A Punishment For My Sins: A Grand Prix London Report

“I hear you attended the recent Grand Prix in London, Mr Stevenson.” I know the next question before it’s asked.”How did you finish?” My shoulders slump.”Badly.” “We know you finished badly, Mr Stevenson. We want you to tell everyone about it.” I swallow hard. The voice becomes sharp, vindictive.”So write.” “If I do this,” I ask,”will you let me go?” There is laughter. Then a click. Then silence.