Chapter 2.3

According to what was known, an F1 driver of that calibre could get a read on the terrain after just one lap of an F1 circuit with seven or eight left and right curves, understanding where the curves were and where the straights were, and from the second lap could test-drive in their own style, and from the third lap could drive naturally.

After experiencing as a child how even after driving more than fifty laps of a game circuit made to be identical to a real circuit from night until dawn, the next day sitting back down in front of the game console his mind would go blank and he couldn’t remember where the curves were or where the straights were, Dan had found it impossible to believe that people who had the profession of driver were the same species as him.

“The cleaning is fine, I can do that. I’m dying for a drink, I’m hungry.”

Dan talked on busily, wondering if he had a chatty side to him he hadn’t known about.

“All I do is run around after Chris Paul and I can’t even use the phone as I please.”

Mul and Shane told Dan to contact them whenever he wanted, as much as he liked.

“No but why do I have to have restrictions on the clothes I wear?”

Dan vented his frustrations and then looked at the clothes Mul and Shane were wearing, and the lips that had been moving stopped. Both of their clothes, just like his own, were team kit from the team Chris Paul belonged to.

When he had first arrived at the mansion he had thought to himself with a sneer that the two of them must like Chris Paul’s team so much they wore the team kit even in the off-season.

“Are you two Ferrari fans?”

At Dan’s question Mul and Shane shook their heads. Their bitter faces shook wordlessly several times.

“Not Ferrari fans, so then why?”

Mul and Shane made troubled faces at Dan’s words.

“Anyone can have a Ferrari in their heart, right?”

It was Shane who spoke first. His face looked ready to cry at any moment, and according to him Chris Paul’s garage had more than ten Ferraris in it, and hanging from the garage ceiling like a mobile was the test car he had gotten during his Ferrari test driver days.

But Shane had mentioned one day that he wanted to earn enough money later to get a Ferrari, or more precisely Shane had been seen collecting 1:16 scale models of Ferrari race cars, and Chris had asked whether he wanted a Ferrari, and Shane had said that when he could afford it someday he’d like to have at least a Ferrari even if a race car was out of the question, and that was when Chris had started putting him in team kit, he said.

“He’s telling you to drive the red out of your head?”

Dan asked with a devastated expression. Shane and Mul nodded at the same time.

“My dream was to work at Ferrari. I achieved that dream, I got into Ferrari and worked hard to become a racing team training coach.”

Mul murmured, flushing his cheeks pink. It was the voice of someone recalling a distant past, and a sigh followed every word he said.

“When Chris left Ferrari he said he wanted to keep working with me so I left too. If I had known Chris would avoid Ferrari this much I would have thought twice. Back then Chris showed no sign of discomfort about having fallen out with Ferrari at all. But… now he tells me to wash the red packed into my heart clean out.”

Mul spoke with the gloom of someone who had been tricked into a marriage under false pretences. Dan knew he ought to comfort him but couldn’t hold back the curiosity.

“What was the reason Chris Paul fell out with Ferrari?”

At his question it was Shane who asked back instead of Mul.

“You don’t know?”

Both their faces said how could anyone not know that.

“It’s because Ferrari wouldn’t give Chris Paul a seat…”

“That’s it.”

“Ferrari was in the wrong.”

Shane spoke in a tone that said why are you asking when you already know. Mul blamed Ferrari in a firm voice.

“Is that the only reason Chris Paul left Ferrari?”

Dan asked, sounding incredulous. Mul and Shane nodded, and both their faces said what bigger reason could there possibly be.

Ferrari was a great team through which countless F1 champions who would go down in history had passed.

Chris Paul had been setting records worthy of a legendary driver since leaving Ferrari, but at the time he was a rookie test driver. Anyone could see Ferrari had the upper hand. The relatively stronger party had more options than the relatively weaker party and couldn’t help having the advantage.

This wasn’t a power struggle between a team and some incredible driver who had lifted the champion’s trophy ten times, and Ferrari was not a team that would let a mere test driver pack his bags and walk out just because the team hadn’t given him a firm promise of a seat.

“Was Ferrari really that… wrong?”

Dan had assumed Ferrari had done something truly terrible to Chris Paul, like offering an unfair opportunity to someone else, or making him a sacrifice in an F1 power struggle and causing him some kind of damage, or involving him in something unjust, something along those lines.

Even if Ferrari had done such things, he still thought Chris Paul was in the wrong for leaving a team he had been with for three years without a single word.

“I know Chris Paul’s times when he was driving Ferrari’s test car were pretty good. Even accounting for the fact that it was a test car, there were some overwhelmingly good times. But there’s a difference between the times you put up in a test car and the times you put up in an actual race, isn’t there? Three years as a test driver isn’t even that long in F1.”

There were plenty of drivers who spent their whole careers as test drivers and nothing more.

Mul opened and closed his short stocky hands.

“I don’t know much about driving or race cars. A veteran driver from before the nineties once said something like this: ‘These days if you train a monkey properly it could become an F1 driver.’ It’s not strange that drivers from before the nineties would say that. Until McLaren developed the semi-automatic transmission (Semi-Automatic Transmission — gearbox in 1990, drivers used clutch shift and H-shift.)”

Dan listened quietly through the string of difficult words.

“Driving a modern race car isn’t easy either. There are around thirty buttons on the steering (Steering: the vehicle’s control device) and during a race you have to operate those devices at least once, and drivers make around ten thousand steering adjustments during a drive.”

Mul continued in the manner of a patient teacher.

“The force needed to adjust the steering while cornering is the same as the force needed to rotate two ten-kilogram dumbbells. The pressure on a driver’s neck during cornering is about three times their own body weight.”

These were facts widely known through articles and documentaries, but hearing them from an expert had a different quality to it.

“During a drive the driver’s heart rate becomes similar to that of an 800-metre middle-distance runner, and this state continues for the entire hour and a half of the race. In the middle of driving there are pit signs to read, about three lines, up to five if it’s long, and they read them in a fraction of a second. On top of that the temperature in the cockpit the driver sits in can rise to anywhere from 50°C to 70°C.”

Dan and Shane exchanged a knowing smile at Mul’s words, which carried a smile in them.

“Even so, what makes drivers from before the nineties seem more incredible is that amid similar difficulties, those drivers operated the gears themselves while driving. When adjusting the gears they had to take one hand off the steering, and while operating the gears they had to press the clutch with their foot.”

What followed required diagrams and video to illustrate.

“Modern drivers never take their hands off the steering and there’s no clutch under their feet. The transmission handles gear changes on its own and clutch operation on its own. The REV is matched by the machine automatically too, but drivers back then did all of this manually themselves.”

Dan and Shane nodded again in the knowing manner of people who had understood. They had barely understood one tenth of what Mul said but it didn’t matter.

“Compared to then, what exactly is it that drivers do nowadays, that’s what people are saying. There’s even talk of whether races are possible without drivers at all. Drivers still play a large role but people say there’s less of a distinguishing factor compared to before, and you know what they say then?”

Shane answered Mul’s long long words.

“The rare genius with the ability to win regardless of what car you give them.”

Mul nodded as if in agreement.

“Chris is that kind of person. [Read on RanaTranslations🌸] Chris would have wanted Ferrari to give him a seat, but Ferrari probably didn’t want to make a firm promise about a seat to a newcomer. Chris wanted a definitive answer. In that situation Ferrari dangled an ambiguous condition so Chris, losing patience, accepted Stewart team’s offer as it was.”

Dan knew quite a bit about Chris Paul but couldn’t sympathise with his feelings.

“Chris’s manager at the time had told him to stay because Ferrari would give him a spot before long, so he was completely left out when the contract with team Stewart was signed. He probably found out about Chris signing with Stewart at the same time as the fans did. Not just the manager, even Ferrari executives and Chris’s family only found out after the official announcement.”

A voice carrying entirely different emotions from when he had pointed out the unfair labour rang out.

“Even though multiple teams wanted Chris, Chris waited three years because he wanted Ferrari to give him a seat, but Ferrari was too cautious and wishy-washy about it and got caught off guard. And in the end, in his debut race the following year, Chris stood on the top step of the podium and showed what he was capable of, didn’t he?”

Mul’s face was full of pride in his driver.

Shane said with a grin:

“I remember when Chris was signing with Stewart.”

“You went along?”

“Yeah. Chris said to come along, keep my mouth shut and stand there. If anyone talked to me he said to speak informally back. Said my display effect was outstanding and I could pull it off. I actually did pull it off. Scowling, looking stern.”

“So it was you who went along for the signing.”

“Yeah, it was funny. The Stewart team head told Chris with a moved expression that they would give him great support, and Chris, heh, said he was pretty good with most cars so it was fine, they didn’t need to try so hard.”

At Shane’s lively words Mul said gravely:

“That guy really…”

“What did Chris say, what was he like?”

“It was the same when he first drove the Stewart race car.”

“Frowning hard and saying ‘I’ll do my best to make it work.'”

“He actually somehow made it work and came first though…”

Dan thought back to Chris Paul’s debut race. [Read on RanaTranslations🌸] The expression on his face as he stepped up to the podium was saying ‘you should have given me the seat.’

Considering the current state of things where performance differences between race cars had an enormous impact on results, that was understandable. His feelings toward Ferrari might well be ‘regret it, you old Tifosi.’

Mul spoke carefully to Dan, who had fallen into thought.

“By the way Dan, aren’t you going to eat the chocolate?”

“I can’t bring myself to eat it, it’s too precious.”

Dan answered, shaking off the image of Chris Paul’s confident face that had been circling his head.

“I’ll save it and eat it later.”

“Hide it well.”

“Chris’s nose is more developed than a dog’s.”

Mul urged him and Shane warned him with a worried face.

“Yes.”

Dan smiled and picked up the chocolate. He was about to put the chocolate into a perfectly airtight container when a long shadow fell over his face, just as he was about to say thank you for the food, come and keep me company when you have time, and please understand if I send strange messages when things are hard.

“Stop.”

Dan stopped moving abruptly at the low soft voice.

“…”

It was Chris Paul.

“I’m pretty sure I told you no drinking, no smoking, diet control?”

Sweet dark chocolate skin and mysterious green eyes came right up close in front of Dan’s face. The gently curved eyes and the elegant curve of lips whispering quiet words made it impossible to let his guard down.

He was receiving additional pay because of the no drinking, no smoking, and diet control. As if pressing him on it, Chris took the container of chocolate from Dan’s hand and sent him a piercing look.

“Ch— Chris.”

“What are you doing here when the physiotherapist already…”

Mul and Shane scrambled with faces as if they had seen a ghost.

“Finished early.”

“Then why come all the way here yourself instead of calling me?”

Chris cut into Mul’s words and answered.

“Anyway you two can go now.”

“Chris, d-don’t you want to go for a drive?”

“It’s raining outside.”

“Dublin rain stops quick enough.”

“It’s pouring.”

Shane’s friendly suggestion was turned down on the spot too.

“Go on now.”

“…we’ll be going then.”

“Yeah, we’ll…be going.”

Mul and Shane murmured with sulky faces.

“Still here?”

Chris said with his gaze fixed on Dan. Dan waved to Mul and Shane in the midst of the awkward situation of those green eyes staring fixedly at him. The things Mul and Shane had said about Chris Paul came back to him.

The rare genius who could win with any race car, the rookie who had said ‘I’ll do my best to make it work’ after getting into the team’s race car, the ability to lift the winner’s trophy in his debut race… what good is any of that? He’s a petty bastard who won’t even let his employee eat chocolate.

This grudge-holding king of petty. I refuse to eat it on principle!

Dan looked up at Chris with a sullen face. In the man’s hand was the airtight container with the chocolate in it.

His lips moved of their own accord.

“That.”

The large hand turned the delicate airtight container with the chocolate this way and that without care.

“This?”

“Yes, that. Are you going to eat it?”

“No.”

Chris’s hand lowered the airtight container with the chocolate. [Read on RanaTranslations🌸] Dan’s gaze shot downward. Noticing Dan’s eyes following it down, he moved the airtight container with the chocolate slightly.

Dan’s eyes followed the moving chocolate this way and that as he spoke.