Earlier than normal because I'm tired and won't be able to post tomorrow. Hope you don't mind! I love reading your comments so make sure to leave them as you're reading ❤️
It was safe to say that I didn't sleep well, or at all for that matter. I felt significantly heavier after Juliette's revelation and completely forgot what normal felt like. My body hadn't been plagued with an emotion this severely down since the death of my dad a couple of years ago, the only comparable feeling in recent times being when I thought I was going to lose Marcus. Despite all of these feelings, there was an underlying sense of numbness that could be described most similarly to an emptiness just knowing that I'm never going to see my mum again.
My mum and I had our differences - that was clear to anyone who knew us. She wasn't as much of a petrolhead as my dad and I were, but she always made an effort to try and make me happy. Whenever he was unable to drive (whether it be his sickness or a commitment to work), mum would be the first to offer support to my karting races and drive me anywhere in the country that I needed to go. It wasn't until the Silverstone Grand Prix that I ever doubted her support for me. With hindsight, her outburst was so out of character that I should've questioned it rather than just getting mad. If what Juliette said was true, she would've been going through the first few rounds of treatment during that time... maybe that was what she was making the poor excuses for?
Juliette arrived to pick me up a little after ten. We barely said more than a few sentences to each other throughout the entire drive to my mum's house, the house I grew up at every other week, which was about an hour and a half away in Bristol. My dad had moved to Milton Keynes upon their divorce so I was constantly commuting by train just so I could see both of my parents equally.
My phone was on 'do not disturb' mode for the sole purpose being that I didn't want the constant checkups from Kudzai, Damien, and Marcus. I had yet to tell anyone else and, quite frankly, I didn't want any more people telling me how 'sorry' they are. Their intentions may be all well and good, but I learned with my dad's death that it just makes you hurt so much more. The constant reminder that they're truly dead can ruin a person.
All of the old memories started to come back the moment we started to pass the more familiar areas. When I spotted the slightly run-down house on the end of the street, the messy '70' painted in bright pink paint on the brick wall after all this time, I wanted to cry. The last time I had visited here at the beginning of the year to visit mum with Murray and Kudzai, I didn't take in all of the little details that made this place feel home. I took all those happy memories for granted. I'm never going to feel the same way here again.
"You don't have to come in if you don't want to," Juliette broke the silence. We had spent a good five minutes just sat in the car, our eyes fixated on the building a few feet away.
I shook my head and swallowed the burning lump in my throat. "No, I want to." Before Juliette could say anything that might change my mind, I unfastened my seatbelt and stepped out of the car. She quickly followed suit, locking the door behind her as she jogged up to me.
"Tilly, her carer, said that mum put a box together for us." I knew that Juliette was trying to stay strong but her voice betrayed her. She sounded like she was about to breakdown on the spot so I took the keys from her shaky hand to unlock the front door myself. "Thank you," she quietly mumbled.
"How come you got a key to the house and I didn't?" I asked, mustering the most light-hearted tone I possibly could. "Even Kudz got a key before I did."
Juliette chuckled softly despite the tears falling down her cheeks. "Because you are shit with losing things. After the sixth time she had to replace your tamagotchi, mum knew better than to trust you with a key to her house. She probably bagged on the fact that you wouldn't accidentally lose Kudzai somewhere so you could come back whenever you wanted."
"That was actually pretty smart."
"Yeah." We stood in the brief enjoyment of the memory before realising that we hadn't even opened the door. I didn't want to push it open and Juliette seemed to sense that as she put on her metaphorical big sister boots and took the lead. With a deep breath, she pulled down the handle and took the first steps in.
It was obvious from the moment that we stepped in that the house had been empty for a while. Everything seemed unusually cold since the heating obviously hadn't been on in ages which contrasted the warm memories I associated with stepping into the house. Furniture had been adjusted to accommodate the large bed taking up the majority of the living space. The remanence of medical furniture, such as the hooks for a drip, were still evident and brought a sick feeling to my stomach. Is this where mum spent her last few days, or even weeks?
"I should've known." My broken voice broke the silence. The more I stared at the room, the more blurred everything became as tears welled up. "I should've visited. I should've-"
"You didn't know."
"I could have payed for treatment!" My hand flew to my mouth to shield a sob whilst the other arm wrapped tightly around my waist. "I've got to be one of the worst daughters-"
"Stop it, Alyssa," Juliette still managed to sound firm when she spoke. "For once in your life, stop overthinking."
"You have an excuse, Julie - you were away for months at a time. Me? I was back in the UK every other week minimum and not once did I make the drive to try and talk to mum."
"Oh, shut up," Juliette rolled her eyes, "you are just as stubborn as mum. Things happen the way the universe intends them to happen, nothing we can do can prevent that. She's dead, Lys, and you blaming yourself isn't doing anyone any good because it can't bring her back. She's not coming back."
I swallowed hard, wiping the tears hastily from under my eyes. "I know."
"C'mon, lets just go through what we need to and get out of here."
I made the first move to walk around the back of the askew chair and pick up the first brown box labelled in huge letters 'KIDS - J'. It was relatively light so moved it with ease into the back room, which had more floor space to go through the boxes. In total, there were four brown boxes, three still neatly placed by the side of the bed. Whilst Juliette went into the kitchen to grab a knife, I gently traces over the edges of the box with my finger, imagining my mum doing the same.
I held my breath when Juliette cut the tape and opened the boxes. A soft gasp escaped her lips when she pulled out a little yellow post-it note. Written in a thin blue pen was Juliette's name.
"Is this box mine?" She hesitantly asked. "You must have one with your name."
To either confirm or deny her theory, I shuffled over to the boxes and chose the one labelled 'KIDS - A'. There was another one which, upon inspection, read 'KIDS - X', and then another which simply had the letter 'L'. My first guess was that it stood for Libby (my mums name) but my focus was on the box singularly addressed to me.
I decided to take my box over to the bottom of the stairs both so I could give Juliette some privacy whilst she went through her box, and so that I had some privacy of my own. I picked up a spare key from the third step and used its sharp edge to pierce and cut the brown tape holding the lid down. Similarly to Juliette's, the first thing I noticed when I opened the box was a little post-it note, however mine was pink, with my name neatly written in a thin blue ink.
I didn't spend too long getting nostalgic at the few school projects that my mum deemed worthy enough to keep which were in the box. What piqued my interest was an A4 scrapbook with a large letter 'A' on the front in pink glitter - I remember decorating it when I was no older than four. A small smile found its way onto my face when I flicked through the pages, each one hosting a small picture with a small bit of text by its side and a doodle. These ranged from 'Alyssa's first steps', to 'Alyssa's first day at primary', and even 'Alyssa's first (of many) victories'. The final entry in the scrapbook was a picture of me under my helmet in front of my f1 car which was parked in front of a large number one. 'Alyssa's first pole in formula one. I couldn't be more proud of you, love. I'm sorry I missed the race xxx', was the message written by its side. I couldn't help the couple of tears that splashed onto the bottom of the page; my mum was proud of me.
After a shaky exhale, I closed the scrapbook and placed it to one side so I could continue going through the contents of the box. Underneath the book was a plastic container filled to the brim with trophies I had won in my youth and medals. Only a few had my actual first name on them, whilst the majority had either 'A' or 'Archer'. I had always wondered where these went since I hadn't seen them since my dad died. I had just assumed that they were accidentally destroyed or sent to charity shops when they cleared his house.
I spent over twenty minutes just rifling through the contents of the box. So many memories and reminders were kept in such a small area that it amazed me. The final thing I came across was a letter addressed to me. The scrawling of my name on the front was messy, as if the person holding the pen was too weak to do so. The date in the top right-hand corner was for the fourteenth of September. I was hesitant to open it as it was obviously written by my mum.
'To my sweet, ambitious daughter,
If you've received this letter, I've long since passed. You're probably mad at me. I wouldn't blame you if you are. I couldn't be there for you when you needed me most and I worry I have failed you as a mother. When I see all of your achievements so far, I couldn't be more proud of the woman you are becoming and wish I could've given you more.
Alyssa you were always stubborn. I guess you got that trait from me and I'm certainly glad. You have fought through the impossible to achieve so much despite not even being twenty years old. Your future is so bright, and I didn't want my illness or death to dim it in any way. I told you lies. I didn't want you to be close. I know you, even if you claim I don't. You're the type of person to never leave your loved ones' side if they are sick or injured. The last thing I wanted was for you to give up on anything, or waste your time on me when there wasn't any hope. Your stubbornness has payed off because as of the time I'm writing this, you haven't contacted me. Although it pains me that I'm not going to see you again, I want you to know that despite the fact that I'm unable to pay for the treatments I need, I do not want them. I'm in agony and want the suffering to stop. I'm sorry for the selfishness.
Your face when I told you that I hated racing, and that I didn't support your career, haunted my dreams. It hurts to even think of it but I knew that it was for the best. You proved that you could do so well without me, now you've just got to get through your lifetime. I'll be watching over you my sweet girl. I'll try my hardest to protect you from harm. I want you to know that nothing you could do would make me wish I had anyone else for a daughter. You are uniquely amazing and already more of a person than I ever was.
I love you, Alyssa. I'm sorry I never got to see you win. I'm sorry I never got to see you win that championship. I hope Mercedes take you on as you're the future of the sport and the best driver out there. You're one of my greatest achievements - my legacy. Make me proud, beautiful. I'm rooting for you.
I love you all of the stars in the midnight sky times a million,
Mum xxx'
I clutched the letter tightly to my chest after reading it, strangled sobs escaping through my lips. My mind was so disconnected from the emotional pain that I didn't notice Juliette approach me until her arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders. Leaning into her shoulder, I hugged her back.
"I know it hurts," she whispered, soothingly rubbing my back. "It hurts so fucking much."
"I wish I had called," I cried through gasps of breath.
"Same here." Juliette sighed deeply.
"And we didn't even get to say goodbye."
"You know that box with an 'L' on? There's an urn with mum's ashes in there along with a letter saying where she wanted to be scattered."
I sniffled, looking up through the hot tears to look at Juliette. "Where's that?"
"Silverstone, surprisingly, where you-"
"Where I was discovered, and where I got my first front row start in formula one." I bit my lips tightly together to try and hold back the fresh tears.
"We used to go there to support you every race. It was the only tradition our dysfunctional family had." Juliette smiled weakly at the memory. "You've always had something special."
"I wish that at least one of them would have seen me win a race," I confessed, 'them' being my parents. They died too young. "Dad didn't even get to see me in F1."
"I'm sure they're up there, somewhere, watching you. I won't be surprised if they bicker even in the afterlife - making bets where you'll end up, or when you'll win, or which driver you actually end up with," she said the last bit with a hint of amusement. "Can't believe my little sister is getting more action than me. That's just embarrassing."
"Julie!" I exclaimed, cheeks growing even warmer. "That's inappropriate."
"That's just our family." She shrugged.
***
I wanted to spend the night at mum's house but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, Juliette and I booked into one of the nicer hotels in the city. Our plan was to head back to Silverstone the following day and scatter the ashes a little after lunch time. The only issue was that I'm going to have to fly out to Abu Dhabi a day later than planned.
Kudzai phoned me at eleven when she was prepping her bags for the trip. She was kind enough to offer to pack my own so that I didn't have to worry about it when I came to it. I knew she was grieving as well so I was more than grateful for her.
"So you'll arrive in on Thursday?" Kudzai questioned.
I nodded my head even though she couldn't see me. "Yeah. I'll book flights tomorrow and see what airports have things available. If you could let as few people as possible know the true reason that'll be great."
"I'll just call it a family issue," she reassured, "however I'll have to tell those who work close with you, so, like, Emanuel, Paula, Otmar... you know, that lot. Robert's going to be there, should I tell him?"
"Only if he asks."
"Of course, Lys. And have you told anyone about your mum? Any drivers, or family, or...?"
"My family know, so does Andrea, but I don't know about Xave. No drivers know yet, either-"
"Not even Max? Or Charles? Or Esteban?" Her voice portrayed surprise.
"No, no-one like that."
"Can I ask why?"
I sighed heavily, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger. "I don't want any pity from anyone. People tend to go easier on those who they pity so I'd really rather not disclose the bad news. I'll only tell them if I need to."
"Okay." From her voice alone, I knew she wanted to disagree. "So I have to keep it from Esteban? My own Fiancé?"
"Be very vague. No details about who," I swallowed hard, "died. He may be an idiot, but he's a caring idiot."
"I'll tell him you said that."
"Are you okay?" I asked after a short silence. "I know mum thought of you like a daughter."
"I'm feeling pretty shit, to be honest, but it's still probably a whole load better than what you're feeling right now."
"If you wanted, we could pick you up on the way to Silverstone tomorrow? You can they flight out with me after if you wanted a chance to say goodbye," I offered.
"I wish I could, but I can't. There's too much for me to do and I can't be putting any extra stress on the baby."
"I understand." I let out a sad sigh and leaned back on the bed. "This whole situation is just so fucked."
"I can't believe you're only finding out two months after she died."
"Mum had her reasons and I've got no choice but to respect that even if it doesn't make me happy."
"You sound like you could do with a hug right about now."
"Yeah," I inhaled sharply, "Juliette should be back soon. She's gone to get us some food from a nearby takeout, and before you interrupt me and say that I need to be looking after myself and preparing for the race, I am looking after myself. Just be happy I'm eating."
"I am, Lys. You do realise I'm going to make you record every meal you have just so I know that you're not falling into old habits." Kudzai's natural mother-like tone was clear in her tone. She was worried about me since I let myself go when my dad died. I know that she doesn't want something like that to happen again.
"I know," I drawled out my words. "And that's why I love you."
"I love you, too, Lys. I'm probably going to have to talk to you later since there's someone at the door."
"Who is it?" I questioned. I could hear her rustling as she stood up and moved (presumably to answer the door). Since she was currently at our apartment on her own, I wanted to make sure she was okay before I hung up.
"I don't know yet, I haven't opened the door." I couldn't help but roll my eyes at Kudzai. "Hold on, Lys..." there was a pause and then some more rustling, followed by the jangle of metal keys. I waited patiently for her response as she opened the door.
"Hello?" I called out when I heard her start a conversation with the man (he had a deeper tone than a woman would). "Helloooo?"
"Yes, Lys, I'm still here." I breathed a sigh of relief at her words. "It's Lando."
"Lando?" I confusedly asked. "What's he doing there?"
"He was just checking up on you because you haven't answered your phone to anyone all day. I told him that you were in Bristol with a family issue," she paused, "I think he wants to talk to you. Should I hand you over?"
"Might as well."
"I'm switching it to FaceTime, alright?" I didn't get a chance to protest as by the time I had pulled the phone away from my ear, Lando's concerned face was filling up the screen.
I cleared my throat to hide any indication of my emotion and forced a smile. "Hey." I waved to the camera. His unmoving expression showed that he clearly wasn't buying it.
"Everyone's been so worried."
"I'm fine," I reassured. "As Kudz said - it's just a family issue." I had to blink to stop any tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Just thinking about my mother made me want to cry, especially when I could see Lando's face.
"I've had Max threatening to fly over if I couldn't find out where you were. Could you not have texted to tell people you were okay?"
"Sorry," I averted my gaze from his deep brown eyes. "It didn't cross my mind."
Lando sighed. "It's not your fault, Lys. Just next time remember before you go M.I.A."
"Of course."
"So has your issue been resolved?" At his words, I swallowed hard and bit down on my tongue to stop a cry escaping. I weakly shook my head, keeping my gaze on my other hand that was folded in my lap. "Anything I can help with?" Again, I shook my head.
I brought my trembling hand to my lip at the exact moment a fat tear rolled down one of my cheeks. "I promise I'll be fine."
"What happened?" The only response I could give him as I shielded my face with my hand was a shake of the head. My lungs felt like they were burning as I suppressed any sobs that threatened to shake my body. "Lys..."
"Oh, hun," it was Kudzai's voice that spoke. "You can tell him, you know? He isn't racing against you Sunday."
"I-I can't. You." I gave in, clamping my hand over my mouth as tears free-fell from my eyes. I could barely see my phone screen anymore and was only able to make out Lando's outline.
"Her mum passed away in September but we've only just found out." My heart felt like it was crumbling as I heard the raw pain in Kudzai's voice. "Lys is staying in Bristol tonight and then driving to Silverstone tomorrow to scatter her ashes."
"What about her flight?"
"She's missing it and catching one that'll get her to Abu Dhabi on Thursday instead," Kudzai explained.
"I'll cancel mine, too, and make sure she's okay."
"Lando, you... you don't have to," I managed to get out. "I'll be okay."
"No, I want to. I'm going to be there for you. I'll text Jen and say that I'm busy tomorrow so I can drive you and your sister. I highly doubt you'll be up for the journey. Have you booked your flight yet?"
I shook my head. "I was planning on doing that tomorrow. Also, Juliette drove to Bristol-"
"That's fine. I can drive to Bristol tonight, then to Silverstone tomorrow and then back. I'll check flights from Cardiff to save a journey back to London."
"Lando-"
"Nope! I'm doing this for you, Alyssa. I'll help Kudzai pack you bags, make sure she's okay, and then I'll set off. I should hopefully be there before Midnight."
I gave him a weak smile in an attempt to show my gratitude. Lando was so incredibly sweet and selfless. "Thank you."
"No need to thank me. I'll text you when I'm on my way so you can text the address, okay?"
Biting my lip, I nodded my head. "Okay."
"Alright. I'll talk to you later then, babe."
"I'll call you, too, Lys," Kudzai added, her blurry outline appearing in the corner of the screen. "Love you."
"I love you guys," I sniffled. "Bye."
"Goodbye, babe."
Was going to add the whole ash-scattering in this chapter but I'm already over 4000 words. Should I include it in the next chapter or just skip to Alyssa and Lando flying to Abu Dhabi?
No chapter this Sunday because I'm moving out (big adult energy right here). Sorry!
QOTC: Best year for music?
AOTC: 2012 was iconic for many reasons, especially the music. 2010 and 2013 were also really good. It's been downhill since then lmao.