I’ve played a little fast and loose with the rally’s timeline in this part; this year, it took the driving teams and the rest of the retinue two days to get from the actual finish to Essaouira, where they had the closing celebratory ceremonies. I plead lack-of-structural-imagination-regarding-what-to-use-those-two-days-for license, particularly how I left things at the end of part 1. Mostly, though, I just wanted to get them to lovely Essaouira. Because everyone should have some loveliness.
“Et maintenant?” Driss asks. And now? It is late in the day, this last day, and he and Myka are driving their last drive together, towards the finish. The finish at Essaouira: lovely breezy city by the sea.
“Quoi?” she asks back, as blank a What? as she can manage. He gives her a little tch, a don’t play dumb noise, so she says, “Je pas.” I don’t know. Another tch. “Je sais pas ce qu’elle veut.” I don’t know what she wants.
“Toutes les meufs, elles veulent la même.” All the girls, they want the same. He’s very confident; his take it easy tone is clear.
“Moi, ouais?” Me, yeah?
That sends him into hysterics, as intended. He deserves some reward, however small, for having put up with Myka, and for being who he’s been about the whole thing. She grins at him and says, “Tous les mecs, ils veulent la même aussi.” All the guys, they want the same thing too. “Les détails.” The details.
He laughs again and settles in to cajole her into divulging any and all details regarding what she has got up to with women.