ALICE Ch 222

The rustic, alpine vibes in this restaurant are not helpful at all for putting anyone at ease. People involved with F1 are stressed out no matter what, even people with lower-stakes jobs like Kylie, who sits at a brushed-wood table with Lora, gobbling bread and guzzling dark beer.

“I couldn’t believe it,” she says, wiping her mouth. She’s bouncing with nervous energy. It’s lunchtime. She’s had several beers. Each time she speaks, lowering her voice conspiratorially, she rocks forward toward Lora as though sharing some terrible secret. In fairness, she sort of is. Lora hasn’t touched her food. “All of them. No hesitation. Like this.” Kylie picks up a loaf from the basket and waves it. “Like this. I’m not exaggerating. They’re like this.” She puts it in Lora’s face and Lora pulls away, bright red, her smile rather fixed.

“I take your meaning,” she says politely, reaching for her water glass.

“But they wouldn’t do it. Like, they liked me. Like, so much.” Kylie gestures at herself, then fans her face with her hand, looking around as though someone might be listening. “Like, m’whole body covered in how much they liked me. But they wouldn’t do it.”

“Now I don’t understand.” Lora irritably keeps fiddling with her hair; there’s a couple at a nearby table, and they keep looking. She hopes it’s because of Kylie’s bizarre behavior and not her burns. She can forget about these blemishes around FUTA people, who are used to them. Being out in public is different.

“They wouldn’t, er…” Kylie makes a hole with her fingers and jabs her index finger through it several times. “Can’t wrap my head round it. They wouldn’t do it. And I couldn’t say it. Dunno if they even speak English. Couldn’t do this in their faces.” She does the finger thing again. “Like, what is their problem? Put it in. Just do it. Fuck.” Kylie stuffs another roll in her mouth. “Literally.”

Lora opens her mouth to speak but Kylie cuts her off.

“Unsatisfying! Had to take care of myself,” she says, gesturing vaguely downward. She rolls her eyes. “I’d do it again though. God, I want to.”

Lora clears her throat. “I’m glad you had a good time.” She’s been deliberately avoiding this meeting because she suspected that Kylie would do just this: tell her everything. Now Lora’s mind is flooded with imagery.

Oblivious to Lora’s discomfort, Kylie goes on.

“I’m helping,” she says with her mouth full. “Performing an important service for the team. I should have a raise.”

“Why not?” Lora asks, frowning and looking past her.

“You seem off.” Kylie sees Lora staring into space. “Maybe you should have a go. Might do you good.”

Lora doesn’t hear that.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” she murmurs. “No. Dear God, no.”

“What?” Kylie wipes her mouth again and turns to look.

Yes, Christian Horner’s over there at the other end of the restaurant—even Kylie knows who he is. But Lora’s looking at someone else: the tall figure that’s just come in.

Eyes wide, they watch as Alice Wilde sits down with Christian Horner.

“Oh dear,” Kylie says.