Page 43 of Head Over Wheels

‘That’s the spirit,’ Dad said with a grin as he emerged from the lobby.

Hurriedly concealing the paper bag behind my back, I had to admit – only to myself – that I appreciated what Colin had done for me in picking it up.

Strapped into the back of the cab, I waited for Colin to predictably fall asleep and Dad to be deep in conversation with the cabbie, and then dived for the mysterious gift. Peering into the packet, I found a clear plastic box with gold writing on the outside and a velvet pillow. Jimmying it open as quietly as possible, I tugged out a fine gold chain with two medallions hanging off it. The first bore a relief image of a woman in mediaeval armour holding a sword, with the words ‘Jeanne d’Arc’ around the edge. And the second showed a monk feeding a wolf, surrounded by other animals, with two birds flying overhead. I didn’t need to read the ‘San Francesco’ on the side to know this was the patron saint of animals.

With a wobbly smile, I dropped the necklace back into the box and shoved it into my backpack.

18 March 20:56

Folklore: Colin looked ready to die on the Poggio today. I bet Dad’s happy you got him up and over. Bad luck on the sprint.

20:59

Folklore: But I hope you’re celebrating. Seventh is amazing.

22 March 18:42

Folklore: Congrats on fifth. Awful conditions. Hope the scrape isn’t too painful.

26 March 17:13

Folklore: Holy shit that was close. Colin should have won it.Youshould have won it.

2 April 19:26

Folklore: I hate to say I told you so… I bet the champagnetasted amazing, even without alcohol. You deserved that podium place today.

19:48

Folklore: This is really childish, Seb. You’re the one who said we should stay friends. We’re finally in the same city again. Are you going to keep pretending I don’t exist at dinner tonight?

19:59

LoonieDunes: You told me I was only allowed to text you to congratulate you when you win. It didn’t go so well last time I wished you luck. Bon appétit.

Folklore: Don’t be so superstitious.

LoonieDunes: I hate to say I told you so…

Folklore: What are you talking about? I just dropped my fork. I can get another one.

LoonieDunes: Dropping a fork is bad luck. It means an unwanted visitor is on their way.

Folklore: Stop texting me from across the room oryou’llget an unwanted visitor.

LoonieDunes: Oh look, here comes your dad.

Folklore: I was right. You should only text me to congratulate me when I win.

Chapter 17

Seb

It always rained in France when I was here.

That morning in early April, though, I knew exactly why it was raining: because of my stupid bad luck that Lori was still battling. So far in the Spring Classics, she’d come 20th at Lake Maggiore after a peloton crash that took out both Doortje and Bonnie and left her needing to swap bikes. She’d got caught by a brand-new pothole opening up in heavy rain during the Brugge-De Panne and crossed the line 15th in the Gent-Wevelgem after sneezing through most of the race. Then she’d crashed out of the Tour of Flanders with a sprained wrist last week, at pretty much the exact moment I was crossing the line in second place in the men’s race.

Today was the Paris-Roubaix Femmes, one of the most prestigious one-day races in the calendar. Lori would be waking up in her team hotel at a town further north, the start for the women, and I was here in a place calledCompiègne, which I only knew was not quite Paris, even though it was the start for the men’s race tomorrow.

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