WHAT?
"Lando what do you mean you've been locked up?! What is going on?!" I scream.
"Can you please just come to the police station! I can't tell you anything over the phone or they'll think I've asked you to say it." He sounds so defeated and stressed.
This is completely crazy, today's been eventful enough and now this?! What could he have possibly done to have been locked up?! I need to get to the police station NOW.
Running towards the Uber that I'd initially booked to take me to a hotel, I frantically ask if he can take me to the police station instead. Before even responding he just glares at me, launching out of his drivers seat scrambling around in the boot before I see him taking two bin bags out, carefully lining the back seats with them. As much as this was embarrassing it was also perfectly understandable given the complete state I was in. There was no way he was getting his seats muddy or wet.
"Please can you hurry and take me to the police station, please." Pleading with him to go faster. I don't even know what to expect here, I don't know what I'm walking into.
Not one part of me has the slightest idea why he could have been locked up and I think this is even worse than my usual go-to mode of overthinking. I have nothing? Nothing to overthink about because I have NO idea what could have happened.
16 minutes until I arrive, but it can't come soon enough. I feel every heart beat pound against the inside of my chest, the palms of my hands becoming clammy to the touch, a lump in my throat that doesn't seem to budge after every swallow.
I just hope he's ok, and whatever this is about, it must be a mistake. Or something so minor, would they really lock him up for speeding? That's the only incident I manage to contemplate as a possible reason for him being there, but surely that would only warrant a ticket?
We're here.
Large wooden doors, looking original to the old building the police station was housed inside, they looked like something you'd imagine would be used as castle gates, large iron handles - but the doors remained open, leading to a more modern automatic glass door on the inside.
I suddenly realise once I'm inside the doors that I have no idea what I'm doing? How does any of this work? Do I just ask for his name at the reception? Am I even going to be able to see him? Would they even give me any information? It's not as if I were family after all.
"Hi, hi excuse me... is it possible to find out what's going on with Lando Norris please? I've just received a phone call from him that he's here?" Stumbling across my words as I speak to the officer at the front desk.
"Take a seat please, P.C Atkinson will be with you shortly." He responds.
That's it? No information - nothing. Nothing other than a judgmental look up and down from the officer, I realise how I look right now but I feel far worse now after that interaction.
Am I not going to be taken seriously because I look like this right now? Should I go and buy clothes and tidy myself up? I probably should have done that before arriving here but no part of me even thought about that. My only concern was getting here.
It shouldn't matter anyway, I'm at a police station, supposedly where I'd come for help, not to feel judged and looked down upon. I'm beginning to get angry now as I sit here, anxiously picking my fingers waiting for this P.C to arrive and put me out of my misery.
At least fifteen minutes pass, "Miss...?" A voice asks, standing a few feet away from me - who I assume is P.C Atkinson.
"Walker, it's Lilly Walker." I reply. Feeling very much like we'd just had a James Bond introduction I try and pay it no mind as he guides me down a tight hallway into what must be an interview room.
It wasn't anything like what you see in police shows or movies, no glass double sided mirror window, no dark grey - I guess that would be more of an interrogation room. This room was tiny and pale yellow, with navy carpet and a small table inside - it very much reminded me of primary school carpet and the feeling of an old classroom.
As we sit down, he immediately begins to question me.
"Where were you on the 7th July?"
"I have no idea that was months ago, I'll have to check my calendar or messages and find out, who knows what they were doing on a specific day months ago? And can I ask why you're asking me this?" I reply.
"We need to know if you were with Mr Norris on this date."
What is going on?!
"Can I check?" Pulling my phone out of my pocket and signalling to him that I need to take a look.
"Of course go ahead."
I check my phone, am I stupid? The date he's asking about was the day I stayed with Lando in Surrey, the day I practically ran to his hotel to sleep with him. The day I was talking to him for most of the day while I was training at Rodin Carlin.
"Yes I was with him that day, we were both in Surrey and slept at the Hilton near Guildford."
"And you were with him the whole day?"
Why am I so panicked? If I say no which is the truth, is this going to get Lando in trouble that he doesn't need to be in? If I say yes am I messing things up by lying for him?! I don't know what to do here.
"I wasn't with him early on the morning but I was with him the rest of the day and night until the following morning."
"We're you with him at 4pm on the 7th of July?"
"Yes I was." I bluntly respond.
"And where were you both at this time?" I'm now getting so nervous, I have no idea why I just said yes to being with him when I was at my hotel alone at this point.
"We were just out driving in his car, the countryside is lovely around there." I say.
"Ok, did any incident occur while you and Mr Norris we're driving in his car?" He says, goading me.
"No, nothing at all, what is this about?" Now getting frustrated at the lack of information he was giving me.
"Ok thank you can you put that in writing for me please. We have a witness account reporting Mr Norris's car as the cause of a hit and run incident close to the McLaren technology centre in which a woman was hit and left injured at the side of the road. She suffered some severe injuries including multiple broken bones. She's now almost fully recovered but the incident could have been much worse and this is severe given the person who caused this accident fled the scene." He says, holding eye contact with me to gage my reaction.
What. The fuck.
No. Surely not, Lando wouldn't do that. I feel the colour drain from my face. He wouldn't do that.
"Lando would never do that, he's a formula 1 driver, firstly his reaction time is incredible and he would put himself off the road before he hit anyone else, he cares about people's safety. I was with him and that absolutely didn't happen but I can guarantee if he ever did hit anyone while he was behind the wheel, he would immediately stop and get them help." I say with confidence. I didn't even feel bad about lying anymore and saying I was with him, because this is never something he would do. Never.
I sign the statement and leave the interview room, sitting back opposite the judgemental officer at the front desk while thoughts continue to spin around in my head. I need to see Lando.
All I can think about now is messaging him and knowing something was wrong with him that night, I remember asking him what was wrong, and him saying he just had 'a lot going on at the moment' and then saying he would be 'ok it wasn't serious'. I'm now analysing our conversation from that night in such pinpoint detail that I've opened myself back up to overthinking - about everything.
What if he did do this? And I've just lied for him?
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YOU ARE READING
DNS 2
Fanfiction*MUST READ BOOK 1 FIRST* Book 2 of DNS, as we follow Lilly's journey throughout the next year of her life she must face tough decisions. Hurt, loss, betrayal and love. Will anything end up how she thought - or hoped it would?
