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1. ​​ One

One

Harper

“ H arper, where are we with the Donaldson story?” my editor in chief asked as he pointed his disinterested gaze at me.

I straightened up in my chair and cleared my throat to answer. “Yes, coming along. Just putting the finishing touches on it. Will be ready for checking before the deadline, sir.”

Harry Wentworth was my editor in chief, my boss, for all intents and purposes, an accomplished investigative journalist who was only a few years away from retiring. At this point, he wasn’t even trying to hide his apathy.

“Great, thanks, Harper. Meredith, where are we with lifestyle?” His question was directed at my colleague and work friend beside me.

I worked as a journalist at the prominent online Australian newspaper, The Sydney Daily . The Daily was not without its issues, but overall, it was my dream job.

As far back as I could remember, I had always wanted to write and be a journalist. I used to read news headlines to all my stuffed teddy bears, who would sit neatly in front of me in a straight line.

I focused back on Harry. “This quarter, I would like us all to try to cover something a little different than our usual humdrum. I’ve got a one-on-one interview—a week in the life piece I’d like someone to do with Thomas Henry-Jackson. Any takers?”

The room buzzed. I noticed chatter between the men in particular.

“Who’s that?” I asked Meredith, who raised her shoulders and eyebrows at me. At least I wasn’t the only one with no idea.

“Harper, seriously. He’s one of the newest rising stars of the Australian GT Racing Championships,” one of my male colleagues directed at me. He also sported a shocked expression at my inept knowledge.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, great. I don’t follow any car racing,” I aimed back at them.

“Perfect, which is why you should do this story. Thanks for volunteering, Harper!” Harry clapped in my direction.

My eyes went wide, and I shook my head. “What? No, sir, I would rather cover the Australian netball team or something other than racing.”

Harry laughed. “Thomas is yours. Come see me later for more details.” And then he moved on to the next order of business.

I sat back in my chair, bewildered. I was always looking for a challenging piece to write, however, this was something else entirely.

Meredith placed her hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me.

“It’s fine. I love a challenge!” My voice came out an octave higher than usual, not quite believable, even to myself.

The rest of the meeting went by without any more surprise assignments. Just as I stood up to leave, Harry approached me at the door. “Harper, would you mind staying back a moment?”

I smiled politely. “Of course!”

Harry motioned for me to have a seat.

I blindly walked backwards until I found a chair at the table. Harry took a moment to gather his belongings and sat opposite me, an expectant smile on his face.

“Harper, thank you for staying.” I opened my notepad and scribbled the date in the top left-hand corner.

“No worries, sir,” I replied casually, even though I felt anything but casual on the inside.

“I do apologise if assigning you this piece seemed a little forward, but I think this will be a good opportunity for you to get out of your comfort zone of political and finance pieces. Do something new.”

I nodded. I knew he was right. “It was forward, sir, but I do agree that it will be a great opportunity for me, so thank you.”

He nodded and typed something into his laptop. “I’ve only got a few minutes, so I will email you the assignment in more detail, but basically, we want you to follow Thomas around for a week. This includes documenting the ins and outs of a race car driver’s life, as well as conducting an interview that will be featured on our homepage, just in time for the next racing meet in under a month. You will have access to the racing team, the garage, engineers, and whatever else you need.”

I nodded along. This was a lot of information to process, but a small part of me felt excited to be experiencing something so new and unique to me. “Okay. Yes, please send me that email when you can, and I will get to work on my research.”

Harry nodded. “You are the right person for this. I’ve got a video call with the CEO now, so I’ll touch base with you later. Thanks, Harper,” he said as he placed his headphones on, effectively ending the meeting.

I walked out of the conference room with a slight spring in my step. I was looking forward to telling my family about this. My father and brothers were particularly interested in motorsport. I smiled whenever I thought about my family. I always looked forward to the weekend, when we would Facetime on a Sunday night to catch up on the past week.

For the rest of the day, I was able to get some solid work done on the pieces that I was finishing up for the week’s release. I felt satisfied with how my week had ended.

Since it was a Friday night, there was talk of some after-work drinks. I wasn’t particularly keen on drinking with work colleagues, as I found it turned them into either blubbering messes or ridiculous, uninhibited lunatics. But that was just my opinion.

“Harper, come with us!” Meredith excitedly gestured in my direction.

I shook my head at her. “Can’t. Lots of research to do on this new story I have to write.”

“Oh my god, it’s the weekend! Work can wait!”

I declined her offer, and, by the third time, I was starting to feel frustrated. Luckily, the email from Harry came through with the assignment details. Starting Monday, I was booked in to visit the Echidna Racing garage and meet their most prominent rising star. Usually, there would be more time to prepare and research for a new piece, but due to the racing team’s fast-paced schedule, it was essentially now or never.

Arriving home to my apartment with a bottle of wine and takeout dinner, I sat at my small dining room table and ate straight out of the plastic containers. I was civilised enough to at least pour my wine into a glass, though. I was proud of my little one-bedroom apartment. It was a miracle I was even able to get one so close to work. Granted, a lot of my pay went to rent, but I was happy there. It was my own little slice of writer’s heaven.

As I unpacked my laptop, I decided to do some light stalking on the person I was going to be spending a week with. I typed ‘Thomas Henry-Jackson’ into the search engine, and hundreds of articles appeared about the young race car driver. I clicked on the top one, which featured a photo of him holding a baby lamb. Is this guy for real?

Tall, sandy blond hair, brown eyes, and a few freckles around the top of his cheeks. He was certainly attractive.

The article explained how he grew up on his family’s horse stud and would race around on dirt bikes with his brother. His family helped him get into go-karting at a young age, and the rest was history. Starting at the entry-level competitions and dominating throughout, he soon reached a point in his career where he was able to progress to the professional leagues. This was all very impressive, but as a journalist, I had spent time with financial leaders, politicians, and celebrities, so this would be a walk in the park.

I took another sip of wine, typed his name into YouTube and clicked on the most watched clip, which, in hindsight, did not paint him in the most positive light. A decision was made mid-race that benefited his teammate over him and in the video, he was very loudly having words with his engineering team. This resulted in a dramatic exit from the garage. I read through the comments: ‘Ungrateful’, ‘Selfish prick, can’t stand him’, ‘Needs a reality check!’ His attitude had certainly divided the comment section. I would hope that this behaviour was reserved for trackside only, but I guess we would see.

***

My weekend consisted of seeing some friends for dinner, a lot of reading, and some work, which was standard for me. I also put a few hours into profiling Thomas Henry-Jackson, as I wanted to get a feel for him and his achievements before I started to write a piece on him. This was something I would do for any news article. Researching GT racing was certainly an interesting experience, though. I especially loved the luxurious cars and their bright and colourful liveries.

Sunday night was one of my favourite times of the week. I knew a lot of people hated Sundays, but I loved my job, and I always looked forward to heading in on a Monday morning. I laid out my outfit for my first day at Echidna Racing—a grey, tailored suit with black stilettos. I wanted to make an impression since this was one of Australia’s most impressive new GT racing teams.

After dinner, I patiently waited for my family to call. Our Sunday night tradition. I answered at the first ring, and I saw my father and two brothers on the other end of the video call.

“Yo, Harps!” Andy said first.

“What’s going on, sis?” Brendan was second.

My father was last. “Evening, darling! How are you?” I tried to look around my father.

“Hey everyone, where’s Mum? ”

Dad smiled. “Oh, she’s out having margs with the girls. I’m sure I’ll get a call to pick her up in a few hours.”

My father was my favourite person in the world. A retired Army Sergeant and the most patient and kind husband to my mum, who was a little wild. My parents, Ian and Harriet Allenwright, had been married for over thirty-five years. They’d recently retired and were living it up by the beach in Nelson Bay in New South Wales.

My two brothers, Andrew and Brendan, were both older than me and were serving in the Navy. They were both living on the other side of the country in Perth.

“Mum’s living the life if it’s Sunday Marg time!” Andy interjected.

“What’s happening, Harps?” Brendan added.

“Well, I have a new assignment starting tomorrow. I’m going to Echidna Racing to spend a week with Thomas Henry-Jackson.”

This earned audible gasps from everyone on the phone.

“That is very impressive, darling. He’s one of the most promising GT racers at the moment,” Dad added, while the boys were talking about how hot his ex-girlfriend was.

I shook my head, noticing the deterioration in conversation. “Alright you lot, I’m going. I like it better when Mum’s here to keep the conversation classy. See ya!”

We said our goodbyes and I hung up, smiling to myself. I loved my family, but having older brothers was both a blessing and a curse.