Page 2 of Away We Go

Matt hesitates. “It’s just that…”

My hackles rise and I want to scream at him to ‘spit it out already!’

“What?”

“Mum said Cherry isn’t doing so well. While she was with Troy, she became withdrawn, distant. Not her usual self. And now since the break-up, it’s gotten worse. She’s spending a lot of time alone and not seeing her friends. She’s not even doing hervolunteer work anymore. It’s like he dulled her shine and she can’t find it again, even after he’s gone.”

The picture he’s painting pulls at my almost non-existent heartstrings. The Cherry I know has always had a full life. With lots of friends. And she loves volunteering at the local animal shelter every Saturday. From what Matt’s describing, this relationship has left some scars on Cherry and just the idea of her hurting, being alone and isolated in her heartbreak, has me wanting to fix it.

It’s always been this way with Cherry. She’s the one person in my life I’d do just about anything for.

“So, what can I do to help?” I’m curious about what he’s planning. As one of only twenty Formula 1 drivers in the world, I’m never home. Like, ever. It took an army of personal assistants, managers, PR people, and some good luck to get me here to celebrate the wedding of my best friend to his soul mate, Nancy. And that was only because Matt and his lovely fiancé planned their wedding during the F1 off-season.

“I was thinking,” Matt says. “Maybe Cherry can join your social media team. And travel around with you.”

His suggestion falls between us like a lead balloon. He must be joking.

“Matt, come on. You know what it’s like, being part of the F1 machine. It’s no place for Cherry.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not so bad.”

Matt would know. In the first year after I’d moved from Oakhill to London to pursue my dream of racing the fastest cars in the world, he had joined me. It had been a win-win for both of us. I had a piece of home with me—the best piece—and he’d gotten to travel the world, be paid a generous salary, and lead what some would view as a charmed life.

But we both know the reality. The travel is brutal, being in a new place almost every other week. The schedule is both exhausting and borderline unsustainable. And the ability just to live your life is…gone. The right to privacy is non-existent—the world watches and critiques everything you do and say. And although the highs are euphoric, the lows are sometimes debilitating. Sweet Cherry coming along on this ride with me was inconceivable. How could Matt even suggest it?

“Don’t say no yet,” he begs.

“No.”

A flurry of pictures of Cherry through the years floats through my mind. From a cherub baby to a mischievous toddler all the way through her awkward teenage years, she’s been like a little sister, there for me to protect. Not to throw into the lion’s den.

“She’s too young.”

Another picture flashes through my mind, this one from Cherry’s twenty-first birthday. It was a rare occasion where I could make it home to celebrate, and I’d turned up to her party as a surprise. Only to find the surprise had been on me. Cherry had been dressed in a pale pink dress, all grown up, and looking like a goddess. It was a gut punch to realise that after not being home in over three years, while I wasn’t looking, she’d grown up. Gone was the girl I used to know and in her place was a stunning woman. Worse still, I was looking at her like a man looked at a woman and feeling very unbrotherly towards her, and so I had hightailed it out of there as quickly as possible and put it—her—out of my mind.

“She’s twenty-four now, man. And she’d be a great addition to your social media team. Unlike me, who you hired with only the qualification of ‘best friend’ in my resume.”

I grin at this. When he’d first come on my payroll, we’d had to find some sort of position for him. To start with, he was mypersonal trainer, which morphed into a wellness coach. And then he just became a personal manager of sorts.

What he doesn’t realise is that—his miscellaneous titles aside—I couldn't have achieved the success I’ve had in F1 without him. He’s an integral cog in my wheel and now that he’s getting married and leaving my team to move home, I’m not sure how I will function without him.

“And, it will be good for you to have someone from home with you, now that I’m leaving,” he adds, reading my thoughts.

“Cherry’s not right for that kind of lifestyle,' I say, truly believing what I’m saying. I want to help her out of whatever situation she’s in, but this can’t be the way to do it. It just can’t.

He crosses his arms over his broad chest, his jaw set at a stubborn angle. “You don’t know her anymore, Nicky. She’s got a good job at one of the top marketing companies in Melbourne. She’s the head of their social media department. And she leads some of their top-performing accounts. And check these out.” He thrusts his phone in front of my face, so close my eyes cross as I try to focus.

“What am I looking at?” I move the phone to a reasonable distance and squint, the dull lighting in the bar making it hard to see what’s on the screen in front of me.

“It’s Cherry’s social media account. She took all these photos.”

I exhale deeply as I scroll through image after image. Each is more beautiful than the next. There’s an array of people—ordinary people—in the streets of Melbourne, mixed with landscapes and cityscapes.

They’re exquisite.

“So, she’s got a good eye for taking photos.” I cringe at this understatement. “That doesn’t mean she has what it takes to be part of our social media team.”

He scrolls for another second before pointing to the screen with a raised eyebrow. It’s a photo of me from the Melbourne Grand Prix last year. I finished second in that race and Cherry had captured my quiet moment of reflection on the podium before the chaos of the celebration erupted. I’d seen thousands of photos from that weekend, but never one as beautiful as this one. Or as real.

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