A Racing Life


isn't dead.
Valued Member
I thought I'd start getting my creative juices going, and what better way than to write a story about a racing driver on my favourite motorsports website! I hope nobody minds.

I also thought about making this a Choose Your Own Adventure, where people could vote at the end of each section to decide what happened in the story - sadly I can't think of a proper way of doing this as of now, except for a poll which would require multiple threads, or a simple 'A' 'B' vote. We might come back to this at some point if there's enough interest which I hope there will be. ;)

This is an entirely fictional and original work. Any resemblance to any persons, people, personalities, businesses or events are purely coincidental.

* * *​

Edwin Bocklesworth looked at the sheet of cream coloured paper on the mahogany table carefully, making sure every last detail was how he wanted them to be. They were. He picked up his father's designer pen before taking one last moment to reflect on what he was about to do. Sign a contract, at this stage? He hadn't even sealed the Karting League Championship title and yet here were the Super Sparkle Grand Prix team, a relatively sizable midfield competitor, offering him a 5 year deal, the first two of which would be spent in one of their junior category cars. 5 years, he thought to himself. That's a long time. He wanted some space. He needed to be alone.

"I'm sorry Daddy, but I need some time to think." he said.
"But boy, I've worked so hard for this! You can't turn this down now!" protested his father William, jumping up from his leather sofa, he himself a great racing driver of the past. A man with no fear, they'd shout. A man with no class, they'd whisper.

Edwin looked at his father longingly. If only he hadn't the pressure of a famous father, he thought. Edwin enjoyed racing, but never felt it was his true calling, always being harried into things by his dad when he was never quite sure he wanted to. A lengthy silence between the two ensued, before William spoke up once again.

"Look here, lad, you've got one thing to do today - just one - and that's sign that damned contract. You'll win this karting championship, I know it, and next year you'll start racing with the boys that matter, and after that, well, after that you'll be in the big leagues."

William was satisfied that this last effort was enough to make his boy see The Light and settled back into his favourite position on the sofa, namely, a whole half of it with a glass of scotch in one hand. Edwin felt the power of his father's ego bore into his flesh like a great Seeing eye, and he felt uncomfortable still. At age 17 he did, after all, have an awful lot on his mind. Yet the power of the contract placed in front of him was all too tempting, and for what felt like the umpteenth time that day, he pored over the details of it.

* * *

By that evening, half of Hampshire had heard the full scoop on William Bocklesworth's son, regaling each other with stories of the young man's life so far.

"A racing driver now, you know."
"Oh really? Oh that is marvellous. Isn't it, Georgina? Simply marvellous."

"I knew he was well to do from the moment he was born. He had that sort of look about him, not the look of a poor ruffian, well, you know the type.."
"Well I do hope he succeeds, I just my wish my Henry would do something better in his life than spending all his time with that awful young lady down in the village..."
"Oh yes Georgina, quite, quite.."

So too the celebrations were being had at the Bocklesworth's manor, with father William eagerly pushing a glass of expensive champagne into Edwin's empty hands despite his protestations.

"But Daddy, I have a race tomorrow, don't you remember?"
"Nonsense nonsense, boy, you'll take a drink and be fine for the morning, don't you worry. Why I would drink 'till all the canaries in Antigua came home and still feel fighting fresh for one of my own races, you know."

Edwin reluctantly took the champagne, swigging it down in one.

"Be sure you don't drink too much of that, won't you, Eddie?" came a voice from behind Edwin.

Edwin immediately recognised the voice of Jonathan Racklebury, a karting prodigy that raced against him at the weekends. Jonathan was a good friend, yes, but a rival too.

"You don't want to be slow into the first corner again now do you?" he joked, slapping Edwin on the shoulder.

"You can be quite sure I won't, Jonathan.. I'll have you this time." Edwin responded in kind, smiling impishly at his friend.

"Always with the bravado, aren't you? I suppose you get that from your father.. and by the way, what is he doing with that 15th century Chinese artwork?"

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED... possibly.
I find that extremely sad and unnerving - but probably not for the reasons you intended!
I find that extremely sad and unnerving - but probably not for the reasons you intended!
Was it the fact that I went to such a length writing it that you found sad or the fact that some 15th century Chinese art might've been destroyed?
Was it the fact that I went to such a length writing it that you found sad or the fact that some 15th century Chinese art might've been destroyed?
No., the writing was brilliant - it was probably a mother's reaction and how we push our children sometimes.

Will reread and check out the Chinese element!
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