Fern moved forward, towards her dad who was currently shouting at the organiser that she’d cheated. Beneath the visor of her helmet, she could see the redness of his skin even from this distance of over 100 feet, which wasn’t a good sign.
She finally got close enough to hear what was being said.
“It’s clear that hooligan cut my boy up!”
“As I’ve already said there wasn’t any rule breaking it was a perfectly legal race.”
“That’s bull Geoff! And you know it!” He stepped closer to the other man, poking his chest but he simply swatted him off and gave a glare that had her father moving backwards.
“Look Pete, Gabe can’t win them all – it’s not my call but even if it was your kid was beat fair and square.”
“Dad, he’s right. Come on, you’re making a scene.” Gabe pulled on their father’s arm from the other side of him and it was the first time Fern realised that he was also there.
“Listen to your son.” Geoff advised.
“Not until I know who that cheat is. Give me the name?”
“I’ve not got the list.”
Her father eyed his friend suspiciously. “You know all the riders you let in here.”
“Can’t be expected to remember their numbers.”
“You can’t remember the winner? And since when did you not carry a full list on you for, and I quote, health and safety reasons? What gives?”
Geoff eyed her approaching figure suspiciously causing Fern’s father and brother to turn to her as well.
“Never mind, I’ll ask the bastard myself.”
Geoff stopped him with an outstretched arm. “Go easy on the kid would you, Pete?”
“Go . . . go easy . . . easy?” He spluttered.
“That’s what I said.”
Fern came to a stop five feet from the group. Taking a deep breath. This was the moment she’d been wishing for, for as long as she could remember. For her love of the sport, her skill and her talent to be recognised by her family and not just ignored or shoved to the side for her brother.
“Well, you got a name or what boy?” Her dad asked.
Fern froze, taking another deep breath to psych herself up to the reveal.
“Not a boy, dad.” Gabe muttered. Clearly, he’d figured it out, as much as she’d tried to hide it beneath the leathers there was some obviously feminine aspects of her physique.
“You letting girls in now, Geoff?”
“Always have. One finally decided to enter.”
“Who’s stupid enough to allow their daughter into this mess.”
Fern pulled her helmet off whilst her dad was distracted quizzing his friend and scanning the rest of the supporters. “You.”
“Fuck!” Gabe swore, but he was wearing that grin. The one he wore whenever she beat him on their practise track or managed to snag the last can of Coke from the fridge before him. The one that said it was okay.
“Gabe watch your . . .” He paused mid-turn noticing Fern. For a moment he simply stared at her. “Fuck indeed.”
A Rosie Viewpoint 