Michel 4

A girl and a bike (the title is a tribute to MV comic title nr. 25; Des filles et des moteurs)

At the end of August between the last two Formula 1 races in Europe, motor and car drivers are together on Le Mans for a fundraising event. Both the Formula 1 and the MotoGP, 125 cc and 250 cc are in Europe, so the organization is certain that the turn-out will be considerable. Because the racing season is drawing to an end (F1 only four races to go; the motor circus only five) and it's not an official gathering, teams and drivers are unashamedly shopping. This makes the charity event just a bit more interesting to drivers and teams, all to the benefit of the fundraising.

This morning the Vaillant-stall was busy getting some new drivers to test in a Vaillante. During a break; the circuit was in use by bikers only, Michel and Jean-Pierre had been talking about the test results of these drivers, sitting on the stand directly above the pit. While the two brothers talked a Leader motorbike 'rocketed' past, making conversation impossible for a really very short moment. "That's fast!" Jean-Pierre commented. "That's what Ruth thinks too!" Michel pointed at a clearly delighted Ruth, seated some thirty feet higher. "O.K. so you're on for the next tests and remember Michel..." Jean-Pierre said. "I want you to really concentrate this time!" Michel finished the sentence together with his brother. "I dream about that sentence, you know that?" he continued. "I rather have you did it instead of dream about it" Jean-Pierre said, rising to return to the Vaillante box. "They're not nice dreams, you know!" Michel shouted to his retreating brother's back. Like I care, Jean-Pierre thought. I do, however care about you Michel... and you got me worrying!

Grumpy, Michel slumped back in his seat and watched the Leader bike re-appear at the beginning of the straight, it was clearly in the inlap, slowing down to re-enter the pit. Ruth had talked to her team over the radio and had seen the not so friendly exchange between her greatest opponents. While coming down to go to her own pitbox she passed Michel. "Aaah, Michel" she said in a honeysweet tone. Michel's was more sceptical: "Ruth." "A new track record, on a Leader motorbike!" she continued, her smile deadly sweet. "Great!" his tone was rather patronising. His cocky manners annoyed Ruth beyond limits. But she kept smiling sweet, as was the taste of revenge. Ruth knew a bit about Michel's search, her spies would not misfit in any secret service. "You should see the driver Michel," her tone was still so sweet, Michel could feel his teeth ache. A bit confused he looked at the binoculars she offered. "She might surprise you," Ruth continued, her knowing smile was lost on Michel; he already had the binoculars on his eyes, searching the grid to find the biker.

And there she stood, HIS June, next to a Leader motorbike, having removed a Leader helmet, running a hand through her curls and, it seemed, joking with the guy next to her: a Leader mechanic. Without a word he handed the binoculars back to Ruth and walked away. When he reached the stairs at the far side of the stand Ruth yelled at him, so hard the people down on the grid looked up: "I'll make it up to you Michel, honey, tonight in our bed!" But Michel didn't even turn around.

Down on the grid Kathy MacRae looked up, brushed her curls from her face and shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she saw him walk away. So Ruth is to be the lucky bride, she thought. Well rather him than me, with Ruth Wong. Then she shook her head to loose her next thought: so much rather me then her with Michel Vaillant.

The last European race at Monza was already a week ago; most of the team Vaillante had already left for the far-east, the races in China and Japan awaiting them. The night before he too would fly to China Jean-Pierre came to La Jonquière. He needed to talk to his father about Michel. Although he did not want to worry his father and especially not his mother, something had to be done. This evening with Michel already in China was an opportune moment to do that and so Jean-Pierre found his self in the living of his parental home. His father and he were opposite each other near the large fire in the hearth, his mother was further away, doing some correspondence.

While his father carefully tasted his pinot-noir, Jean-Pierre expressed his concerns: "Je ne sais pas, Papa. I don't know dad. Physically he's fine. The report from Doctor Martin a few weeks ago and again yesterday confirms it." He was silent until his father pressed him on: "But?" "But where I was concerned about his wild ways at Spa only about three weeks ago... I mean, it's almost unthinkable but it actually got to the point where I was really afraid that Michel would do something stupid in a fit of temper on a track. Who would have believed it, we're talking about Michel here! However right now I'm more concerned about his lack of emotion."

"Michel always was a quiet person, silently doing his thing when it needs to be done." Henri Vaillant commented. "Right," his eldest son took over again: "quiet, but in for action. Not... not..." he hushed, looking for words to say this, a way to make it less severe and failed. He couldn't look at his father when he whispered: "You know dad, nowadays when he gets into a car I'm just afraid that he'll do something stupid because he decides there's no use anymore..."

There was a heavy silence, broken by Henri: "He's still good, very good."

Jean-Pierre sighed: "You know he used to be sublime, he used to be the best."

His father nodded and then decided: "I'll, no we'll both come with you to China!"

Shanghai International Circuit is designed by Hermann Tilke and Peter Wahl. They have succeeded in not only developing a challenging circuit for the drivers, but also a beautiful circuit for the eye; first of all because the circuit allows a really exciting race, but also because of the architecture. The team buildings are arranged like pavilions in a lake to resemble the ancient Yuyan-Garden in Shanghai and the circuit itself has been shaped like the Chinese character 'shang', which stands for 'high' or 'above'. It was the race circuit for the new millennium and the home of the first Chinese Grand Prix.

And it had been an exciting race; with every superb high and horrifying low a team could encounter during one. On Saturday Steve had qualified second, only 0.087 seconds from Fernando Alonso's pole position. Third was Bob Cramer for Leader, fourth Michael Schumacher in his Ferrari, the other Leader, driven by Dan Hawkins was fifth, sixth was Montoya, seventh Jason Button's BAR and then came Michel; in a disappointing eighth position. At the start Michel jumped to a promising fourth place, but the Renault of Jacques Villeneuve was the real surprise; coming from ninth to third, right behind Steve. The first problems arose when the riders came up for curve 14; one of the last curves before blasting on the straight again, here they had to brake from some 330km/h in sixth to 90km/h in second gear to negotiate the sharp right hander. Steve paired with Alonso, but as none of them lifted off, they came to the corner together. Alonso inside, Steve outside... the two cars looked melted together for a moment and then Alonso lost control, spinning from the track, hitting the barriers and bouncing back onto the track, taking out his new team-mate Villeneuve. Michel was only just able to avoid a frontal crash but couldn't prevent the two Leaders overtaking him. Behind the safety car the lead of the two blue and two red cars disappeared like snow before the sun. The restart was superb for Steve, who managed to keep both Leaders behind him but disastrous for Michel who was accused of 'sleeping' by several TV commentators. Both the Ferraris and Montoya in his Williams passed him. However, through smart pitting, they got Michel in third place again, behind Steve in second and Montoya in first. After Steve pitted, Michel took his second position. And then Montoya got an engine problem. He suddenly slowed to a turtle pace and although he did return his car to the pit, his face spoke volumes when he got out. Thus, with the 'regards' of BMW, Michel was given the front. Steve established a phenomenal, sometimes rather dicey, series of over takings and became second, right behind his team-mate. And then in the last eight laps, Michel's times started to drop. Over the radio he told the team that he had lost the sixth and fifth gear and wanted to box. Jean-Pierre told him the computers did not show anything and to stay out. While his lap times kept dropping and both Steve and Cramer had overtaken him the two brothers got into a fight on the radio, resulting in Jean-Pierre finally letting Michel pit in. Nothing was found and Jean-Pierre sent him on his 'merry' way again, but the race was lost for Michel. He dropped down to eighth as he left the pitlane. Before the race was over, he was lapped by Steve, the two Leaders and both Ferraris.

In the end Steve won the race and although every victory was one he had dual feelings about it. After the winner's ceremony the team returned to the box. Steve felt angry and miserable because he knew Michel had let him win the race. When he entered the box he found Michel; already showered and changed; ready to leave. Steve took one look at Michel, taking in his appearance and walked right passed him. When Michel extended his hand and tried to congratulate him, Steve refused. "I don't need gifts Michel!" "WHAT?" Michel's hackles rose right away. Some team members looked up. Jean-Pierre laid a hand on his brother's arm: "Not here Michel." But Michel immediately pulled his arm loose and took his rage out on his brother, roaring: "Don't you tell me what to do. Not now and not in a race! You telling me to go back on that track was the wrong call and you know it!" Suddenly you could hear a pin drop. Everybody: from the chief engineer José to Patrick, who took care of the tyre warmers was too ashamed to look at either one of the family members or Steve. The first one to move was Steve. He took his helmet and left towards his own trailer. When Jean-Pierre moved to go after him, suddenly Michel grabbed his brother's arm and snarled: "There was a Vaillante on the highest step of the podium, so what do you care?!" then he stormed away. A moment Jean-Pierre closed his eyes but then he proceeded following Steve.

Henri's voice penetrated the thundering silence: "Well, after all the hard work first there is of course our gratitude for your loyalty to the team Vaillante and second you can get from the bar whatever you want before third; you all get some rest and then fourth: I'll see you all, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, tomorrow again for the training we planned here." The light tone of their former boss relieved some of the tension and even a tentative laugh was heard. After his 'speech' Henri turned and went to find his youngest son.

While the mechanics started to move, encouraged by José and the box slowly cleared out Elisabeth stood in the back. Her hand was on her mouth and she was still staring at the spot where Michel had stood, shaken by what she had just witnessed. A soft voice brought her back: "Madame Vaillant?" She turned and saw a slender girl with reddish-brown curls and brown eyes. "Excuse moi mais... is there something wrong with Michel?" the girl asked in French. Elisabeth had been in the business for years and knew the most important rule in racing: never to talk to strangers about team business. "Je m'excuse mais I can not provide any information to you, you should see our press-officer..." she started but the girl interrupted: "I know you don't know me, but I'm not a reporter. It's just..." and then off Elisabeth's face she extended her hand: "My name is Kathy MacRae," they shook hands, "I ride a motorbike. I saw Michel ride today and..." Elisabeth noticed that the girl's face became concerned upon continuing, you could even say scared, she thought.

Softly the girl continued: "I know it's not my place to ask but please: is Michel alright?" Still Elisabeth couldn't tell her anything so she simply looked at the girl whose expression altered from genuine concern to a harder, defensive expression when she said: "Maybe it's just a lovers' tiff with Ruth? About the marriage? Non?" Somehow it didn't surprise Elisabeth that her eyes were neither hungry nor inquisitive, like a journalist's would be. On the contrary: the young woman had slightly turned and was avoiding any eye contact. With authority Elisabeth answered: "Ruth!? They are no lovers! And it is Steve who's going to marry, not Michel." The quick turn of the head and wide eyes were not lost on Elisabeth. "Not?!"

Suddenly brown eyes darkened to a dangerous near-black and in an authentic rich Scottish accent came: "Well, that two-timing, fork-tongued serpent!" followed by an "Oh!" as if she had a revelation. Silence, then a whisper still in English: "My test! How... Maybe..." In a flash she saw Michel again, walking away from Ruth when she had glanced up from the grid in Le Mans. That was when Ruth had said... But would Ruth Wong be interested in hurting her? Or was there another who Ruth wanted to get back at... Another... "Oh!" escaped her lips again before she started walking away. Then suddenly, as if she remembered good manners, she turned back to offer Elisabeth her hand. In French again she said "It's been nice to have met you Madame Vaillant, quiet clarifying actually." The girl's actions provoked tenderness in Elisabeth. And her voice was far less cold when she answered: "It was nice to meet you too, Miss MacRae," and then acting on a mother's instinct, she added: "If there is anything I can do for you?"

The eyes were a warm brown again when Kathy softly answered: "I understand that you can't give any information about... Michel to a stranger." There had only been the slightest hesitation before uttering the name. And then suddenly the girl's face lit up: "But you could probably give him some information!" Relieve was prominent in her voice when she said: "Ah, Madame Vaillant please tell him I have no intention of driving for Leader. Now, even less then ever. It was just a stupid bet between me and one of her mechanics, not that she ever knew that!" and it was a smiling Kathy MacRae that left the Vaillantbox.