Read Games Lovers Play Online

Authors: June Tate

Games Lovers Play (8 page)

Kay walked to the door. ‘We have nothing more to say to each other, John. You'll hear from my solicitor. Now I'd like you to leave.'

John Baker picked up the two suitcases and walked to the front door, where he hesitated and turned to his wife to speak.

She opened the door. ‘Goodbye John.'

He walked out of the house, put the cases in the car and drove away.

Seven

During the weeks that followed, Connie only saw John briefly as he went about his work. He neglected to visit the haberdashery department, but instead sent one of his undermanagers over whenever necessary. Which worked well for both of them.

Betty was delighted when Connie told her she'd stopped seeing the floor manager, although she didn't tell her why. Betty didn't ask but was just grateful that her friend had seen sense at last. Had she known that Connie was planning to spend the night with Sam after the Silverstone race, she might have thought differently.

Sam and his mates were working on the new car most of the time, and Connie, who now knew about the move, spent a lot of her weekends at the other garage and had become part of the team, making tea and trying to be useful. Occasionally, she and Sam managed a trip to the cinema, or to go out for a drink after work. Their relationship grew, and she was known as Sam's girl by all his friends.

One Sunday they took the car out and road-tested it on a disused airfield, moving the vehicle on the back of a truck especially built for the job. The field was deserted and the wind blew across the neglected runway, which had weeds growing through the tarmac. The atmosphere was tense as Sam climbed into the driving seat and strapped himself in. Connie stood with Tom and Harry as they prepared to time the run.

Connie held her breath as Sam moved the car into position, revved the engine, signalled that he was ready … then took off.

It moved like a streak of lightening, and the excitement of the two men beside her was palpable. When eventually Sam had finished his run, Tom pressed the button on the stopwatch he was holding and read it.

‘Bloody hell!' he exclaimed. ‘That's fucking amazing! Oops, sorry Connie!'

She just laughed because although she wasn't knowledgeable even she could see that this was a fast time.

Sam drove over towards them. Tom said nothing; he just showed Sam the watch. The two men grinned broadly at each other.

‘We've bloody done it!' Tom yelled and picked Connie up and swung her round. Then, putting her down, he clasped Harry in his arms and the two men danced around in glee.

Climbing out of the car, Sam kissed Connie and shook hands with his friends. ‘Gentlemen, I think we have a winner!'

‘Silverstone is in the bag!' said Harry enthusiastically.

But Sam tried to calm him down. ‘Nothing is ever in the bag, you know that. If for one moment we become overconfident, we could lose the race.'

But Tom and Harry were too excited to listen. ‘I would love to see Jake Barton's face when he realizes what speed we have achieved with this engine,' Tom said with a wide grin.

‘We have to find out what vehicle he's entering before we can celebrate,' Sam warned. ‘He, too, may have achieved as much.'

Harry gave a derisory laugh. ‘Barton? He hasn't got the brains!'

Sam agreed. ‘He hasn't, but don't forget he has two good mechanics working with him and they are no slouches.'

Connie listened to the exchange of words between the men. It was very evident that something special was happening, but she felt her stomach tighten at the mention of the other driver. He obviously was bad news, and it worried her. She now knew just how dangerous the race game was, without the threat of any added danger from unscrupulous drivers.

She watched as the car was once again loaded on to the truck and Tom and Harry got into the driver's cab, then she climbed on the back of Sam's motorbike. They all returned to the garage, where the Riley was unloaded and safely locked away. Then the four of them found a cafe in Shirley to eat.

They discussed the run in low tones so that no one could overhear their conversation. Turning to Connie, Sam said, ‘You mustn't breathe a word of what you saw today, sweetheart, we don't want to let the cat out of the bag before the race. You do understand how important this is, don't you?'

‘Of course,' she assured him.

‘We won't even tell Jimmy. Not that I don't trust him, but he's young and in his enthusiasm he might let something slip without meaning to. We'll just say there is more work needed to be done before we're satisfied.'

‘Today was so thrilling, I can't wait for Silverstone,' she said.

He took her hand in his. ‘Neither can I.'

She knew by his expression he wasn't referring to the race, and she felt even more excited as she smiled at him.

Jake Barton too was looking forward to Silverstone. He and his men had been working on a Jaguar he'd bought for the race, and he felt at last he had a vehicle that would beat the living daylights out of Sam Knight. That was even more important to him than winning the race itself; such was his obsession with the other driver. This was a great concern to his mechanics, who were sitting together in a pub, discussing the forthcoming race over a pint of beer.

Charlie was the first to put his thoughts into words. ‘For the first time ever we have a chance in this race at Silverstone, but that bloody lunatic could ruin it if he doesn't keep focused on the race itself. All he talks about is beating Knight, and that worries me!'

‘My thoughts exactly!' agreed Bert. ‘We've slogged our bloody guts out tuning that engine and working on the body to make it safe – but to what end?'

Sipping his beer Charlie was deep in thought. Putting down the glass he looked at his friend and said, ‘If he screws up the race, I'm off! Unless he can show me he's a professional when it's the big time, I'm moving on.' He rubbed his chin. ‘I haven't forgotten how he decked me … for nothing!'

‘Me too!' Bert agreed. ‘There are others who will appreciate what we have to offer; we won't lose out if we put the word about.' He lit a cigarette. ‘This race is his last chance.'

Unaware of the hostility felt by his two men, Jake was in his garage sitting in the driving seat of his Jaguar, slowly revving the engine, listening to it purr. Stroking the dashboard lovingly.

‘You little beauty,' he murmured. ‘With you I'm going to show that bastard, Knight, just how good a driver I am. It's time he was taken down a peg or two.' He started laughing until the tears ran down his cheeks.

Prior to the race the
Southampton Evening Echo
ran an article about the two local men who were entering. There was a picture of Sam and another of Jake Barton. The list of Sam's successes far outweighed his opposition, which only enraged Jake more as he read it and fuelled the overwhelming hatred he felt for his rival.

Connie was delighted, of course, as she and her father read it together in the sitting room, discussing the young man, her father filled with admiration for his achievements. He passed the paper over to Madge to look at. She glanced at it briefly and just sniffed.

George looked at his daughter and winked. ‘Take no notice,' he whispered.

John Baker, now living in a rented flat, also read the paper that evening as he ate his spaghetti on toast. He studied the features of the good-looking young man in the picture and was consumed with jealousy. Not only was he missing the comforts of home, but he was also missing the sexual excitement of his affair with Connie. Now this Lothario would be getting what he thought of as his.

His wife, Kay, had been to her solicitor and filed for divorce. He
was
now allowed to see his daughter on alternative weekends, which was heartbreaking for him, although she seemed to have accepted that he was now living elsewhere, and Kay – Kay was cold and businesslike when he called. In the hopes that he could stop the divorce going through and return to the marital home, he'd not caused any difficulty over finances; besides, he didn't want his little girl to have to do without. He had taken Kay flowers on one occasion, but she'd refused them.

‘That isn't necessary,' she'd said. ‘The only thing I want from you is to meet my financial needs – nothing more.'

The weekend of the race, Kay was taking Susan away so he thought he'd go to Silverstone and watch, see what made this young chap so interesting. After all, he'd nothing else to do and these days his free time hung heavily, especially the weekend when he didn't see his daughter.

Connie had taken a few days' holiday time that was due to her to enable her to go with Sam to the race. Her parents were concerned about her going and staying overnight, until Sam called on them.

‘Thank you so much for letting Connie come with us,' he said. ‘She's part of the team now, a mascot, and we couldn't possibly go without her.' He looked at George. ‘Don't worry, sir; I'll take good care of her, as will my two men. She'll be perfectly safe with us.'

‘And where will she be sleeping?' Madge asked sharply.

Connie was mortified, but her father stepped in.

‘That's enough from you, Mother, thank you!' He shook Sam's hand. ‘Good luck, young man. Take care on the track.'

Early on the following Saturday morning, Harry and Tom piled into the truck carrying the Riley and took off, closely followed by Sam and Connie on his motorcycle. It was a warm summer day and the weather forecast was good. They had all been praying for a dry track. Sam had explained how much more difficult it was when it was raining.

‘Sometimes you can't see in front of you from the spray from the other cars, and that can be really frightening.'

She had pushed such a thought from her mind. She was worried enough about his safety as it was.

Although it was early when they arrived at Silverstone, it was already buzzing. Trucks of all sizes were arriving with the race vehicles. Spectators were gathering early to make sure of a good viewing position. Marshals were wandering around doing their jobs; mechanics were attending to their own particular vehicle like mother hens around a favourite child. Officials were inspecting each car, making sure it adhered to the conditions of the entry.

Sam happened to glance up as Jake and his men drove in. Sam told his mechanics, and they watched as the Jaguar was unloaded.

Jake saw them watching and grinned to himself. Well, here it is, Knight, he thought. This is my revenge for all the other races where you beat me. Today is mine!

Connie was on edge. This race was different, she could tell. There was a charged atmosphere all around her. It was one long race. Twenty laps of the course, and there were more cars entered this time. She could feel her heart thumping as the day wore on and the time for the start drew neared. Sam and his mates were no longer jovial, they were there to win, and that was paramount in their minds. This was not the time for frivolity.

As the start grew nigh, Sam gathered Connie into his arms. ‘Give me a hug,' he said. ‘Now, I don't want you to worry, I'll be fine. We'll celebrate together tonight.' He kissed her hard and long.

Eventually, the cars were to be driven on the track. Each taking their place on the grid, according to their place on the race winner's table. Connie saw Jake was much further back than Sam, who was four cars from the front. She tucked her arm through Tom's for comfort.

He glanced down at her and saw the concern on her face. ‘You have got to learn to relax, Connie, or you'll be a basket case by the end!'

‘Don't tell me
you
feel relaxed,' she retorted, ‘I can feel the tension in you just holding your arm!' They both laughed, which helped to relieve their feelings a little.

The drivers began revving their engines as the marshal stood holding the flag aloft. It dropped, and they were off!

Sam moved off quickly, threading his way through two cars in front of him, leaving Barton in his wake. Connie cheered loudly. She found herself stiffen when the car was out of sight on the other side of the track, but breathed a sigh of relief when Sam sped past the grandstand in third place.

To Connie, the race seemed endless and nerve-racking. As the race progressed, the lead cars changed place. At one time Sam had dropped back two places with Barton moving up.

As they drove past on the penultimate lap, Sam was behind the lead car. Connie and the two men could hardly contain their excitement, but they gasped aloud as they saw Jake try and overtake at speed, catching the rear of the car in front. They both spun out. Bits of metal flew over the track, and a wheel bounced over a fence, missing spectators by a miracle. The Jaguar piled into a load of hay bales and stopped, smoke pouring from beneath the bonnet. Everyone held their breath as Barton clambered out just before the vehicle erupted into flames. The other car stopped ahead of him but not close enough to be in danger from the flames. The driver ran over to Barton waving his fists angrily as marshals put out the fire with extinguishers. Stewards pulled the two drivers apart – as blows were exchanged – and led them away.

The race had to be stopped. There was debris on the track which was deemed too dangerous for the race to continue. The result was announced eventually, placing the cars in order they were in before the accident.

Sam stood on the rostrum in second place.

As Connie, Tom and Harry stood applauding, Tom tried to conceal his anger.

‘If that bloody lunatic hadn't driven so dangerously, Sam stood a good chance of winning this race,' he declared.

‘But hopefully no one was seriously hurt,' Connie said. She was just relieved the whole thing was over and that Sam was in one piece.

Back in the pits, Jake Barton was raging. He loudly blamed the other driver for the accident. ‘If he hadn't moved over I could have caught up with Knight!'

His two mechanics had reached the end of their tethers. Charlie faced Barton and, grabbing him by the front of his overalls, he peered into his face, puce with anger.

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