the night she dumped his used syringes in Belgium; and the time she picked uptestosterone for George Hincapie.There was also the evening during the ’99 Tour she heard Armstrong and two teambosses concoct a story to get round a positive test for cortisone. “Now, Emma,”Armstrong said at the end of that night, “you know enough to bring me down.” He neverthought she would because he sensed she had a vague admiration for his drive andambition. But she saw beyond that. She was never taken in. “Lance was Lance,” shewould often say, meaning you had to know the rough and the smooth.With Emma I never understood how guilty she would feel about betraying people in thePostal team she liked. Tyler Hamilton, Jonathan Vaughters and the head mechanicJulian de Vriese, with whom she became very friendly. Julian was old school; Belgian,once mechanic to Eddy Merckx and later Greg LeMond. He looked after Armstrong. Oldenough to be Emma’s father but they liked each other.He wouldn’t understand why she would spit in the soup. That’s what they called it whensomeone spoke of cycling’s dark sub-culture,
cracher le soupe
. Betraying Julianbothered her but then she’d think of another Belgian, Johan Bruyneel, her boss atPostal.Through her last year with the team, he bullied her and made her life miserable. Afterstealing her diary, he went to her colleagues and lied about her writing nasty thingsabout them. Emma thought Bruyneel manipulative and underhand and indescribablystupid for believing he could treat her as he had and still expect her to carry the team’ssecrets to her grave. Betsy and Emma had very different personalities but shared onequality. Everything they said, you felt was the truth.