Jump Start

4. Four

Four

Thomas

“ H i guys, how are you? Great to see you!” I said to the local news team who were doing a short interview on me about the start of the season. I felt Harper’s death stare burning into the side of my face. I was right to think she wouldn’t make it easy for me. I liked having her sitting in my office, but I wouldn’t let her know that…yet.

Talking through the same questions was beginning to feel like a state of dissociation for me.

“We focus on the three main factors when endurance racing—tyre life, fuel intake, and driver fatigue.” Blah, blah, same old shit. I just wanted to get out of this stuffy outfit, put on my race suit, and drive. Was it possible to clone yourself yet? I wished my brother was my identical twin, so he could pretend to be me for all this media stuff. And I could relax.

“Thank you for your time, Thomas. We’ll chat again soon.”

I ended the meeting to find Harper looking at me before she swiftly turned her gaze to her phone.

“Coffee?” I asked in her direction.

“Sorry, what?” she replied. I knew full well she heard me.

“Do you, Harper, want a coffee?”

She shook her head. “No thanks. Too late in the day. I’ll be up all night. ”

I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t need your life story, a simple no would be fine,” I retorted as I strode out of the room.

As I made my coffee, I noticed a certain pace about how I was doing it. The milk was taking too long to froth. The beans weren’t crunching fast enough. I was eager to get back to my office, to be within metres of Harper again. This was…unusual.

Some days, I wouldn’t even use my office. It would become a dumping ground for gear and people’s luggage if they were on their way to the airport. Chris made me clean it out before Harper arrived to appear ‘professional’. Sometimes I felt like he was more of a father than my own.

My parents were getting ready for the Magic Millions, a ‘million dollar’ racehorse auction event on the sunny Gold Coast in Queensland. They did it every year. And every year, they made tonnes of money on the Jackson Racing Stud horses (our family racehorse stud). I was happy for them, but it meant they were virtually uncontactable the whole time.

I walked towards my office again, only to hear the most beautiful sound I’d heard in a long time—Harper’s laugh. It was light, airy, and sublime. It made me smile—not that I would ever let her know that. I soured my face just in time to reach the door frame. I noticed her smile drop as soon as she saw me.

“Oh, okay, well I better go. Okay, talk to you later, Brendo!” And she hung up the phone. I wondered who Brendo was. Maybe a boyfriend? Or friend? But more importantly, why did I care?

Wordlessly, I sat down and went about my work, wishing I could think of something to say to her. I wanted to start a conversation, to know more about her, but I decided to stay quiet .

Harper

The Echidna Racing office had a vibrant feel to it; morale was high, which was impressive considering how often everyone was away from home throughout the year. I was able to make countless notes on the detailed meetings that Thomas had with his teammates and engineers. I was very much enjoying my time at the racing garage.

Thomas and I were sharing his office; however, we were not making any progress towards becoming friends at the very least. I wanted to get to know him more so I could write the piece on him as genuinely as possible, but he wouldn’t let me in. I knew I was a stranger to him, but I was trying my best to be professional and friendly. It didn’t seem to make a difference in his mind.

I was a journalist— the enemy —and nothing I could do would change his mind.

I walked past Chris’s office on my way home and heard him call my name.

I backtracked and stopped at his door. Thomas was sitting opposite him on a chair.

“Hi, guys!” I greeted them cheerfully.

“Harper, sorry for calling out to you. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay, but don’t want to keep you,” Chris mentioned casually as I started to walk through the door.

“That’s no problem. Thank you for asking. I’m doing great—the team is very friendly and helpful and the facilities here are world-class! Great coffee.”

Chris laughed in response. “Yes, well, everyone has to stay well caffeinated here, that’s for sure!” Thomas was, of course, silent throughout the whole interaction. I decided to stir the pot.

“It would be great if, for the sake of the article, Thomas here could learn a few things about being polite. Anyway, see you guys tomorrow.” Mic drop . I was out of there.

I left Thomas with his mouth agape for the second time this week, and the smile on Chris’s face dropped immediately. Thomas’s behaviour was unnecessary. I wasn’t surprised at the state of public opinion on him. Chris did ask me to tell him if Thomas was being difficult, though. I hated to be a snitch, but trying to research for my article was like trying to get blood from a stone.

***

The day I was fearing the most had arrived—testing day. As I got ready that morning, I put together the most practical outfit I could think of—black leggings, a T-shirt, and a puffer jacket with sneakers. If Thomas was a jerk, I could stomp all over the motorsport precinct as much as I wanted.

Since I had attempted to set a boundary with Thomas, he was being a little less of an asshole and more human.

I arrived at Echidna headquarters early, as requested, and stepped straight into Chris’s luxury SUV, which would take us to the motorsport precinct. Joining me in the car was Holly, the social media manager, and Will.

The chatter in the car was mostly shop talk, to which I had little to add, but I enjoyed it when Will spoke about his recent trip to Greece with his family. Will was more what had I pictured Thomas to be like—friendly, open to conversation, and polite, not closed off, rude, and impatient.

We arrived at the motorsport precinct to find the two race cars, each parked in a lane with their respective engineers alongside them. Thomas was standing next to his car dressed in full racing gear, his helmet on the roof.

I walked over to him. “Good morning, Thomas,” I said, sounding a little too formal than necessary.

“I see you’re finally wearing something practical,” he replied, looking me up and down. Ignoring his comment and the blush on my face, I turned on my heel and walked away to stand with the engineers in a small gazebo tent off to the side.

“So, what is the aim for today, guys?” I asked, getting out my recorder for their response. “We are allotted a certain amount of test days per Championship where we pretty much let the boys run a amok on track and iron out any issues that may arise. We look at car performance, driver performance, and any track conditions that may affect the car,” Tony, Thomas’s engineer, explained.

I looked out at the track as Thomas’s car roared to life. Tony handed me a headset to listen to the radio communication while Thomas was driving.

“Okay, Jacko, start off slow. Let’s just do a gentle practice lap. Don’t give it much speed.”

“Copy.” Thomas’s voice was loud and clear in my ear. I suppressed the slight tingle of my skin at the closeness of his voice.

After a practice lap, Thomas was instructed to use the course to the best of his ability. From a complete stop, the car screeched, twisted, turned, and roared around the track. He used every bit of road possible and came to an abrupt halt not far from where we were standing.

“Front left steering is heavy,” his voice instructed the crew.

The mechanics rushed out to assess the situation with a small jack and a handful of tools, and after a few minutes of working on the car, the jack was released, and Thomas was on his way again. I made a few notes on my phone about the impressive speed at which the team worked.

I realised, despite being a girl who knew nothing about racing, I was enjoying the day. The cool breeze off the open plains, the warm sun on my face mixed with the screeching loud noises of the race cars that filled me with adrenaline. After Thomas’s turn was up, he climbed out of the car and came to stand next to me, sipping on water through a straw in his helmet.

“Chris wants me to take you for a hot lap,” he mentioned casually as he moved in closer to me.

I raised my eyebrow at him. “What, really? That would be so cool!” My interest was sparked.

“Alright, come with me.” He nodded and led me over to the garage where I was handed a fireproof race suit and helmet to put on. The engineers ran through a quick briefing with me and before I knew it, I was being led over to Thomas’s car. Tony opened the door for me.

“Now, if he does anything that scares you, please speak up and we can stop straight away. We will be on the radio the whole time.”

I nodded, feeling an odd mix of excitement and nerves.

“Okay, Harper, be careful on your way in. These cars aren’t made for passengers so it’s not going to be overly comfortable,” Tony explained as he buckled me into the seatbelt. He shut the door and then all of a sudden, I was in very close proximity to Thomas.

“Are you all good?” he asked, looking in my direction. The visor of his race helmet was still up.

“I think so.” My reply was unsteady. Without warning, he reached over and pulled the harness tighter on my body, his hands ever so slightly stalling on my thigh. Hastily closing the helmet, he put both hands on the steering wheel and signalled to his engineer to start the car.

“Hang on tight, and try not to scream into the radio,” his deadpan voice ordered through the helmet. I couldn’t help but smile inside my helmet. My dad and brothers would be so jealous.

“Okay, Thomas, when you’re ready.” Tony’s voice was loud and clear across the radio.

Once again, Thomas’s car roared to life and even with the helmet on, it was deafening. Without warning, we were off, and I was immediately pushed back into the seat. An involuntary scream came out of my mouth.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked as he shifted the gears, setting up for the first corner.

“Nothing! A warning would have been nice,” I managed to say over the comms, hearing a slight chuckle from Tony.

I was thankful this was only a one-lap experience. I did, however, feel a sense of ease with Thomas driving, even though I had no idea how he could see what he was doing with the countryside flying by in a blur of grass, concrete, and sky. I watched as his hands swiftly and efficiently switched from the steering wheel to the stick, his feet feathering the accelerator and brake, concentration unbreakable.

Before I knew it, we were slowing down to enter the garage, and Thomas switched off the car. Leaving us sitting in silence once again. Thomas lifted his visor and turned to face me. “How was that?” he asked in anticipation.

I couldn’t lie. I felt exhilarated. “That was unbelievable! Thank you so much!” I gushed, lifting my visor to look at him better.

“Glad you enjoyed yourself,” he replied as I unfastened my seatbelt.

Thomas jumped out of the car like it was nothing and appeared at my side to help me out, hands extended towards me.

“Come on then,” his voice was almost playful.

I couldn’t help but smile inside my helmet as I reached out to put my hand in his, leaning all of my weight on him as I got out. Holly appeared in front of us.

“Photo for the gram! Thomas, put your arm around Harps, will you?”

I lifted the helmet off my head and tried to calm down the mess I was certain my hair was in.

Thomas put his arm around my shoulder, his hand splayed on my shoulder blade. The feeling of his warm hands on my body felt comforting, and I felt my face blush. I ignored the flutter in my stomach as he touched me for the second time in as many seconds.

“Go on, Thomas, get in closer,” Holly ordered.

I laughed in her direction. I knew what she was doing. To be honest, I didn’t mind it. For good measure, I let my hip lean on Thomas’s thigh. He appeared even taller than usual in his race suit and helmet.

“Thomas, take the bloody helmet off for the photo!” Chris yelled from across the room. Thomas obliged and rested it against his other hip. I loved how the team seemed to keep his pigheadedness in check. I would need to learn how to do that, at least for the rest of my week at Echidna Racing.

***

After another few hours of laps and further testing, it was time to head back to the Echidna headquarters. I was gathering my belongings when Chris came over to me.

“Harper, hope you enjoyed your hot lap. Can take a bit getting used to,” he explained while adjusting his headset off an ear to hear me better.

“Thank you so much for that. It was very exciting!”

He nodded with a smile. “Look, I’m going to be held up here for a while, so I can’t give you a lift back, and the other guys have left. Would you like to stay a while?” he asked, looking around the garage.

“She can come with me,” Thomas replied, appearing out of nowhere.

“Great! Thanks, Jacko. See you tomorrow, Harper!” He returned to the engineering booth to review the results of the day. I wondered how much later he would be here. His job seemingly never ended.

The thought of being stuck in Sydney traffic alone with Thomas made me feel both nervous and curious. I wanted to pick his brain but felt awkward about prying into his personal life. I waited on a sponsor-branded stool for Thomas to return from getting changed, mindlessly scrolling through my phone when he appeared in front of me. I smiled up at him and jumped off the stool. Thomas motioned for me to follow him to his car, which was a very large dual-cab four-wheel drive ute. I had to use the side step to get in.

I sat in silence, not knowing where to direct my gaze, and waited for him to put his bags on the back seat. The door shut with a loud bang, making me jump a little. I was definitely nervous.

“Right, let’s go,” he said, starting the car. His Bluetooth connected and started to play heavy metal at the absolute maximum volume. I giggled and looked over at him while he casually turned the music to a quieter volume.

“Let me guess, you don’t like metal.” His comment cut the awkward tension.

“Can’t say that I do.” Without looking, I knew he would be rolling his eyes.

We turned out of the motorsport precinct, with Thomas’s music doing nothing to help my anxiety. I went to speak but couldn’t think of a single thing to say to this man. Sensing the quietness in the car, he spoke first. “So, have fun today then.”

Somehow, he was able to make all of his questions sound like statements.

I nodded. “Yeah, it was great. I’ve got plenty of bits for my piece. Thank you for that hot lap.”

“You can cut the crap,” he said with an accusing tone. I looked over at him, confused.

“Excuse me?”

His head dipped below the sun visor as he indicated to merge onto the motorway.

“This isn’t an interview. You can turn it off, Harper,” he said, coldly, using my name as a threat. I took a moment before I spoke, not wanting to sound shrill.

“What is your problem with me, Thomas? Is it the fact that I’m a journalist? You’ve made it clear that you can’t stand the profession.”

The song ended and he hit pause on the music.

“I just want you to talk normally. I’d like to meet the real Harper, not the Channel 6 newsreader persona.”

My blood boiled. I crossed my arms and looked directly out the front windscreen. In my head, I calculated exactly how many hours I would have left with this man. I thought maybe we’d turned a corner over the last few days, but I was wrong. Suddenly, I felt a well of emotion bubble up inside me, so I turned my focus to the passenger window. I’d never met someone with such a visceral reaction to both me and my profession, which was something I took a lot of pride in. Journalism had been my dream for as long as I could remember.

“You know, I don’t criticise your choice of profession. I would think you could show me some respect.” My voice cracked and a tear breached the banks of my eye. I quickly wiped it away, but I was too late.

Suddenly, the car slowed down and pulled into a stop zone on the side of the road. Thomas turned the car off and took his seatbelt off to turn in my direction. I faced away from him, looking out the window and the now stationary trees.

“Harper,” his voice softened. “Please, look at me.”

I finally swivelled my head in his direction, hoping my mascara wasn’t betraying me and running down my face. He reached his hand out to touch my face but stopped himself.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been an asshole. I never meant to upset you.” His apology was sincere, but his reasoning was still piggish.

“Then why even do it in the first place?” I was still mad.

He took a moment and hung his head for a second.

“It’s my problem, not yours. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll cut it out, I promise.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed a couple of times before placing both hands on the steering wheel and starting the car.

As we slowly merged back onto the highway, I noticed his knuckles were white. He was gripping the steering wheel with full force.

The rest of the drive back to headquarters was fairly silent. I felt exhausted from the day and the weight of the thoughts in my mind. I couldn’t wait to get out of the car and go home. As soon as we arrived back at headquarters, I jumped out of his truck, muttering a quick “Thanks” in Thomas’s direction.

I longed for the safety of my own car. As I drove home in silence, I cursed myself for showing emotion in front of Thomas. I wasn’t in the habit of outwardly showing emotion in such an uncontrolled way, but he had a knack for bringing it out of me.