Page 9 of Jump Start

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After another few hours of laps and further testing, it was time to head back to the Echidna headquarters. I was gathering my belongings when Chris came over to me.

“Harper, hope you enjoyed your hot lap. Can take a bit getting used to,” he explained while adjusting his headset off an ear to hear me better.

“Thank you so much for that. It was very exciting!”

He nodded with a smile. “Look, I’m going to be held up here for a while, so I can’t give you a lift back, and the other guys have left. Would you like to stay a while?” he asked, looking around the garage.

“She can come with me,” Thomas replied, appearing out of nowhere.

“Great! Thanks, Jacko. See you tomorrow, Harper!” He returned to the engineering booth to review the results of the day. I wondered how much later he would be here. His job seemingly never ended.

The thought of being stuck in Sydney traffic alone with Thomas made me feel both nervous and curious. I wanted to pick his brain but felt awkward about prying into his personallife. I waited on a sponsor-branded stool for Thomas to return from getting changed, mindlessly scrolling through my phone when he appeared in front of me. I smiled up at him and jumped off the stool. Thomas motioned for me to follow him to his car, which was a very large dual-cab four-wheel drive ute. I had to use the side step to get in.

I sat in silence, not knowing where to direct my gaze, and waited for him to put his bags on the back seat. The door shut with a loud bang, making me jump a little. I was definitely nervous.

“Right, let’s go,” he said, starting the car. His Bluetooth connected and started to play heavy metal at the absolute maximum volume. I giggled and looked over at him while he casually turned the music to a quieter volume.

“Let me guess, you don’t like metal.” His comment cut the awkward tension.

“Can’t say that I do.” Without looking, I knew he would be rolling his eyes.

We turned out of the motorsport precinct, with Thomas’s music doing nothing to help my anxiety. I went to speak but couldn’t think of a single thing to say to this man. Sensing the quietness in the car, he spoke first. “So, have fun today then.”

Somehow, he was able to make all of his questions sound like statements.

I nodded. “Yeah, it was great. I’ve got plenty of bits for my piece. Thank you for that hot lap.”

“You can cut the crap,” he said with an accusing tone. I looked over at him, confused.

“Excuse me?”

His head dipped below the sun visor as he indicated to mergeonto the motorway.

“This isn’t an interview. You can turn it off, Harper,” he said, coldly, using my name as a threat. I took a moment before I spoke, not wanting to sound shrill.

“What is your problem with me, Thomas? Is it the fact that I’m a journalist? You’ve made it clear that you can’t stand the profession.”

The song ended and he hit pause on the music.

“I just want you to talk normally. I’d like to meet the real Harper, not the Channel 6 newsreader persona.”

My blood boiled. I crossed my arms and looked directly out the front windscreen. In my head, I calculated exactly how many hours I would have left with this man. I thought maybe we’d turned a corner over the last few days, but I was wrong. Suddenly, I felt a well of emotion bubble up inside me, so I turned my focus to the passenger window. I’d never met someone with such a visceral reaction to both me and my profession, which was something I took a lot of pride in. Journalism had been my dream for as long as I could remember.

“You know, I don’t criticise your choice of profession. I would think you could show me some respect.” My voice cracked and a tear breached the banks of my eye. I quickly wiped it away, but I was too late.

Suddenly, the car slowed down and pulled into a stop zone on the side of the road. Thomas turned the car off and took his seatbelt off to turn in my direction. I faced away from him, looking out the window and the now stationary trees.

“Harper,” his voice softened. “Please, look at me.”

I finally swivelled my head in his direction, hoping my mascara wasn’t betraying me and running down my face. Hereached his hand out to touch my face but stopped himself.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been an asshole. I never meant to upset you.” His apology was sincere, but his reasoning was still piggish.

“Then why even do it in the first place?” I was still mad.

He took a moment and hung his head for a second.

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