Bugatti was now heading toward the Pacific Coast Highway at full speed.
At the wheel, Billie, clearly under the impression she was the new Ayrton Senna, had adopted an aggressive driving technique, favouring sudden braking, rapid acceleration and abrupt turns at top speed.
âThis thing goes like a rocket!â she said happily, instead of answering my question.
Thrown back against the headrest, I felt as though I were on an aircraft about to take off. I watched her change gears with surprising dexterity. She was obviously having a field day.
âThe engineâs a little noisy, donât you think?â
â Noisy ? Are you kidding? Itâs like Mozart!â
She had obviously forgotten my question, so I repeated it, feeling annoyed.
âWhere are you taking me?â
âMexico.â
âHuh?â
âI packed a suitcase and a washbag for you.â
âWhat? I never agreed to this! Iâm not going anywhere.â
I demanded instead to be dropped off at a hospital so I could get my ankle looked at. I was not at all happy with the way things were going. But she ignored my request.
âStop the car!â I commanded, grabbing her arm.
âYouâre hurting me!â
âStop the damn car!â
She slammed on the brakes and swerved to the side of the highway. The tyres of the Bugatti screeched over the asphalt before coming to a halt in a cloud of dust.
*
âWhy on earth do you want to go to Mexico?â
We had both got out of the car and were arguing on the strip of grass that bordered the road.
âIâm taking you where youâre not brave enough to go on your own!â
âOh, of course! And where might that be then?â
I had to shout over the roar of the passing traffic, exacerbating the pain in my chest.
âWeâre going to find Aurore!â she yelled, just as a truck narrowly missed colliding with the Bugatti and sped past with its horn blaring.
I stared at her in a daze.
âI donât see what Aurore has to do with any of this.â
The air was thick with fumes. Beyond the wire fencing I could make out the runways and control towers of Los Angeles airport.
Billie opened the trunk of the car and took out a copy of People Magazine . There were several headlines splashed across the cover: Brangelinaâs potential break-up, yet another Pete Doherty scandal, the holiday snaps of the latest Formula1 champion and Rafael Barros with his new fiancée â Aurore Valancourt.
Just to torture myself, I opened the gossip magazine at the relevant page to find glamorous photos taken in some utopian beach resort. Surrounded by steep rock faces, white sand and turquoise water, Aurore radiated beauty and serenity in the arms of her Hispanic hero.
My vision blurred. Paralysed by shock, I tried to concentrate on the words in the article but I couldnât. Only the highlighted quotes managed to leave their painful imprint on my mind.Â
Aurore: We only met recently, but I know that Rafael is the one for me .
Rafael: Our joy will be complete when we have a child .
Disgusted, I sent the rag flying to the side of the highway, then, despite my current lack of a licence, climbed into the driverâs seat, slammed the door shut and turned the car round to head back into town.
âHey! You canât just leave me by the side of the road!â Billie shouted after me, waving her arms and positioning herself in front of the hood.
I let her get in, realising that I was not going to have a momentâs peace.
âI understand what youâre going through,â she said.
âThereâs no need to feel sorry for me; you have no idea what youâre talking about.â
As I drove, I tried to get my head straight. I needed time to think about the events of the morning, I needed toâ¦
âSo where are you taking us?â
âBack to my place.â
âBut thereâs no such thing as âyour placeâ any
At the wheel, Billie, clearly under the impression she was the new Ayrton Senna, had adopted an aggressive driving technique, favouring sudden braking, rapid acceleration and abrupt turns at top speed.
âThis thing goes like a rocket!â she said happily, instead of answering my question.
Thrown back against the headrest, I felt as though I were on an aircraft about to take off. I watched her change gears with surprising dexterity. She was obviously having a field day.
âThe engineâs a little noisy, donât you think?â
â Noisy ? Are you kidding? Itâs like Mozart!â
She had obviously forgotten my question, so I repeated it, feeling annoyed.
âWhere are you taking me?â
âMexico.â
âHuh?â
âI packed a suitcase and a washbag for you.â
âWhat? I never agreed to this! Iâm not going anywhere.â
I demanded instead to be dropped off at a hospital so I could get my ankle looked at. I was not at all happy with the way things were going. But she ignored my request.
âStop the car!â I commanded, grabbing her arm.
âYouâre hurting me!â
âStop the damn car!â
She slammed on the brakes and swerved to the side of the highway. The tyres of the Bugatti screeched over the asphalt before coming to a halt in a cloud of dust.
*
âWhy on earth do you want to go to Mexico?â
We had both got out of the car and were arguing on the strip of grass that bordered the road.
âIâm taking you where youâre not brave enough to go on your own!â
âOh, of course! And where might that be then?â
I had to shout over the roar of the passing traffic, exacerbating the pain in my chest.
âWeâre going to find Aurore!â she yelled, just as a truck narrowly missed colliding with the Bugatti and sped past with its horn blaring.
I stared at her in a daze.
âI donât see what Aurore has to do with any of this.â
The air was thick with fumes. Beyond the wire fencing I could make out the runways and control towers of Los Angeles airport.
Billie opened the trunk of the car and took out a copy of People Magazine . There were several headlines splashed across the cover: Brangelinaâs potential break-up, yet another Pete Doherty scandal, the holiday snaps of the latest Formula1 champion and Rafael Barros with his new fiancée â Aurore Valancourt.
Just to torture myself, I opened the gossip magazine at the relevant page to find glamorous photos taken in some utopian beach resort. Surrounded by steep rock faces, white sand and turquoise water, Aurore radiated beauty and serenity in the arms of her Hispanic hero.
My vision blurred. Paralysed by shock, I tried to concentrate on the words in the article but I couldnât. Only the highlighted quotes managed to leave their painful imprint on my mind.Â
Aurore: We only met recently, but I know that Rafael is the one for me .
Rafael: Our joy will be complete when we have a child .
Disgusted, I sent the rag flying to the side of the highway, then, despite my current lack of a licence, climbed into the driverâs seat, slammed the door shut and turned the car round to head back into town.
âHey! You canât just leave me by the side of the road!â Billie shouted after me, waving her arms and positioning herself in front of the hood.
I let her get in, realising that I was not going to have a momentâs peace.
âI understand what youâre going through,â she said.
âThereâs no need to feel sorry for me; you have no idea what youâre talking about.â
As I drove, I tried to get my head straight. I needed time to think about the events of the morning, I needed toâ¦
âSo where are you taking us?â
âBack to my place.â
âBut thereâs no such thing as âyour placeâ any
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