‘I’m not a dancer.’
‘And I’m not interested in excuses. I want to dance.’
I couldn’t refuse. She led me out onto the dance floor. I looked over at my table. Everyone looked happy to see us, except for Alison’s dad. I didn’t blame him. I knew how it looked.
The song changed to something much slower. Alison moved in closer. There was no way of not holding her.
‘You need to relax.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry. Relax.’
I tried, but I felt the gaze of everyone watching us. She caught me looking around.
‘Don’t worry about them.’
‘I don’t want anyone to take this the wrong way.’
‘Yes, people dancing. I’ve known it to start riots.’
I smiled.
‘See. You are human.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You say sorry again and I’ll make you do this all night.’
I felt her smile penetrate me and I said, ‘OK.’
‘You can’t worry about what others are thinking. Everyone has been kind and that’s wonderful, but I don’t need to be handled like fine china. Remember, no cotton wool.’
Her words took the steel rods out of my back.
‘See, you can dance. You liar.’
‘OK, I’m a spaz. Can we leave it at that?’
‘OK.’
We danced for a minute before we both spotted Derek watching us from the centre of his group, which included Hancock. He studied us with a predator’s gaze.
‘I liked what you said up there,’ I said.
‘Do you think he got the message?’
‘He got it. Whether he felt anything is a different matter.’
‘I can’t wait to see that bastard pay.’
‘It won’t be long.’
‘I want him to beg me for forgiveness. I’ll never give it, not to the person who killed Alex.’
‘Derek’s days as a free man are numbered.’
She came close to stopping me. ‘How sure of that are you?’
‘Very. His secrets can’t be kept much longer.’
The song came to an end.
Alison waved at someone behind me. ‘You wanted to talk to Alex’s mechanic, didn’t you? He’s here.’
Jo-Jo stood in the doorway. Alison walked me over to him and hugged him. ‘You’re late.’
‘I couldn’t get away.’
‘Aidy wanted to ask you something, is that OK?’
Jo-Jo shrugged.
‘Can we talk outside?’
Jo-Jo shrugged again and I followed him out into the hallway before ushering him into the hotel’s lobby bar. I bought him a drink and sat him in a quiet corner of the bar.
‘I wanted to ask you about Alex and Vic Hancock.’
‘What about them?’
‘Their relationship. How did they get on?’
Jo-Jo fixed me with a suspicious stare. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Hancock is sponsoring me for the Festival and he’s interested in sponsoring me next season. I just wondered if there was anything I should know.’
‘Bollocks. Don’t lie to me. I’m not stupid. I know what Derek said that night and I know what you’ve been up to. If you have a question, ask it, but don’t bullshit me.’
This made things easier. ‘OK. Hancock wanted to know if Alex had told me anything about him and his business. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about it, but he kept pressing me.’
‘Hancock has been sponsoring Alex since he raced karts. Money was never a problem, until about eighteen months ago. Then checks bounced. The money always arrived eventually, but Alex was acting as Vic’s credit line in the meantime.’
This wasn’t the Hancock I knew. Money had been flowing thick and fast since he came to me. Then again, I knew where he was obtaining his secondary income. ‘He doesn’t seem to have money problems now. He’s been splashing the cash around me.’
‘Maybe so, but I know for a fact he struggled paying Alex when he was supposed to.’
‘Did Alex know why Hancock was having problems?’
‘Maybe, but I didn’t know.’
‘He never looked into his businesses dealings or financial accounts?’
‘No. What makes you say that?’
‘I know Alex was an accountant. I thought he might have checked Hancock out.’
‘I don’t know.’
I was going to leave the questioning at that but I remembered something. ‘I’ve got Alex’s car and I’ve been looking it over.’
Jo-Jo shifted awkwardly in his seat. ‘Yeah?’
‘I noticed something. The bolts on the rear suspension were bolt head down.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘Nothing. I just noticed the bolts were mounted the wrong way.’
‘Are you saying I screwed up? That I caused Alex’s crash?’
‘No. I just thought it was strange.’
I spotted Morgan wandering about in the lobby. He hadn’t seen me, but he would. My time was up.
‘Thanks, Jo-Jo,’ I said, rising. ‘I really appreciate the talk. Let’s get back to the party before we miss all the fun.’
Jo-Jo grabbed my arm. ‘Do you know something?’
‘Maybe. I don’t know. We need to get back.’
Morgan trailed us back to the ballroom. Jo-Jo kept pushing me for answers, but I didn’t give him any. I thought it was going to be a problem with Morgan nearby, but Mr Fanning saved me by pulling Jo-Jo to one side for a chat.
It was a relief to sit down with Steve and Dylan. They failed to look as happy as I did.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Derek,’ Steve said.
Derek still held court over in his corner of the room. Graham and the Hansens were with him. The thirty or so people far outnumbered the three of us at our table.
‘Do you think Graham or the Hansens talked?’ Dylan asked.
‘I think someone did,’ Steve said.
Derek was laughing and joking, but his gaze was locked on me. He knew. The rumour had gotten to him. Now I would see how he would react.
Lap Twenty-Two
The next morning, it was business as usual for a Saturday. Steve and I worked on the new car and finished checking the set-up. It might seem like overkill but every time the car comes off the track, it needs to have its toe-ins, camber and ride heights checked. Clip a curb and it’s more than likely that the alignment has been knocked out a fraction. There’s also some general maintenance stuff to make sure nothing’s leaking, bent or broken. The car was in good shape and ready for its next outing.
I tried booking another test at Brands Hatch for the coming Wednesday, but they were fully booked. It wasn’t surprising. Qualifying for the Festival began on Friday. All the foreign teams would be in town by Wednesday and fighting for track time. I should have booked earlier but all my sneaking around had gotten in the way. All I could do was test elsewhere. It wasn’t a great alternative, but better than nothing.
I called around the circuits and didn’t have any luck. Except for the Festival, the racing season was over in the UK. The tracks were mothballing operations until the spring. Even Stowe Park had closed its doors for the winter. My only option was Knockhill in Scotland, but that was too far to be practical with the time available.
‘Have you called the Hansens?’ Steve asked when I explained the situation.
‘No. Why?’
‘If they’ve got a track day on, ask them if they’d let you have a run between their student classes.’
After the little ambush they’d sprung on me last time, I wasn’t so keen, but I didn’t have much in the way of options. I got Tony Hansen on his mobile. He had his last track day of the year on Wednesday. As a favour, he could give me twenty laps. And Tony being Tony, that favour came at the price of two hundred pounds. I wasn’t in a position to argue and accepted his generous offer, in spite of the fact that he was probably on the phone to Derek now telling him when and where to find me. I’d have to be extra careful.