A tap on the shoulder, nothing more. I opened an eye, which even through its blear could see a large white Ford Falcon parked outside the pit garage. Panic. Where did the time go? I like a snooze before a stint but how did I oversleep this much? Why didn’t someone kick me from my stupor when they gave Louis the ‘In’ board? Or if they were feeling kind, a lap earlier? Above all, why is there still daylight? Realisation. The Falcon is not meant to be there. Louis has brought it in early. Something’s wrong. And now, an all too familiar feeling. It is over before it even started.
The Frankel family track record at the Spa Six Hours is perhaps a little patchy. It started well. In 2004 three brothers in a little Alfa Giulia Super skidding around with only a crunchy synchromesh between fourth and fifth on the debit side come the final flag. Then, after five years of racing other stuff elsewhere, just two of the brothers returned in an Alfa GTAm, a 1969 car in a race for pre-66 machines, rendered eligible by the once rather wonderful but now sadly defunct Eau Rouge Trophy category for ineligible cars. A ridiculously rare 2-litre 16-valve Autodelta engine giving 240bhp, we thought we’d be lucky to
