I CAN SEE YOU

thirteen

"Sault!" I wave to the cheering fans behind the barricades. Today is the French Grand Prix and my excitement is through the roof. It's my first ever home Grand Prix considering last year it was cancelled due to covid.

The crowd is amazing, ever since I stepped foot out of my car this morning they've been cheering me on. I've tried my best to have as many fan interactions as possible, much to Leah's distaste as it's made me late to multiple meetings and interviews, but I can't help it, they've travelled this far to see us race so I'm making the trip a little bit more memorable.

Getting to the Redbull hospitality was fairly easy, I'd only been approached a couple of times, meaning I managed to get there rather quickly.

The doors open and I search around the room, my eyes landing on the woman who doesn't look a day over 25.

"Mère!" I shout, making a bee line straight for her. She whips her head around to face me, her light brown hair bouncing flawlessly over her shoulder, lightly slapping the man on her arms face with it but all I can focus on is her icy blue eyes that land on me.

By now I've not seen my mother since her big New Years ball, an annual event that I'm forced to attend, but it's clear to see that's she's not changed at all.

My mother has it all, the fame and the fortune. She's a high end model who started her career when she was only eight years old, and although many people would beg to have that life, in my opinion there's a good few downfalls. One being how heavily dependant you become on looks. Ever since I was younger my mother's always been focused upon looks, what I wear, what I eat, what I weigh, the list is non stop. She's always believed that her looks have been her ace card, something she can always be dependant on, bragging that it always gets her what she wants, which most of the time is the revolving door of men that flood her way, which is why I don't even know the name of the new man on her arm who is definitely different to who she had with her at the ball.

As I reach her, she elegantly stands as though balancing a china teapot on her head, opening her arms for me to embrace her. I step inside them and wrap my arms around her model thin middle, her arms enclosing around me, locking me in. Her hug is warm and smells like home - something I miss so dearly.

"Oh my darling. Look at you." She pulls me away at arms length, looking me up and down. "You look so, ugh, muscly." She tries to complement, but I know that deep down it's not to her taste. She always wanted me to become a model just like her, fair to say she never thought that her daughter would become a famous race driver.

"I need it for racing." I explain to her kindly. "And I kind of like it, means I can pack more of a punch." I lightly land one on her arm which she just laughs at.

"Oh, I need to introduce you to James." She directs my attention to the man awkwardly sitting behind her. He's fairly tall with well styled hair, and a smile that I can tell he's trying to make seem as kind as possible.

He stands up holding out a hand towards me. "It's a pleasure to meet you Madeline." He speaks in a broad American accent. "You're moms said so much about you."

"All positive I hope." I laugh, taking his hand in mine and giving it a firm shake before turning back to her. "Where have you been? I was expecting you here yesterday and Friday as well."

I had gotten my mother a pass for the whole weekend yet this was the first time I had seen her. There was no phone call or text message to tell me why she was MIA, I just had to hope each day that when I walked in she'd be there.

"I'm sorry darling." She rubs a hand over my cheek, her soft thumb tracing over my cheekbone which instantly soothes me. "I had a work thing come up very last minute. They wanted me for the whole week, but I just told them that I couldn't do today, because today is your day and I couldn't miss it." Her world class smile emerges on her face, and once again I feel like a child searching for my mothers approval.