ALICE Ch 4

Six hours after Alice sits down with Erika, the qualifying round is over.

Bahrain Grand Prix starting positions:

P1: Verstappen (Red Bull)

P2: Norris (McLaren)

P3: Bottas (Aston Martin)

P4: Flores (Freedom)

P5: Alonso (Aston Martin)

P6: Hamilton (Mercedes)

P7: Sainz (Ferrari)

P8: Dunham (Freedom)

P9: Perez (Red Bull)

P10: Laakso (AlphaTauri)

P11: Pattinson (McLaren)

P12: Woodcock (Williams)

P13: Woodcock (Williams)

P14: Ocon (AlphaTauri)

P15: Tanaka (Mercedes)

P16: Ricciardo (Haas)

P17: Magnussen (Haas)

P18: Darcy (FUTA)

DNF: Wilde (FUTA)

DNF: Leclerc (Ferrari)

FF1

Bright lights shine on Glynda as she sits elegantly in the studio chair.

“It wasn’t the start that you wanted,” the interviewer says. “In Bahrain.”

Glynda blinks. Her smile is a little stiff. Seconds pass.

“No,” she says. “It wasn’t.”

“What happened?”

“You saw what happened. Alice put the car in the wall.”

FF1

“She is all right,” Dr. Schuler says to Glynda in her thick, German accent. The little brunette is FUTA Racing’s in-house physician.

A miserable Alice sits on the examination table in the infirmary. She has a few bruises and a stiff neck. The pain she’s in has nothing to do with those.

Glynda gives no outward sign of distress.

“Alice,” she says.

“Yeah?” Alice can’t make eye contact.

“Can you drive tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Rest.”

“Yeah.”

Glynda leaves without another word.

“You can get dressed. Take this,” Dr. Schuler says, unconcerned, handing a packet of pills to Alice. “Hydrate.”

“OK.”

“Don’t be bothered. Many drivers do this,” the doctor assures her. “And Faye set a terrible time. Not so much difference between P20 and P18.”

That is not what Alice needs to hear right now, and it’s news to her that Faye’s time was so bad. Glynda must be even madder than she seems.

Dr. Schuler seems great, but Alice is not in the mood. She doesn’t know what she wants, but she does not want to talk.

Leaving the infirmary, she comes face to face with Erika.

“Oh fuck,” Alice says, sagging visibly.

“I think I just saw your soul leave your body,” Erika replies mildly, shouldering her laptop bag. “Did you forget about me?”

“Yes. Yes, I did. Maybe I have brain damage.”

“It didn’t look bad.”

“What?”

“The crash. It didn’t look bad,” Erika says, slipping her arm around Alice’s waist. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

“Look, Ms. Bruhl, I don’t think I’m really in the right headspace for this right now. It hasn’t hit yet because I’m a moron, but I’m probably about to have a meltdown,” Alice says truthfully. She’s just wrecked a car on her very first qualifier.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel.”

“I think I should be alone.”

“Alice,” Erika says patiently. “What happened today is going to be a part of your story no matter what. Let’s face it. Besides, I think you need some cheering up. I can help.”

“I’m not allowed to drink before a race,” Alice says.

“That’s not what I mean. You need to process this so you can be ready to race tomorrow. And I need you to talk. Perfect.”

“I thought you were a reporter. You’re a therapist too?” Alice mutters, but she lets Erika guide her toward the exit.

“Is there someone else you’d rather talk to? Faye? Maybe someone from the team?”

“God, no.”

“Do you want to call home?”

“Oh, hell no.”

“OK. It’s settled.”