connie lay beside him, marvelling at the warmth of his body. This wasn't like the sex she'd had with John Baker. This was different. There was a tenderness about it, a meaning. It wasn't just sex for sex's sake, and she realized how she'd let herself be used before. But with Sam she'd felt special. Cosseted … loved, even. She gazed up at him and thought how lucky she was.

He looked back at her with affection, but there was something else she couldn't fathom. Puzzlement? Then the realization came. Had he guessed after all that she wasn't the virgin he'd imagined her to be? She didn't dare put her fears into words, but waited to see if he said anything. But the moment passed, and he said nothing. She breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Come on,' he said. ‘Let's get dressed and go down to the bar for a drink. Are you hungry?'

‘Not really after such a big lunch, just peckish.'

‘Me too, we'll order some sandwiches.'

The bar was busy, and they knew from the conversation that there were some spectators from the race meeting there. They were discussing the accident. Sam and Connie sat quietly and listened.

‘That Jake Barton is a madman,' said one. ‘I've seen him race before, he has no consideration for other drivers, he's just hell-bent on winning.'

‘Well, he won't be doing that for a while,' said another. ‘I heard the committee has banned him for six months.'

‘And so they should! People were injured out there today, all because of him.'

Connie looked quickly at Sam, who put his finger to his lips. He hoped no one would recognize him in the crowded bar.

‘Damned shame!' remarked another man. ‘That Sam Knight had the race in the palm of his hand, as far as I'm concerned. I reckon he'd have won but for Barton.'

They all agreed. ‘I also heard that Barton has a bee in his bonnet about Knight. He thinks he's the better driver and he was trying to catch him when he crashed.'

‘He's not in the same class as Sam Knight,' said the first man. ‘Now there is a good driver!'

Connie was thrilled to hear this. After all she was with Sam and he'd just made love to her. She swelled with pride, but Sam turned away so the men couldn't see his face. The last thing he wanted was to be involved in this conversation and was relieved when the men left the bar together and he could relax.

‘So Barton's been given a six-month ban. He's lucky not to be banned altogether,' he remarked. ‘To be honest I'm not surprised, and racing will be that much safer without him.'

‘From what you and the boys have said, he won't be happy about that, will he?' asked Connie.

‘Oh, no! I expect he'll appeal. But I doubt he'll win. He's been pushing his luck for a very long time. He's been warned before now.'

Connie didn't say any more but the whole scenario worried her. She'd seen Jake Barton at the track and thought he looked a nasty piece of work.

The next morning Connie and Sam made love again, then reluctantly left their room to have breakfast before driving home. She'd loved every moment with him and told him so.

‘I'm glad,' he said. ‘My way of life doesn't suit everyone, but it's who I am and it will be this way for many years to come, I hope. Next month at Brands Hatch there is a Formula One race and I'm going to take you to see it. That's for real drivers!'

‘But you're a real driver!'

He laughed. ‘Yes, in Touring Car Racing, but these are the big boys. You've not seen anything until you see Stirling Moss and Juan Manuel Fangio behind a wheel. Their cars are real beasts.'

‘Do you want to be like them?' She didn't like the sound of this at all.

‘It would be wonderful, but frankly, I think I'm where I belong.'

The following day the local paper was full of the race and casualties. Barton's picture blazed across the front page. LOCAL DRIVER CAUSES CRASH AT SILVERSTONE. The following report ended by saying he was now banned for only six months when some thought the ban should have been permanent.

When Jake read the report he went berserk. Alone in his garage, he picked up a spanner and hurled it into space, then strode around cursing loudly. He felt no remorse for the damage he'd caused but was filled only with outrage at what he saw as an injustice from the committee towards him. They couldn't put an end to his racing, he wouldn't allow it! Surely they would see sense at the appeal when the furore had died down. Having convinced himself of this he went to the pub.

As soon as he walked in, the chatter ceased and he felt everyone looking at him, but only the landlord spoke.

‘Usual, Jake?'

Jake nodded, paid for his beer and sat down, aware that he was the main topic of conversation, albeit in low tones. He was never a man to take criticism, and eventually he got to his feet.

‘All right, you bastards! If you've got something to say, say it to my face!' He looked at them defiantly.

There was a lot of mumbling by those who knew of his volatile nature, but there was one brave man among them. ‘It's about bloody time you were taken off the racetrack! I've seen you race, and you're a danger to everyone – including yourself.'

‘What gives you the right to say that?'

‘I was at the meeting yesterday, standing close by where you crashed. There was no way you could have passed that car safely but you didn't give a toss. A piece of your car nearly took my head off! That's what gives me the right, mate! As far as I'm concerned you should never be allowed on a track ever again!'

There were mutters of approval from the others.

Then the man added, ‘Pity you don't drive like Sam Knight! At least he doesn't put other drivers at risk, and he manages to win races. You should take a page out of his book!'

It was the last thing he should have said to Jake Barton. Jake flew at him and punched him in the jaw, but the landlord jumped the counter and dragged him away. Then pushing him to the door he said, ‘You're barred, Jake. I don't want you in here ever again!' Then he shoved him outside and slammed the door in his face.

Barton was livid and kicked the door, yelling expletives.

‘That's enough of that, now; stop it or I'll take you down to the station for disturbing the peace and damaging private property!'

Spinning round, Jake saw a police constable standing before him.

Seeing the anger in the other man's eyes, the policeman continued, ‘Don't be foolish, Mr Barton. You're in enough trouble, I would have thought. Go home!'

Jake knew it was time to leave. If he was to win his appeal he couldn't be in trouble with the law. He reluctantly walked away.

In the store on the Monday, Connie told Betty she'd been to watch the race at Silverstone and she told her about the accident. She didn't, however, tell her she'd stayed the night with Sam. She didn't want her friend's disapproval to spoil it all.

Several times during the morning, as she served her customers, she noticed John Baker watching her from a distance. It surprised her as he'd kept well out of her way after their last confrontation … and she wondered why he was doing it. When Betty left the counter for her lunch break, he wandered over.

‘Enjoy your weekend, Connie?'

She was mystified at the interest. ‘Yes, thank you.'

‘Your boyfriend's a good driver, I'll give him that.'

She looked at him in astonishment.

‘I was at Silverstone and watched the race. After, I saw you leave on the back of his bike.'

Connie remained silent, wondering where this conversation was going.

Baker's gaze shifted to her bosom and back again. ‘Take you to bed, did he, after the meeting?'

She felt the colour rise in her cheeks, both from embarrassment and outrage. ‘What I do and with whom is not any of your business,' she snapped, keeping her voice low.

‘Have you told him about our affair? How we would meet after work, what we got up to, how we spent a weekend in Bournemouth?' Seeing the anxious expression in her eyes, he continued, ‘Don't tell me he thinks you're still a virgin? Oh my, is he in for a surprise!'