Pole Position (22 page)

It amused me that I had more luggage than Anita. Along with my clothes and toiletries, I had my laptop case, camera bag, and a pile of books and magazines.

We had a sharp exchange of words as we prepared to leave. Rather annoyingly, and reminiscent of my mother, she insisted I take some of my painkillers. For heaven’s sake, I wasn’t a child. I could take care of myself. We compromised on a half dose and finally left mid-morning. The meds made me feel woozy and nauseous, and I wanted to make the most of this break. I was painfully aware we’d be apart for a month after this. It’d been bad enough just spending a long weekend apart, a month would be a nightmare.

She drove carefully, but once she had the feel of the Jeep she became more confident, and I dozed some of the way. The motorway part of the journey up the M56 was slow and tedious, and there had been an accident farther up, which we couldn’t avoid. I set my iPod playing a random mix of Foo Fighters tracks and closed my eyes to rest. I was especially aware we’d be driving past a car wreck, and I was keen to avoid seeing it.

I knew when we approached the accident. Anita sucked in a breath when we stopped yet again in the queue to crawl past it. I kept my eyes shut tight and focused on Dave Grohl’s rasping vocals. I felt her hand seek mine and flutter over it, unwilling to wake me, but wanting the comfort of my touch. Coward that I was, I stayed still, and pretended to be asleep. Once we were past it, the car sped up to a normal traveling pace, and I figured it was safe to “wake up”. I yawned, stretched, and opened my eyes to smile at her.

“Everything okay?”

She smiled back, but it looked forced. “Fine. I was thinking of stopping for coffee, do you mind? There’s a service station a couple of miles up.” She briefly held out her left hand and squeezed mine.

“No problem. Coffee sounds good.”

She held my hand tight as we left the car in search of a drink. It took all my effort, but I finally coaxed her back into a happy mood, fooling about and cracking silly jokes. We drank bad coffee, ate surprisingly good croissants and bought some chocolate to nibble on for the rest of the journey. She looked tired and pale, and I wondered how she had been affected by my accident. It was bad enough being in it, to watch it happening must have been hard. I knew my dad had shown her the video footage. He’d offered to show me, but I declined. I just wanted to forget all about it.

We had a leisurely drive the rest of the way. The A55 route along the pretty North Wales coastline was quiet, and we admired the sights and reminisced over the places we’d holidayed as children. By mutual agreement, we stopped in the pretty, walled town of Conwy for a late lunch, and wandered round being tourists, taking photographs and eating ice creams. I mentioned I’d never explored the castle there, and we agreed to come back some day and do so.

With our good mood fully restored, we set off for the last leg of the journey. This was new territory for me, and she gave me a running commentary along the dual carriageway across the island.

She became excited as we approached a small village on the road to Holyhead. “We’re coming up to Valley, close to the air base, so watch out for low flying jets.” She gave me a big grin. “I’m coming off the main road here, we’re going the scenic route for the last few miles.”

I peered out of the windows, looking for the jets she mentioned, but there were none. The scenery though, was spectacular. We popped over a stone bridge and through a series of small hamlets before arriving at a seaside resort called Trearddur Bay. She pulled onto an even smaller road that wove along a series of breathtaking bays and beaches, some rocky and some sandy. We were heading inland again and climbing now, and I saw the sea crashing onto the rocks way below us. She glanced across, a smile playing on her face. “You’re right, this is a good car. We get a great view from up here.”

She pointed out Holyhead Mountain, looming ahead of us. “Mum and Dad’s house is in the shadow of the mountain. It deflects the worst of the weather, which means it’s surprisingly sheltered.”

Next came a narrow farm track and she drove as carefully as she could, trying her best not to jolt me. Thankfully, the suspension cushioned most of the bumping, but it was still uncomfortable.

“And here we are. Welcome to Bryn Dinas.” There was a clear note of pride in her voice as she pulled onto a graveled parking area and killed the engine.

The guest house was built in the local gray-stone and sprawled around a central courtyard, with several outbuildings and flower gardens visible. I saw a small play area with two swings and a children’s slide, and several picnic tables and benches on the grass.

A shorter, plumper version of Anita emerged from the house, a border collie bouncing at her side. Anita scrambled from the car, and ran to her. They embraced for a few moments, the dog leaping up at her and barking a vigorous welcome. I figured it was time to say hello.

I opened my door and climbed down. The dog ran to me, and Anita grabbed its collar just as it tried to jump up. “
Down
, Maddie.” The dog ignored her. “Mum, can you please take Maddie? I don’t want her bumping into Jon.” Her mother obliged, quieting the dog a little.

Taking my hand firmly in her own, Anita turned to her mother. “Mum, this is Jon. Jon, meet my mum, Kathy.”

Her mother took my hand with barely concealed interest. “Very pleased to meet you. Anita said you’d been in an accident, but didn’t tell me any more. For all I knew you’d be on crutches or missing a leg or something.”

I smiled. I liked her already. “No, just a few bumps and sprains.”

“And three cracked ribs—” interrupted Anita “—which is why I don’t want Maddie knocking you over.”

Her mum smiled. “Walking wounded then, but you must be tired from the journey. Come on in and have a seat, I’ll get the tea brewed.”

They chattered happily together while Kathy settled me in a comfortable armchair by a sunny window. As soon as I sat, the exhaustion caught up with me, which was ridiculous since we’d been sitting almost all the way here. Anita glanced at me, concern written on her face.

“I’m fine,” I reassured her. “You go and catch up. I’ll stay here.” She smiled and dashed off.

Minutes later, a tall, bald man strode into the lounge. “You must be Jon. I’m Geoff, Anita’s father, no don’t get up.” He bent down and shook my hand with a firm grip that made me wince. He had to have seen the bandages, because he released my hand immediately. “Sorry, how foolish of me. Anita said you’d had an accident, but you looked so well I forgot to ask how you are.” His gray eyes stared keenly at me.

“Thanks, I’ll be fine. Just a few knocks and bangs.”

“You’re not a biker are you?”

Anita and her Mum walked in behind him. Anita gave him a hug while her mother spoke sternly. “Now then, Geoff, let the poor lad have some tea before you subject him to the inquisition.”

I smiled gratefully and spoke in an undertone to Anita, who settled herself on the arm of my chair. “You didn’t tell your parents anything about my accident?”

She winked at me. I understood straight away. They’d no idea what I did for a living, or what had happened. That made things much easier.

“No, I didn’t.” She turned to her parents. “Jon was in a car crash last week, but it wasn’t his fault. He was trying to avoid an overturned car when he got caught up in the wreckage.” She took my hand protectively. “And he’s not a biker.”

“You weren’t in the car at the time, then?” Her father looked relieved.

“No, Dad. Jon was on his own.”

Geoff looked at me. “You’ll indulge me. Anita is our only child, and we’ve spent all our lives dreading the day when she brings home some dirty great biker in a leather jacket. I hate motorbikes, dangerous things.”

“I can assure you, I don’t ride and have never ridden a motorbike. Although”—I gave Anita a teasing grin—”I do own a leather jacket.”

It was a good evening. Anita chattered non-stop with her parents. I’d never seen her so talkative before, but I guess they had a lot of catching up to do. It was some months since she last visited. Dinner was excellent, and we played cards afterward.

My head ached, and I tried to stifle my yawns. When Anita noticed she looked immediately guilt-stricken and insisted I go up to bed. I’d been given a pleasant double bedroom and Anita came upstairs with me.

Her father was just behind her, walking past the open doorway, and Anita spoke loudly. “My room is just along the corridor. Can I get you a drink of anything before you turn in?”

She slipped her arms around my neck and kissed me tenderly. “Don’t worry,” she whispered in my ear, “it’s only for tonight. Give you time to get your strength up.”

****

I awoke feeling surprisingly refreshed, and stretched cautiously. The headache had subsided to a dull throb, and my ribs were definitely on the mend. My hand movements were still restricted, and I had to tug the elastic wrist bandages off with my teeth, but that was improving daily. I examined the beard growth across my face. Not so good, but shaving could wait another couple of days until my fingers were more steady. Better to have a face of long stubble than razor cuts.

Fastening my shirt buttons took a few minutes, but I was soon dressed and headed downstairs in search of Anita. I heard a rumble of voices, smelled bacon cooking, and found them in the kitchen.

I paused in the doorway, absorbing the tranquil family scene in front of me. In stark contrast to the pitched battles at my parents’ home, Anita and Geoff sat at the table, heads close together as they examined a huge silver trophy and what looked like a red rosette. Kathy stood next to a long work surface, writing some notes, while talking to a large black cat sitting beside her. The dog raised her head at my presence and whined softly, alerting them to me.

Anita greeted me with a brilliant smile. “Morning, sleepy, I wondered if you were getting up today.”

I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise. “And you’ve been up how long?”

“Hours.”

Kathy came over and pulled out the seat nearest to me. “Ignore her. She’s been up half an hour tops. I’ve kept you some breakfast in case you were hungry. Would you like bacon and eggs? There’s fresh coffee on its way.”

I tucked in, listening to the lazy chat between Anita and her parents. They had an easy, gentle affection that made me envious.

“You’ll be relieved to know I’ve left the freezer well-stocked for you. Unless Anita’s been taking cookery lessons recently, you’d starve if you were relying on her to provide food for you.” Kathy laughed at Anita pulling a face at her. “Does that little Irish girl still do all the cooking for you? What was her name, Colleen?”

“Colette. And yes she has been, but not for much longer.” Anita hesitated. “She’s leaving us soon, got a job in Manchester and is moving out to live closer. It’s a bummer. I’ll have to ask you to teach me how to cook a few basics.”

I was interested, despite myself. “I thought she and Danny were an item?”

A shadow crossed her face. “They are, or rather, they were.”

“What happened?” Anything that might upset my greatest enemy was good news to me.

“She thought… Well let’s just say it’s their business.” Anita was firm and wouldn’t say any more.

Kathy joined us at the table, and poured fresh coffee for everyone. “Poor Danny, he doesn’t have much luck.” She turned to address me. “We grew up next door to the Websters, and Anita’s known them all her life. Danny adored her from the time she was tiny, but she never paid him any attention. We used to joke they would end up together, but she always had other ideas.” Kathy took a sip of coffee and smiled warmly at me. “To be honest, I’m glad. They would have made a disastrous match.”

“
Mum
. Jon doesn’t want to hear about Danny.” Anita’s voice held a warning note, and I glanced at her, amused. She’d gone bright red. I was happy not to hear anything more about that bastard, but I was very interested to know just why Anita was blushing such a deep shade of crimson. And wouldn’t meet my eyes.

I was keen to change the subject and equally keen to forget Danny’s embarrassing outburst. Why had I never seen this before? Never understood what he really wanted? And the bigger question, could we go back to being just friends? It was too much to think about, so I pushed it from my mind.

Reaching across the table for my lovely Charrington trophy, I showed it to Jon. “You didn’t see my cup. I won the Blue Riband competition at Charrington on Sunday.”

He stared at me with a strange expression on his face. As I watched, he snapped out of it and duly admired my prize.

“Well done. I’m very impressed with the way you ride.” The double-entendre was blatant, and I had to suppress a gurgle of laughter as he gave me a wicked leer.

“Why don’t you show Jon around while we finish packing?” Mum shooed us out of the kitchen and with Maddie firmly at our heels, I led Jon round the house. Six guest bedrooms—of which he’d been given the largest—lounge, playroom, sunny conservatory, and dining room. Outside, in the weak September sunshine, I showed him the bunkhouse for campers and the sweeping gardens, the borders filled with cheerful sedums and Michaelmas daisies.

Sinking onto one of the swings, I kicked it into movement. Jon sat on the other and gazed at the scenery. It alarmed me how pale he was. I’d do my best to look after him this week.

I pointed out some of the local landmarks. “On the other side of the mountain, only about three miles away, is Holyhead, our nearest town. Trearddur Bay you’ve already seen, closer, and handy for basic items from the general store. We’ve a sandy beach within walking distance, although we often drive down to Trearddur to watch the windsurfers in the Bay. Just up the road is the local riding school. Their fields back onto ours, but they don’t tend to use them in the winter months.”

Jon flashed me a lazy smile. “How long have they been here? Your parents I mean.”

“They’ve had this place for three years, but we’ve been coming here on holiday since I was tiny. Not here exactly, but round this general area. I know it almost as I well as I know Cumberley.”

“It’s peaceful.” He swung a little, scuffing his toes on the ground. “I sometimes think about living somewhere like this.”

I laughed, surprised. “Isn’t it a bit remote for you?”

He inclined his head. “Probably. I bet it gets cold in winter.”

“Not as cold as you might think, but it does get windy. There’s a storm on its way over the next few days. If you want to go out exploring, we should do it today.”

He smiled and held out a hand. “Or we could stay in, do a different sort of exploring.”

“We could.” I paused, still worried by his paleness. “How do you feel now? Are you still in pain?”

He quickly suppressed a flash of irritation across his face. “I’m fine, and I want to keep off the pills. Everything is healing nicely. I just need to keep myself mobile. I don’t want to get out of condition.”

“Surely a few days rest won’t hurt?”

“No, a few days are okay,” he conceded, “but it feels strange to not be working out in the gym and running. I do that most days.”

I squeezed his hand gently. “We’ll take Maddie to the beach later. I guarantee she’ll give you a workout.”

****

Mum and Dad were ready to leave, and I hugged them tight. I was both sorry to see them go and glad to have some privacy with Jon. Mum gave Jon a quick, gentle hug, which drew a surprised smile from him. Dad shook his hand with care. “I must say, you look familiar. Have we met before?”

Jon was polite. “I don’t think so. I just have one of those ordinary faces.”

But at last, they were on their way, and we had the house to ourselves.

We retired to the kitchen where I made fresh coffee and introduced Jon to the last two members of the family. Noah, the big black cat he’d seen earlier, and Thing, a sleek black and white cat. I wound my arms around Jon’s neck, and we kissed properly for the first time that day. “I thought Dad was going to recognize you, he loves to watch motor racing. Do you mind about that?” I gazed anxiously into his brilliant blue eyes, and he smiled back at me.

“I don’t mind at all. It’s one less worry for them, along with the fear of the leather-jacketed-hairy-biker.”

I groaned. “I can’t believe he said that.”

“I think the next step would have been thumb screws,” he teased. “Perhaps I got off lightly.”

A faint whine behind us reminded me Maddie was waiting for a walk.

“Come on, I’ll show you the beach, and then we can come back and chill out. It’s not far, maybe ten minutes each way, and not a steep path. Will you be okay to walk or should we take the car?”

He sighed. “Please, Anita, don’t fuss. My mother drives me mad, fussing over me. If I have a problem, which I won’t, I’ll tell you. Okay?”

I had to be satisfied with that, but made sure we strolled gently down the path to the beach.

Jon gazed round in delight. “It’s perfect. What’s it like for swimming?”

“At this time of year? Okay if you don’t mind frostbite.”

“No skinny dipping then?” He teased me again.

The wind was already getting up, and I could tell we were in for a rough few days. White horses in the distance—flecks of foam cresting the waves—usually heralded a storm. I pulled my jacket tighter and let Maddie off her lead. Barking in delight, she charged into the shallows and bounded back to me to splash me with water.

We spent the next hour on the beach throwing sticks for Maddie and skimming stones into the sea. Jon kept stopping to look at shells and pretty pebbles while I investigated the rock pools left by the outgoing tide. Maddie was soon soaked and sandy, but with no visible loss of energy. Jon however, looked paler by the minute. Rather than asking if he felt okay, I whistled Maddie back and pretended I was cold.

“Come here.” He wrapped his arms around me. “Is that better?”

“A bit, but a hot drink will speed up the thawing process. Come on.”

I was relieved to see his color coming back once we’d warmed up with mugs of cocoa. The wind rattled the roof, and the skies had turned an ominous gray so I was happy to stay in, and it was a good excuse for Jon to get some rest. I suggested he sit in the warm kitchen while I fed the animals, then we’d raid Mum’s freezer and decide what to have for dinner. He settled at the table and hunched over his laptop, pecking slowly at the keyboard.

“Can I help you with that?”

He glanced up. “I’m good, thanks. I’m just updating my blog. My fans and sponsors like to hear what’s going on with my career.”

“You’re not going to spend all week on that are you?”

He laughed and coaxed me to sit beside him. “Absolutely not. I’ve far better things to do with my time, but I have an obligation to my fans to keep them informed. I can only type slowly at the moment because my wrists are stiff, but give me half an hour and I’m all yours.”

I did just that, while I tidied up and moved my things into his bedroom. Looking over his shoulder, I saw him reading an online edition of the local Cumberley news.

“Won’t be long, I promise. I’m just catching up on everything.”

I snuggled next to him and watched idly as he flicked through news reports and emails.

His breath hitched and he stared at the screen, before closing the lid with a snap. He looked upset, and I stroked my knuckles down his cheek.

“What’s the matter?”

Jon looked away for a moment, then back at me. I saw the worry etched on his face, the tightness of his jawline. “It’s Pedro, my team-mate. He’s still in a coma. There’s no sign of improvement yet.”

There was nothing I could say. I could only hold him tight, and say my silent prayer of thanks that Jon was unhurt.