Don't Try To Stop Me - Sequel to 'Trust Is Everything'

Chapter Five

I heard cheers all around me as I crossed the finish line. I had won the Superbike 1000, the final race of the weekend. I stood on the podium with my trophy and cracked open the bottle of champagne as the other two racers sprayed me with theirs.

Afterwards, I helped the team get everything cleared up in the tent and get all the equipment into the van and the bikes into the truck. I told the team I would meet them at the ferry as they pulled out of the yard in the van. As soon as I knew they were gone, I lit a cigarette and leaned against the front of the truck. Damn that was good race!

I finished my cigarette and was just about to climb up into the drivers seat when someone caught my arm.

"James, wait!" The familiar voice said.

I turned round to see the same blonde haired girl that had given me my life story the day before.

"Can I help you? Or are you just here to tell me more about myself?" I said sarcastically and unimpressed.

She still had hold of my arm, which resulted in me having to step down from the truck and face her. As I went to speak again, she caught me by surprise by grabbing the front of my sponsor coat and yanking me towards her.
Her lips made contact with mine. Hard. All I could do was kiss her back. Suddenly she pushed me away and I hit the side of the truck.

"What the fuck?!" I exclaimed as she looked at me for one split second, tears in her eyes, then turned and sprinted away. The other cars blocked my view of where she went. I was just left there, surprised and seriously confused. I hesitantly climbed back into the truck and put my hand in my pocket to get the keys out. Instead, I felt a piece of paper that hadn't been there before. I pulled it out and read it,

"James Martin. You truly are a mystery. I can't figure you out, your barrier is built too big for me to understand you any further. I may not be able to figure you out, but now it's your turn to figure me out. Give me a call."

She must have stuck it in my pocket when she grabbed my arm. Sneaky. I read the note a few times more and stared at the number given. Who was she? Why was she so hooked on getting through my "barrier"? Shaking my head, I turned the key in the ignition until the lorry rattled and roared to life. I drove home that afternoon seriously confused and desperately seeking answers. But I knew that that was exactly what she wanted.

-

*2 weeks later*

I lay across the sofa watching the tv coverage of Kirkistown from two weeks ago. My big win was featured which I was very happy to see. It had been two weeks since Kirkistown, and that meant it had been five weeks since I had that argument with my parents. That was the last time I had saw them.

I didn't go near their house, I stayed in and around my own place, unless I had races of course. I reached into my good old sponsor coat pocket and pulled out the, now very crumpled, note. I still hadn't had the balls to ring her, but she was such a mystery and she knew things about me that I didn't know myself. I wanted to know more. After staring at my phone for 10 minutes straight, I finally decided to call her. I had just lifted up my phone when it began to ring.
'Dad' flashed up on the screen. I was surprised, he never rang me, and especially given that we hadn't spoken since the argument. I suspected he had seen my win and wanted to know how the race was. I answered it,

"Hello?"
"James." My dad said, but he didn't sound very happy, more dull yet somehow stunned.
"Dad what is it? You don't sound yourself." I said, slight panic building up in me.
"James. It's your mum. She's been in a car accident...she...she didn't make it..." his voice broke towards the end of the sentence before I heard the tears in his voice.
I stood there for a moment, pondering what he had just said. This is impossible, this can't be happening. No! No it's not true! It can't be! I hung up the phone and ran out of the house. I jumped into my car and began speeding to my parents house. I needed to see my mum.

When I pulled up outside, two police cars and an ambulance were there. I leaped out and strode across the grass. A policeman stopped me at the door,
"Sorry son no ones allowed in the house."
"I'm James Martin! I'm Victoria's son! Where is she?" I shouted.
He put his hands on my shoulders,
"Calm down son, calm down. Your mother is in the ambulance but-" I cut him off as I quickly turned to walk to the ambulance. He put a hand on my chest to stop me before continuing his sentence,
"But I'm afraid she didn't make it. James, your mother is dead. I'm sorry."
Tears welled up in my eyes,
"No! She's in the ambulance. She'll want to see me!" I pushed my way out of his hand and darted to the open doors of the ambulance. But when I got there I froze. There, in a half-zipped white body bag, was my mum. Her skin was as white as snow, her chest didn't rise and fall anymore, and even though her eyes were closed, there wasn't any emotion on her face. The policeman was right.

I sank down then and there on the verge of the front garden. Tears began pouring out of my eyes like waterfalls. Then, my dad appeared beside me, also crying hard. He put his arm around me as we sat in the darkness with only the lights of the ambulance. As much as I refused to believe it, I knew it was true. My mum was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it.