Leather and Speed - Part Four
Title: Leather and Speed - Part Four
Author: Tittamiire
Fandom: SG1
Rating: PG13
Word Count: Total about 17,400
Categories: AU, First Time.
Summary: In this alternate universe SG1 are a sidecar racing team at the TT (Tourist Trophy) races on the Isle of Man. Janet, a Doctor there with St John, meets Sam for the first time when things don't quite go as planned.
Author note 1: I challenged myself to write Sam and Janet with sidecars on the Isle of Man for this ficathon. It was quite tricky and involved changing some nationalities to get it to work in universe. I hope it isn't too OOC for people.
Author note 2: It's rushed, which I apologise for. Life snuck up on me. I beg humbly for apologies and I will get it properly finished, betad and uploaded after the ficathon.
Wednesday looked like a lovely racing day. The sky was cloudy, but it was clear around the track, the tarmac was dry and the wind was low. There was a delay to closing the roads because of a road traffic collision up on the mountain road, but it was only half an hour and before too long they were closed and they were ready to go. The delay in closing the roads translated into a delay for the start of the race, but they were out sitting in the sunshine, it couldn't be bad.
The race mostly went without incident. Someone came off at the Creg, the message came over Janet's radio just as she spotted the Airmed overhead, but they were described as having arm and leg injuries and not serious. She relaxed slightly at that.
She'd stood up to watch lap three because she could and stood against the bales with some of the marshals watching the bikes into and out of the corner.
The big numbers had all gone through without incident, well, there were a few who liked to brake aggressively or take eccentric lines round the corner that made the marshals twitch, but they all made it. Now they were down into those who were racing largely against themselves, or for personal (and almost always good natured) rivalries.
It was number 69. Janet remembered because she'd allowed herself a juvenile inward snicker at the number. The rider braked aggressively, too aggressively and the bike began to fishtail. The was a surge of noise from the spectators and the marshals as they hung on, hoping that he would save it. It escalated into a proper tank slapper as the biker attempted to turn. He looked like he'd given up on the corner as was only aiming for the run off, but the move was too much and with a flick of the rear end of the bike the rider was off an skidding up the road. He smacked into the bales on the outside of the corner. His bike continued on and impacted the bales further round. It took all of Janet's strength to wait long enough for the bike to come to a halt and to check that the yellow flag was out before she was sprinting up the road to the rider.
Her world shrank to a small bubble containing the injured number 69 and the people she needed to help him. As she reached him the next couple of bikes came round the corner, waved slow and onto the inside by a frantic flag marshal, they were too close to them and going too fast, but they had to get the injured rider out of the way.
He was facedown beneath the first row of bales, which they cleared and passed back for Biggles and Phil to put down between them and the next set of bikes coming round. Janet scrambled towards his head, calling for a response and shaking his shoulder. There was none, but when she peered down she could see his breath fogging against his visor. It was good enough for now.
'We need to get him over onto his back,' she instructed her team. She took the head position, lying down in the road and crossing her arms before she took hold of the riders neck and helmet. Her team got into position and on her word they gently, but quickly lifted and rolled the rider onto his back, Janet moving his head and neck at the same time and keeping them all in line. She looked him over as they moved him. The arm and leg that had hit the bales first both appeared to be broken, but those were the only visual clues. Once he was lying on his back she nodded to Matt, 'Help me get his helmet off. Sharon I'll need the collar. Gary, stand by to straighten that leg when I've got the collar on,' she called, needing to shout over the noise of some more racers going past.
Matt scooted up to lie on the tarmac and slide his hand underneath the riders neck to take the weight of his head and support it while Janet unfastened his helmet and carefully slid it up and off. She then took hold of his head again, sitting up while Sharon quickly measured the collar size, adjusted it, slid it on and fastened it. By now Phil had the scoop stretcher lined up next to him and they were nearly ready to go. She nodded to Gary, who had the unpleasant task of straightening the man's broken leg, but they couldn't get him on the stretcher or in the helicopter with it at the angle it was at.
His eyes moved, sluggishly, but they half opened and she could see his eyes moving when Gary straightened his leg.
'Hi,' Janet said brightly, looking down at him. 'Stay very still for us. We're taking care of you.'
His lips moved as if he was mumbling something, but he didn't make any sound.
'You've come off your bike during the TT races. That's all. We're going to get you onto the stretcher,' she went on in a reassuring tone, unsure how conscious he was.
'Right, everyone get hold for the log roll,' she instructed her team in a completely different tone. 'Got hold? Ready, steady, roll.'
They rolled as one and Phil slid the scoop stretcher under their casualty. There was another call of ready, steady, roll and they rolled him and the stretcher back down to the ground. Matt and Sharon fastened the two straps around their casualty, pulling them tight and tucking the broken arm up onto the man's chest.
They grabbed another marshal and, on Janet's call again, lifted the stretcher as one. Janet stayed at the neck, keeping it immobilised and directing her team off the track and down to the helicopter landing spot. They passed the flag marshal, who was still waving energetically as the remains of the bike and crash were taken off the track.
They loaded the rider into the helicopter, just as they had with Sam, handed over his helmet and watched it take off.
Janet headed back to the corner with the sounds of the motor ringing in her ears. The marshals were still cleaning up from the crash. The bales were being righted, cement powder scattered onto the line of oil and fuel and bits of broken motorbike were being kicked or carried to where they wouldn't be in the way. The leaders were coming round for their final lap. It'd taken them just over ten minutes to get the rider into the helicopter. She rubbed a hand over her face and gave herself ten quiet seconds before she sent Gary to make sure the immediate care case was still intact and get it back where it should be, Sharon to fetch the spare scoop stretcher from the back of the ambulance and Matt to get cups of tea for everyone.
It had all taken less than ten minutes.
She checked the program for the name of the rider. He was an Aussie and she recognised the name enough to know he lived in Britain now and had been a TT regular for years.
'Hey, Medic!' Someone called and Janet looked round, glancing at the track and aware that they might be needed again, but also looking for the source. There was a small group of people over by the roads closed rope. Janet moved towards them.
'He going to be alright?' one of them asked.
'I couldn't tell you.' Janet said. 'You'll hear over the main radio when something is released.' She turned to move away from them.
'But what was he like now? Was he talking? Conscious? Bleeding? when you loaded him into the helicopter.' He persisted.
'I can't tell you.' Janet said, holding up her hands slightly defensively. 'I really can't. You'll have to wait.'
'What if we know him?'
'I still can't tell you. You'll have to wait for an official report.'
The man gave a disgusted sigh. Janet left him to it and returned to watching the rest of the race. It was difficult to quantify the atmosphere after an incident. They were all quieter than usual, much quieter and on edge. They didn't talk about what had just happened, they never did as a group except for the odd quietly muttered conversation, they might talk about things one on one and Janet knew that Matt would, in time, talk to her, but now they had a job to do still.
Later, while the winners were being announced, the commentator interrupted the broadcast to announce the official statement from Nobles Hospital that Kiwi rider Mitchell was currently receiving treatment, but that was all. Janet could feel the atmosphere tense slightly. Vague was bad.
Word came over her radio about fifteen minutes later, while the national anthems were playing for the winners of the 600 race that Number 69, Mitchell had head and internal injuries. She reported it quietly to her team and to the marshals, knowing that it wouldn't go beyond them.
The second race of the day, the Superstock, passed without incident where they were. The Airmed passed over head again, but the reports that came through on her radio were that the rider had minor injuries. One rider retired at their corner with a clutch problem and that was it.
The roads open car passed them with barely a comment from them. A dark cloud hung over them and the lack of update on Mithcell's condition was concerning. Nobles and Race Control were both good at getting news out to reassure people. No news was almost always bad news.
Janet's phone rang as she and Matt got back to the camp site. It was Sam, her voice full of concern as she was inviting Janet and Matt out to dinner that night if they didn't have any other plans. Janet persuaded Matt that drinking too much Bushey's and eating baked beans on toast didn't count as a plan and bundled him back onto her bike.
Sam hugged her too tightly when they got to the restaurant and while they discussed the races of the day in great detail none of them mentioned the elephant in the room that was the crash. They ordered and ate and discussed bikes, politics, food, eating out, bikes, cars, bikes and Sam sat with her leg pressed against Janet's and her hand on her knee between courses.
Word crept round the restaurant as they were eating their main course (and listening to Matt and Daniel good naturedly argue about religion this time) that Manx radio had just announced that Mitchell had succumbed to his injuries and is family had been informed.
The table went quiet and Janet cut up her spaghetti very precisely. She saw Mitchell's face, eyes half open and nearly awake, so close to awake, she saw his breath fogging the visor and she saw him tumbling up the road like a rag doll. She saw a crash two years before, also fatal, she saw another crash that nearly was and then she saw Sam and Jack's sidecar tipping up on it's edge and clipping the outside of the corner.
Her phone rang, suddenly loud and shrill at the quiet table. She checked the screen and excused herself, saying that it was her daughter. She'd forgotten that she'd agreed to talk to Cassie that evening. She wandered around the corner from the restaurant with the phone, listening to Cassie recount all the events of the last couple of days and responding appropriately. She soothed her over a perceived slight from a friend, reinforced that yes she really did have to go to bed when her Dad said she did, answered a homework question and slowly felt a weight lift from her shoulders.
She heard the footsteps approach as she sat on the sea wall and held up a 'one minute' finger to Matt when he got close. Matt turned out to be Sam, who sat down on the wall next to her.
'You okay?' She asked when Janet hung up.
'Yeah, that was my daughter Cassie. I'd forgotten that she was going to call this evening, but the timing was perfect. She's good for my soul.'
'Good,' Sam said, putting her hand over Janet's on the concrete wall and squeezing her fingers gently.
'I was expecting Matt,' Janet confessed, 'but you're a nice surprise.'
'He told me to go after you. He said he'd normally go check you were okay, but since I was looking so worried and we were so busy working our way into each others knickers anyway I should go. He suggested I distract you with my boobs.'
Janet coughed in embarrassment.
'Yup and in front of my Dad too, which I pointed out. I think he was trying to hide under the condiments when I left.'
Janet laughed gently. She put her head on Sam's shoulder and felt her arm go round her.
'Rough day,' Sam said quietly.
Janet nodded against her shoulder.
'And it never gets any easier. You just get better at dealing with it, which is terrifying in it's own way.'
Janet squeezed her knee. 'I'd forgotten, that you were in the military as well as a rider.'
They sat for a while, watching the moored boats bob gently and knock against each other.
'So, daughter?' Sam said in a conversational tone.
'Yeah, hadn't mentioned that yet had I?' Janet said awkwardly.
'Nope.'
'She's called Cassandra and she's twelve going on thirty. Yes, I was a young mum. No, she wasn't planned. No, I'm not still with her Father, but we've remained civil since the divorce and she's staying with him at the moment. She also loves bikes so tends to ring at the end of each race day.'
'Okay,' Sam said, sounding like she was absorbing the information and filing it away. 'Divorce?' She asked.
Janet coughed a half laugh and rolled her eyes. 'Everyone makes foolish decisions in their youth. He's a good guy, but that was the problem.'
'You like women,' Sam nodded.
'Oh yeah I like women,' Janet said emphatically.
Sam didn't move. They sat in silence for a few moments.
'Have I scared you off?' Asked Janet.
'By having a kid? God no.' Sam said, giving her a squeeze. 'Unless I should be scared. Is she a monster? Is she completely out of control? Does she automatically hate anyone her Mum brings home? Is she into horrendous boy bands?'
Janet chuckled, 'None of the above. Well, some days she's a monster, but mostly she's great. As for the music her Dad and I are taking great care to instil discerning taste into her.'
'Pre-emptive strike huh?'
'Yup.'
They sat still for a few more moment and then Janet sat up and kissed Sam softly. 'Thank you for coming after me. It helped.'
'And I didn't even have to use my boobs,' Sam said, keeping her arm around Janet's waist.
'Your Dad will be pleased.'
Sam put her spare hand under Janet's chin and tilted it up so that she could kiss Janet. The kiss deepened for a second and Janet's hand went to Sam's shoulder and held on. Sam pulled back. She gave a half laugh and rested her forehead against Janet's. 'We need to get a room,' she said wryly.
There was a meaningful cough from behind them. They looked and Daniel was doing his best impression of an innocent bystander a short distance away.
'Um, we're just settling the bill,' he said when they were both looking at him. 'And then Matt has suggested going to visit Laxey Wheel.'
Janet frowned, 'but it'll be closed.'
'That's what he said, but he followed it with "and therefore we can hop the fence and get in for free." Jack jumped at the chance funnily enough. I'm sure he's of Scottish descent rather than Irish.'
Janet got up from the sea wall, dusting her trousers down with her hands. 'It's not that unlikely that he could be both,' Janet said.
'T was excited until he realised that we wouldn't have to sneak past anyone and did, literally, just have to hop over the fence, but he's still coming. Your Dad says he might stay in the car and leave the breaking and entering to the youngsters.
'No breaking,' Janet said defensively. 'Just entering. That's no where near as bad.'
Sam took hold of her hand as they moved back to the restaurant. 'Well, Dad's lived here for the last twelve years and he grew up here so I am pretty sure he's been up the wheel enough times already not to need to hop the fence outside hours,' she said.
'Guess you'll have been to it before then' Janet said.
'Actually no.'
'You've had over a decade of visiting your Dad on the island and you never got round to visiting the Laxey wheel? There is that much to do on this lump of rock.'
'Ah, no decade of visiting my Dad. Visiting, or well, even just talking to my Dad is a relatively new thing.'
Janet looked at her. 'Oh,' she said quietly.
Sam shrugged, 'Things are better now. Oddly, racing has helped that hugely. Clearly all that was needed was mortal danger to one of us. Who knew?'
Janet squeezed her hand.
The wheel was deserted as predicted. Janet climbed ungracefully over the gate, only stumbling slightly, but enough for Sam to step in chivalrously and catch hold of her shoulder to steady her. Jack complained about his knees and the others ignored him and Matt recited the history of the Laxey wheel loudly until Jack told him to shut up. T climbed the wheel ahead of the rest of them and was standing looking out when Janet reached the top slightly ahead of Sam and Matt.
'It's impressive,' she said to him, feeling slightly nervous around the man who'd hardly said anything to her.
'It is an admirable piece of engineering,' he said, 'especially within the context of when it was built.'
'Careful T. You might get a reputation for verbosity,' Sam said as she reached the top. He gave her an amused look and then turned to the view again.
'He has a point,' Janet said.
Sam headed straight for the rail and looked down over it.
'I mean. Sixties buildings are falling down now and this was built in the mid nineteenth century and is still solid.'
'Eighteen fifty four,' T said as Matt arrived at the top of the stairs slightly breathless.
'Eighteen fifty four,' Janet repeated, gesturing to T.
'It's very impressive,' Sam agreed.
They looked over the edge and waved at Jack and Jacob, who'd both declined to climb the wheel. T looked out for a few moments longer and then headed back down.
'Is he always so quiet and well, stoic?' Janet asked in a whisper once T was done. 'I trust that you guys trust him implicitly, but he is slightly intimidating.'
'He is always like that,' Sam said. 'It takes a while to get to know T, but he's a solid bloke I assure you, well, sometimes we joke that he's from another planet, but generally we accept that he's human.'
Janet grinned and looked down at the view while Sam stood at her back again as a wing break. The light started to drop and before too long they retreated back to ground level before they were in danger of not being able to see the narrow, steep and old steps.
They said goodnight at the bottom of the wheel. Janet kissed Sam briefly, aware of her Dad still sitting in the car.
'We're going for a rideout at lunchtime tomorrow. Meeting in St Ninian's car park at eleven if you want to come? I'll find a ride for Matt and anyone else who wants to come so you can ride with me if you bring a helmet,' Janet suggested quickly wondering how busy Sam was going to be the day before a race again and if she'd want to go on a ride out.
'Sounds lovely, I'll see you there,' Sam said quickly.
She and Matt rode back to the campsite. It was late and it had been an exhausting day. Janet, after a day like that, would normally have joined the rest of the site anyway for a drink and the therapy of company, but tonight she retreated to her tent, missing Sam.
Part Five
Author: Tittamiire
Fandom: SG1
Rating: PG13
Word Count: Total about 17,400
Categories: AU, First Time.
Summary: In this alternate universe SG1 are a sidecar racing team at the TT (Tourist Trophy) races on the Isle of Man. Janet, a Doctor there with St John, meets Sam for the first time when things don't quite go as planned.
Author note 1: I challenged myself to write Sam and Janet with sidecars on the Isle of Man for this ficathon. It was quite tricky and involved changing some nationalities to get it to work in universe. I hope it isn't too OOC for people.
Author note 2: It's rushed, which I apologise for. Life snuck up on me. I beg humbly for apologies and I will get it properly finished, betad and uploaded after the ficathon.
Wednesday looked like a lovely racing day. The sky was cloudy, but it was clear around the track, the tarmac was dry and the wind was low. There was a delay to closing the roads because of a road traffic collision up on the mountain road, but it was only half an hour and before too long they were closed and they were ready to go. The delay in closing the roads translated into a delay for the start of the race, but they were out sitting in the sunshine, it couldn't be bad.
The race mostly went without incident. Someone came off at the Creg, the message came over Janet's radio just as she spotted the Airmed overhead, but they were described as having arm and leg injuries and not serious. She relaxed slightly at that.
She'd stood up to watch lap three because she could and stood against the bales with some of the marshals watching the bikes into and out of the corner.
The big numbers had all gone through without incident, well, there were a few who liked to brake aggressively or take eccentric lines round the corner that made the marshals twitch, but they all made it. Now they were down into those who were racing largely against themselves, or for personal (and almost always good natured) rivalries.
It was number 69. Janet remembered because she'd allowed herself a juvenile inward snicker at the number. The rider braked aggressively, too aggressively and the bike began to fishtail. The was a surge of noise from the spectators and the marshals as they hung on, hoping that he would save it. It escalated into a proper tank slapper as the biker attempted to turn. He looked like he'd given up on the corner as was only aiming for the run off, but the move was too much and with a flick of the rear end of the bike the rider was off an skidding up the road. He smacked into the bales on the outside of the corner. His bike continued on and impacted the bales further round. It took all of Janet's strength to wait long enough for the bike to come to a halt and to check that the yellow flag was out before she was sprinting up the road to the rider.
Her world shrank to a small bubble containing the injured number 69 and the people she needed to help him. As she reached him the next couple of bikes came round the corner, waved slow and onto the inside by a frantic flag marshal, they were too close to them and going too fast, but they had to get the injured rider out of the way.
He was facedown beneath the first row of bales, which they cleared and passed back for Biggles and Phil to put down between them and the next set of bikes coming round. Janet scrambled towards his head, calling for a response and shaking his shoulder. There was none, but when she peered down she could see his breath fogging against his visor. It was good enough for now.
'We need to get him over onto his back,' she instructed her team. She took the head position, lying down in the road and crossing her arms before she took hold of the riders neck and helmet. Her team got into position and on her word they gently, but quickly lifted and rolled the rider onto his back, Janet moving his head and neck at the same time and keeping them all in line. She looked him over as they moved him. The arm and leg that had hit the bales first both appeared to be broken, but those were the only visual clues. Once he was lying on his back she nodded to Matt, 'Help me get his helmet off. Sharon I'll need the collar. Gary, stand by to straighten that leg when I've got the collar on,' she called, needing to shout over the noise of some more racers going past.
Matt scooted up to lie on the tarmac and slide his hand underneath the riders neck to take the weight of his head and support it while Janet unfastened his helmet and carefully slid it up and off. She then took hold of his head again, sitting up while Sharon quickly measured the collar size, adjusted it, slid it on and fastened it. By now Phil had the scoop stretcher lined up next to him and they were nearly ready to go. She nodded to Gary, who had the unpleasant task of straightening the man's broken leg, but they couldn't get him on the stretcher or in the helicopter with it at the angle it was at.
His eyes moved, sluggishly, but they half opened and she could see his eyes moving when Gary straightened his leg.
'Hi,' Janet said brightly, looking down at him. 'Stay very still for us. We're taking care of you.'
His lips moved as if he was mumbling something, but he didn't make any sound.
'You've come off your bike during the TT races. That's all. We're going to get you onto the stretcher,' she went on in a reassuring tone, unsure how conscious he was.
'Right, everyone get hold for the log roll,' she instructed her team in a completely different tone. 'Got hold? Ready, steady, roll.'
They rolled as one and Phil slid the scoop stretcher under their casualty. There was another call of ready, steady, roll and they rolled him and the stretcher back down to the ground. Matt and Sharon fastened the two straps around their casualty, pulling them tight and tucking the broken arm up onto the man's chest.
They grabbed another marshal and, on Janet's call again, lifted the stretcher as one. Janet stayed at the neck, keeping it immobilised and directing her team off the track and down to the helicopter landing spot. They passed the flag marshal, who was still waving energetically as the remains of the bike and crash were taken off the track.
They loaded the rider into the helicopter, just as they had with Sam, handed over his helmet and watched it take off.
Janet headed back to the corner with the sounds of the motor ringing in her ears. The marshals were still cleaning up from the crash. The bales were being righted, cement powder scattered onto the line of oil and fuel and bits of broken motorbike were being kicked or carried to where they wouldn't be in the way. The leaders were coming round for their final lap. It'd taken them just over ten minutes to get the rider into the helicopter. She rubbed a hand over her face and gave herself ten quiet seconds before she sent Gary to make sure the immediate care case was still intact and get it back where it should be, Sharon to fetch the spare scoop stretcher from the back of the ambulance and Matt to get cups of tea for everyone.
It had all taken less than ten minutes.
She checked the program for the name of the rider. He was an Aussie and she recognised the name enough to know he lived in Britain now and had been a TT regular for years.
'Hey, Medic!' Someone called and Janet looked round, glancing at the track and aware that they might be needed again, but also looking for the source. There was a small group of people over by the roads closed rope. Janet moved towards them.
'He going to be alright?' one of them asked.
'I couldn't tell you.' Janet said. 'You'll hear over the main radio when something is released.' She turned to move away from them.
'But what was he like now? Was he talking? Conscious? Bleeding? when you loaded him into the helicopter.' He persisted.
'I can't tell you.' Janet said, holding up her hands slightly defensively. 'I really can't. You'll have to wait.'
'What if we know him?'
'I still can't tell you. You'll have to wait for an official report.'
The man gave a disgusted sigh. Janet left him to it and returned to watching the rest of the race. It was difficult to quantify the atmosphere after an incident. They were all quieter than usual, much quieter and on edge. They didn't talk about what had just happened, they never did as a group except for the odd quietly muttered conversation, they might talk about things one on one and Janet knew that Matt would, in time, talk to her, but now they had a job to do still.
Later, while the winners were being announced, the commentator interrupted the broadcast to announce the official statement from Nobles Hospital that Kiwi rider Mitchell was currently receiving treatment, but that was all. Janet could feel the atmosphere tense slightly. Vague was bad.
Word came over her radio about fifteen minutes later, while the national anthems were playing for the winners of the 600 race that Number 69, Mitchell had head and internal injuries. She reported it quietly to her team and to the marshals, knowing that it wouldn't go beyond them.
The second race of the day, the Superstock, passed without incident where they were. The Airmed passed over head again, but the reports that came through on her radio were that the rider had minor injuries. One rider retired at their corner with a clutch problem and that was it.
The roads open car passed them with barely a comment from them. A dark cloud hung over them and the lack of update on Mithcell's condition was concerning. Nobles and Race Control were both good at getting news out to reassure people. No news was almost always bad news.
Janet's phone rang as she and Matt got back to the camp site. It was Sam, her voice full of concern as she was inviting Janet and Matt out to dinner that night if they didn't have any other plans. Janet persuaded Matt that drinking too much Bushey's and eating baked beans on toast didn't count as a plan and bundled him back onto her bike.
Sam hugged her too tightly when they got to the restaurant and while they discussed the races of the day in great detail none of them mentioned the elephant in the room that was the crash. They ordered and ate and discussed bikes, politics, food, eating out, bikes, cars, bikes and Sam sat with her leg pressed against Janet's and her hand on her knee between courses.
Word crept round the restaurant as they were eating their main course (and listening to Matt and Daniel good naturedly argue about religion this time) that Manx radio had just announced that Mitchell had succumbed to his injuries and is family had been informed.
The table went quiet and Janet cut up her spaghetti very precisely. She saw Mitchell's face, eyes half open and nearly awake, so close to awake, she saw his breath fogging the visor and she saw him tumbling up the road like a rag doll. She saw a crash two years before, also fatal, she saw another crash that nearly was and then she saw Sam and Jack's sidecar tipping up on it's edge and clipping the outside of the corner.
Her phone rang, suddenly loud and shrill at the quiet table. She checked the screen and excused herself, saying that it was her daughter. She'd forgotten that she'd agreed to talk to Cassie that evening. She wandered around the corner from the restaurant with the phone, listening to Cassie recount all the events of the last couple of days and responding appropriately. She soothed her over a perceived slight from a friend, reinforced that yes she really did have to go to bed when her Dad said she did, answered a homework question and slowly felt a weight lift from her shoulders.
She heard the footsteps approach as she sat on the sea wall and held up a 'one minute' finger to Matt when he got close. Matt turned out to be Sam, who sat down on the wall next to her.
'You okay?' She asked when Janet hung up.
'Yeah, that was my daughter Cassie. I'd forgotten that she was going to call this evening, but the timing was perfect. She's good for my soul.'
'Good,' Sam said, putting her hand over Janet's on the concrete wall and squeezing her fingers gently.
'I was expecting Matt,' Janet confessed, 'but you're a nice surprise.'
'He told me to go after you. He said he'd normally go check you were okay, but since I was looking so worried and we were so busy working our way into each others knickers anyway I should go. He suggested I distract you with my boobs.'
Janet coughed in embarrassment.
'Yup and in front of my Dad too, which I pointed out. I think he was trying to hide under the condiments when I left.'
Janet laughed gently. She put her head on Sam's shoulder and felt her arm go round her.
'Rough day,' Sam said quietly.
Janet nodded against her shoulder.
'And it never gets any easier. You just get better at dealing with it, which is terrifying in it's own way.'
Janet squeezed her knee. 'I'd forgotten, that you were in the military as well as a rider.'
They sat for a while, watching the moored boats bob gently and knock against each other.
'So, daughter?' Sam said in a conversational tone.
'Yeah, hadn't mentioned that yet had I?' Janet said awkwardly.
'Nope.'
'She's called Cassandra and she's twelve going on thirty. Yes, I was a young mum. No, she wasn't planned. No, I'm not still with her Father, but we've remained civil since the divorce and she's staying with him at the moment. She also loves bikes so tends to ring at the end of each race day.'
'Okay,' Sam said, sounding like she was absorbing the information and filing it away. 'Divorce?' She asked.
Janet coughed a half laugh and rolled her eyes. 'Everyone makes foolish decisions in their youth. He's a good guy, but that was the problem.'
'You like women,' Sam nodded.
'Oh yeah I like women,' Janet said emphatically.
Sam didn't move. They sat in silence for a few moments.
'Have I scared you off?' Asked Janet.
'By having a kid? God no.' Sam said, giving her a squeeze. 'Unless I should be scared. Is she a monster? Is she completely out of control? Does she automatically hate anyone her Mum brings home? Is she into horrendous boy bands?'
Janet chuckled, 'None of the above. Well, some days she's a monster, but mostly she's great. As for the music her Dad and I are taking great care to instil discerning taste into her.'
'Pre-emptive strike huh?'
'Yup.'
They sat still for a few more moment and then Janet sat up and kissed Sam softly. 'Thank you for coming after me. It helped.'
'And I didn't even have to use my boobs,' Sam said, keeping her arm around Janet's waist.
'Your Dad will be pleased.'
Sam put her spare hand under Janet's chin and tilted it up so that she could kiss Janet. The kiss deepened for a second and Janet's hand went to Sam's shoulder and held on. Sam pulled back. She gave a half laugh and rested her forehead against Janet's. 'We need to get a room,' she said wryly.
There was a meaningful cough from behind them. They looked and Daniel was doing his best impression of an innocent bystander a short distance away.
'Um, we're just settling the bill,' he said when they were both looking at him. 'And then Matt has suggested going to visit Laxey Wheel.'
Janet frowned, 'but it'll be closed.'
'That's what he said, but he followed it with "and therefore we can hop the fence and get in for free." Jack jumped at the chance funnily enough. I'm sure he's of Scottish descent rather than Irish.'
Janet got up from the sea wall, dusting her trousers down with her hands. 'It's not that unlikely that he could be both,' Janet said.
'T was excited until he realised that we wouldn't have to sneak past anyone and did, literally, just have to hop over the fence, but he's still coming. Your Dad says he might stay in the car and leave the breaking and entering to the youngsters.
'No breaking,' Janet said defensively. 'Just entering. That's no where near as bad.'
Sam took hold of her hand as they moved back to the restaurant. 'Well, Dad's lived here for the last twelve years and he grew up here so I am pretty sure he's been up the wheel enough times already not to need to hop the fence outside hours,' she said.
'Guess you'll have been to it before then' Janet said.
'Actually no.'
'You've had over a decade of visiting your Dad on the island and you never got round to visiting the Laxey wheel? There is that much to do on this lump of rock.'
'Ah, no decade of visiting my Dad. Visiting, or well, even just talking to my Dad is a relatively new thing.'
Janet looked at her. 'Oh,' she said quietly.
Sam shrugged, 'Things are better now. Oddly, racing has helped that hugely. Clearly all that was needed was mortal danger to one of us. Who knew?'
Janet squeezed her hand.
The wheel was deserted as predicted. Janet climbed ungracefully over the gate, only stumbling slightly, but enough for Sam to step in chivalrously and catch hold of her shoulder to steady her. Jack complained about his knees and the others ignored him and Matt recited the history of the Laxey wheel loudly until Jack told him to shut up. T climbed the wheel ahead of the rest of them and was standing looking out when Janet reached the top slightly ahead of Sam and Matt.
'It's impressive,' she said to him, feeling slightly nervous around the man who'd hardly said anything to her.
'It is an admirable piece of engineering,' he said, 'especially within the context of when it was built.'
'Careful T. You might get a reputation for verbosity,' Sam said as she reached the top. He gave her an amused look and then turned to the view again.
'He has a point,' Janet said.
Sam headed straight for the rail and looked down over it.
'I mean. Sixties buildings are falling down now and this was built in the mid nineteenth century and is still solid.'
'Eighteen fifty four,' T said as Matt arrived at the top of the stairs slightly breathless.
'Eighteen fifty four,' Janet repeated, gesturing to T.
'It's very impressive,' Sam agreed.
They looked over the edge and waved at Jack and Jacob, who'd both declined to climb the wheel. T looked out for a few moments longer and then headed back down.
'Is he always so quiet and well, stoic?' Janet asked in a whisper once T was done. 'I trust that you guys trust him implicitly, but he is slightly intimidating.'
'He is always like that,' Sam said. 'It takes a while to get to know T, but he's a solid bloke I assure you, well, sometimes we joke that he's from another planet, but generally we accept that he's human.'
Janet grinned and looked down at the view while Sam stood at her back again as a wing break. The light started to drop and before too long they retreated back to ground level before they were in danger of not being able to see the narrow, steep and old steps.
They said goodnight at the bottom of the wheel. Janet kissed Sam briefly, aware of her Dad still sitting in the car.
'We're going for a rideout at lunchtime tomorrow. Meeting in St Ninian's car park at eleven if you want to come? I'll find a ride for Matt and anyone else who wants to come so you can ride with me if you bring a helmet,' Janet suggested quickly wondering how busy Sam was going to be the day before a race again and if she'd want to go on a ride out.
'Sounds lovely, I'll see you there,' Sam said quickly.
She and Matt rode back to the campsite. It was late and it had been an exhausting day. Janet, after a day like that, would normally have joined the rest of the site anyway for a drink and the therapy of company, but tonight she retreated to her tent, missing Sam.
Part Five