George changed.
Carla doesn't know when it happened, how or even where, but he has. He's not the same man she fell in love with five years ago.
Lando's the one who noticed first, the thought whispered to her when George had plucked the wine out of...
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"I'm just wanting to know you're okay." Mum has repeated the sentence at least four times since I answered the call five minutes ago. I sigh and wipe my hands over my eyes before pressing the button for the lift.
"I'm fine Mum." I urge (for the fourth time) with a firm nod of my head, the action making me wince at the tug of tender muscles in my neck. Maybe I'm not completely fine - but fine enough. The medical centre would've kept me in for further observations if they didn't think so. Hot shower, ice on the tender muscles and rest for the evening is what they had advised - I've heard it all before and Mum knows this too. Still, she worries.
"You're my baby boy, and you can't lie to me the same way you lie to those interviewers." I feel scolded by her tone. Heat graces my cheeks at feeling completely seen by my mother. Of course she saw the interviews where I denied anything was even wrong, that I was fine - Mum always sees everything. When she's not at races she made our family home a temple of sports channels, every single one available 'just incase'. I'm pretty sure if Sky Sports collapsed she'd have an alternative in a tenth of a second.
"Mum..." I groan. If my neck wasn't so sore I'm sure I'd my throw my head back in frustration. The slight jerk I make makes up for it. Pain shoots through me and I grit my teeth together in an effort to not groan at the tug of tension. It would only worry her more. "Do you not think Amber or Dan would've said if I wasn't?" I promise tightly. Not that I've told either of them how much my body is throbbing in discomfort from the impact of todays crash. "I'd be in the back of an ambulance or airlifted somewhere if I wasn't. I'm fine!" I stress. The woman on the other end of the line tuts tightly.
"Your sister already said you've been strange since summer. This is just..." she trails off helplessly, quiet. It's unlike Mum, and somehow exactly how I would expect her to be. A pang of guilt echoes in my chest over the worry I'm causing her, I'm fine pissing off just about everyone apart from my parents when they've given me so much. "What on earth was George doing?!" Mum questions to herself in a mutter. It's the same question I've been asking myself on repeat for the last three hours.
What the hell was George doing?
I had the inside line on turn ten, he knew it! He would've seen it a mile off. I was ahead into the turn and late braking meant that at the exit I remained was ahead - easily. Half of my car was infront, even the commentators acknowledged it when I've watched the whole thing back. So when George didn't lay off the accelerator and grace me with enough space to exit safely it sent us both careening towards the barriers; me worse than him.
I had nothing to do in those three or four seconds before the car ground to a halt but feel my heart pound in my chest. The gravel dust cast into the air made the heaved inhale feel thick as I braced for some sort of impact, a silent prayer that the barriers will do their job and the gravel slow me moving enough as the car spins at a dizzying speed so that it won't hurt too much. Or worse. All I could do was brace as the last words I heard from every single person I loved played through my mind.
