The Fight • Max Verstappen•

•ninety-five•

MAX

I shuddered as I awoke to the loud voice of Beau screaming over the pancakes that I assume had just been delivered to the London apartment we were staying in.

Moments later she bundled into my room, the scent of the pancakes filling the room. "C'mon sleepy head, tea or coffee?" She enthused. I replied that I would have coffee.

After returning from the Ardennes,  Beau had suggested that we settle in London as it was her favourite city after Venice. I knew exactly what she wanted to achieve, but I wasn't sure if I was ready for that. Everything had happened so fast and whilst it was mentally a blur, emotionally is was the complete opposite.

I had almost been stonewalled from the rest of the drivers for the incident at Silverstone. I wasn't quite sure why this incident had been any different from any previous crashes, but I could only put it down to the nature of the crash and how much she was loved on the grid.

Finally, over two weeks after the initial incident Daniel had reached out to let me know that was home and recovering. He had been scarily absent from my life in those weeks, but it all made sense when I read his post-race comments. My teammate had made it crystal clear in the interview with Canal+ that I was over the line and that my driving style bordered on the aggressive.

I sat down at the small dining table and Beau brought over the stack of pancakes. "Thank-You. I haven't had pancakes in, forever." I chuckled. They were one of my childhood favourite foods but as a driver, I was usually on a strict diet plan that unfortunately did not include pancakes.

Beau brought hers over and sat down opposite me. "How are you today?" She asked gently. "I think you need to talk about what happened. I don't want you to bottle it up inside as you've done before."

I wasn't very good with emotions. It sounds redundant and likes an excuse, but it wasn't. I either felt too much or nothing at all. I had struggled with this my whole life, the only exception was the one summer camp where everything seemed crystal clear.

I sighed whilst taking a bite of pancake. "I'm ok, I will see her tomorrow," I told Beau who immediately jolted in her seat. "She invited me, I have ordered a bouquet of daisies to take."

***

SILVERSTONE GP 2022

There was a great moment of numbness when I watched her car spin through the gravel and crash into the railing. It happened so fast, but I recalled every moment of it. The race was red-flagged within seconds. The cars filtered back into the pit lane and crawled to the garages. You could feel the tension and uncertainty in the air.

I got out of the car, pulled my helmet and fire guard off.  "This wasn't my fault." I screamed turning to Christian who was waiting in my side of the garage." He couldn't even look at me. His beady eyes darted to the floor. "Tell me she is alright?" My voice broke.

Suddenly you could hear the sirens of the ambulances. I peered outside of the garage. There was smoke and a lot of it. The type of smoke was only there when the fire was present. I knew I had given enough space, but what if I hadn't.

Straight away I escaped to my room pushing past Christian who was now on the phone to the Race Director. "Do we have an ETA for race restarting?" I heard him ask.

I sat down on the floor and leant my back against the closed door. Almost immediately I flicked the TV on which was showing the race live. 'SCARLET CRUSOE IS OUT OF THE GP' was flashing across the banner at the bottom. It flipped to the live scene of the crash. I couldn't see what was happening as the Marshalls were holding sheets up around the incident – usually, they reserved this for when it was bad.