The Red Bull Party Girl |ON HOLD|

34. Singapore.

Relations between Seb and Christian were strained to say the least and by the time we arrived Singapore rumours were rife that Seb was looking to leave the team. We could only blame the reliability problems he'd encountered during the season and his struggle to get to grips with his RB10 for the rumours that had gathered pace since the summer break and seemed to have reached fever pitch now, for we knew that the team were sworn to secrecy and anyone found to be leaking to the press would be promptly fired and find themselves unable to get another job in the sport. Unsurprisingly my appearance at the event on Thursday had been shelved, as had Seb's, due to our incident making the press here and poor Britta had had her work cut out filtering out the people who were only after gossip from those who wanted to actually talk about the race weekend. Not only that, but she was also dealing with the rumours of him quitting the team and fending off reporters who were firing personal questions at him wherever he went. So far it was proving to be a stressful weekend and for me it was a frustrating one; I was only six weeks pregnant and morning sickness had hit already. It meant I'd spent chunks of time on the flight over throwing up in the cramped toilet and then I'd pretty much been confined to our hotel suite since we landed with Seb putting my absence from the garages down to a stomach bug so as not to raise suspicion. It would work for now, but we couldn't keep using that as an excuse, with five races still to go I'd have to try and work around it somehow, at least until we got to Austin at the end of October when we would have hopefully had a twelve week scan before getting there. Then we'd have to make the decision as whether we went public with our news. Now it was Sunday, although what time it was I hadn't got a clue and I was hugging the toilet bowl, clinging on to it for dear life. Staying in European time while being in Singapore time was seriously fucking with my body clock and I'd been feeling like I'd been throwing up at all hours, not just in the mornings or afternoons or whatever they were. But halfway through yesterday I had been beginning to feel relatively normal and I was hoping that today was going to be the same. I was determined to go to the circuit with Seb today, even if I just sat in hospitality anything would be better than staring at the four walls of this hotel room. I heard the bathroom door open behind me.
"You ok there mumma?" Seb chuckled and patted me on the back, I responded by giving him the finger as I threw up once more.
"What do you want?" I asked as I sat up on my heels and wiped my mouth with some toilet paper. I turned my head to look at him, he was shuffling from foot to foot.
"I need to pee." He replied.
"Can't you wait?" I could feel my stomach getting ready for round ninety-nine.
"You've kind of been in here for nearly an hour. I'm desperate." He pulled a pained looking expression so to put him out of his misery I reached up and flushed the loo before shuffling along the floor enough to make space for him. I felt so fucking sick that I daren't move more than a few inches away and so I was given the treat of listening to him groan with relief while he pissed with me sitting next to his left leg like a dog who won't leave his owner. There's always that one pet who follows you into the bathroom, isn't there? Who said romance was dead? The poor bloke was only just finished when my head appeared beneath him once more, making him stagger back a few steps. "You could at least let me flush the toilet Harper." He said as I wretched and gagged.
"Fuck you." I muttered, in between bouts as he washed his hands.
"I did, that's how babies are made." He shot back, I heard him laugh at his own joke.
"Not funny Vettel, not funny." I sat up again and flushed the toilet once more, there wasn't anything coming up now, I was just dry heaving.
"Seriously Harps, I think you should stay here today." He squatted down to my level. "You look....."
"Like shit, yeah I know." I cut him off.
"I was going to say tired." He smiled. "You need to rest."
"I'm kind of done with the resting thing, it's all I've done all weekend. I'll probably feel ok by lunch time."
"And if you don't?"
"Then I'll have to quarantine myself in your changing room." I flipped the lid down on the toilet seat and sat up on it.
"Then you'll have Emma fussing over you and you know what she's like, she'll get suspicious." There was a knock at the door and he stood up. "That'll be room service with breakfast."
"You're not going down to eat with the team?" I asked, not really wanting to smell any food. Just the thought of it made another wave of nausea sweep over me.
"I don't want to leave you, not until I really have to. I'll eat lunch with them at the track this afternoon." He smiled and left to answer the door while I literally fell off the toilet in my haste to throw up.