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And then it was my turn. The moment I had been waiting for.
I walked out of the room and onto the stage, watching the masses of people who had gathered in Abu Dhabi to watch us race – to watch me win. I waved at them as I walked onto the top step, taking my trophy from the government official before setting it down so I could take my hat off for the Monaco national anthem.
As soon as the anthems finished, I picked up my bottle of champagne to spray Henri and Noah, but it was too late – they had beaten me to it, absolutely drenching me, and then Mel, who was the Valkyrie podium representative, with their two bottles. As soon as the bubbles died down, I took one more look into the crowd, giving them a final wave before stepping off the podium.
The moment my foot hit the ground, Lily was on me – her arms wrapping around me as she picked me up into a hug, screaming the entire time.
“You did it!” Lily chanted over and over again, the two of us now jumping up and down like school girls. Somehow, this had become our signature move.
I walked back to the garage, trophy in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. Fiona was the first to pull me into a hug, but it was short-lived as the rest of the garage crew started to filter over, all of them demanding hugs, everyone wanting to see the trophy. I looked around for Isabelle, my eyes scanning the garage.
Fiona saw my confused look because she leaned over and whispered to me, “In the office.” I nodded and made my way to Isabelle’s office, knocking on the door. As soon as I heard the words ‘come in,’ I opened it slowly, looking around the dimly lit room for Isabelle.
There in the corner of her office was Isabelle, sat on her couch, a glass of what looked like whisky in her hands. There was once a point in my Valkyrie F1 career that I thought I would never see Isabelle smile, but that seemed like a farfetched idea as I observed my team principal in front of me, tears in her ears.
I walked over to her and set the trophy down on the coffee table before grabbing a glass and filling it up with the whisky that was set in front of her, joining her on the couch. The two of us sat in silence for several minutes, both of us sipping on our glasses, neither of us saying anything.
“You know, when I was a young girl, I loved racing. Loved it dearly. I spent every weekend with my parents in Italy, karting with my brother. But as I got older, the karting got more expensive, and there was only enough money for one of us to continue. Even though I was more talented than my brother, my parents chose to continue funding his karting. Apparently, there was no hope I would ever be a professional driver. That just wasn’t something in the cards for a woman, so my brother, who could barely win races, got to continue living my dream as I was forced to return to normal life.” I observed Isabelle as she told the story, setting my glass down on the counter as I poured the both of us another round.
“It was that day I promised myself I was going to start an F1 team. I decided that I was going to win this championship somehow…”
“And now that we have… it almost doesn’t seem real, does it?” I finished for her. I understood what Isabelle was feeling. Deep inside my soul, I understood. I had fought so long to be here, fought tooth and nail to stand on that podium and accept the World Driver’s Championship trophy, and now that this day had arrived, it felt almost bittersweet. The illustrious dream wasn’t so illustrious anymore. Isabelle smiled at me, her tears drying up as she took another sip of whisky.
“And now we’ve done it. Today, a female-run and operated team did more than just win the WDC. We proved to the world that women should have an equal seat at the table in motorsports – from mechanics to leadership to drivers, we’re here to stay.”
“That we are, Isabelle, that we are.”
“Next year is a new year, Georgia. New car, new challenges. You ready to do it all again?”
“How many championships do I need to win to beat Eric’s record of having the most titles? They have six, so I need seven?” I said with a chuckle, earning me a huge grin from Isabelle.
“Hmm… perhaps we should make it eight… just to be safe,” Isabelle countered, a refreshing gleam I had come to know so well gathering in her eyes.
“Well, we have one down.” I raised my glass as I stood up, clinking it with Isabelle’s. “Here’s to another seven championships, Isabelle.”
