Ice cold - Back to F1

04

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Emma's POV:
I don't quite understand where I had seen this young man before... Maybe from a magazine cover? Usually my brain remembers people's faces but obviously it was malfunctioning... Probably because it's so early in the morning.

The flight was not awful, I spent most of my time looking out the window contemplating my life's choices. Feeling the anxiety creeping up on me I took a couple of deep breaths, and listened to some calming music to settle down my heartbeat and my brain. Just as 'Bitter Sweet Symphony' from the Verve started playing the air hostess offered me a cup of tea. It was difficult not to accept, I needed the warmth. It was soothing.

It's 08:30 when the captain finally lands the plan at Heathrow Airport. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. It hadn't really gotten any better after the tea and the music. Moments later the plane pulls into the gate.

I unbuckle myself and get out of my seat. I open the overhead compartment and pull out my black leather bag, being careful not to drop any of the other bags and suitcases around it. I pull the bag over my head and let the saddle fall onto my left shoulder. Surprisingly, there were very few passengers on this flight, so disembarking was really easy. Pulling my phone out of my pocket I open my emails, 1 unread message from McLaren, the message contains directions to the HQ in Woking. I get out of the plane and walk up the gangway. I went through customs and found myself in the center of the airport, crowded with passengers, families going on ski holidays, couples and lots of business people.

I'd go so far as to say that I found it very disorientating. I looked up to read the signs, the one on the far left said "Taxis" and after a good ten minutes I finally found my way to the exit. I took a taxi and gave it directions. The lady was very nice and did a bit of small-talk during the half-hour journey.

She parked the car beside the road, "Miss, I have to stop the journey here, as the street is private. I'm very sorry." she said, turning to look me in the eye. "Don't worry, thank you very much, and have a nice day," I reply with a smile, handing her two twenty pound notes.

As I got out of the car, the fresh country air hit me hard, so I pulled on my brown leather bomber jacket and headed across the road. Walking along the little footbridge to the main entrance, I take in the surroundings. The building is truly incredible, the sun shining in an almost golden light, the rays hitting the windows illuminating the building giving it an almost angelic appearance.

The butterflies returned and I had to pull myself together, I took a few breaths. Then, taking a few confident steps towards reception, I was greeted by two smiling young women. "Hello there! How can I help you?" one of them asked, I met her eyes and smiled. "Yes, then I'm here for the apprentices' meeting..." I begin, stammering, "Oh yes, I should have known! You're Emma Juuls, aren't you? Come with me!" she said as she stood up.

"Welcome to McLaren HQ, I'm Rachel Hipston, I'm in charge for the day so, if you have any questions don't hesitate to ask me." Rachel looks really good, wearing a black cable knit sweater with a blue maxi skirt, and black sling-back heels. On top of all that, her beautiful brown hair is wrapped up in curls. We walk side by side, I look around, the building is huge, on the ground floor after the reception area are all the cars, from the 80s and 90s, with all the trophies and medals neatly laid out in a long 20 meter display case.

She explains the number of floors and the different departments. In the basement is the factory, where the magic is made," she says with a smile. I return the favor. "Aren't you going to speak?" she says with a questioning look. "Yes, sorry! I still can't believe I'm here. It's been a while since the last time," I reply with a sheepish smile. She remains silent, but her face betrays her she wants to ask me the question. Rachel breaks the silence. "It's been? Have you been here before?" - "Yes, it's a long story, but it was a few years ago," I reply, a little distracted. My attention was on the MP4-19, last year's car.