Chapter Seven

August

 

AS HENRY FETCHED his suitcase from the conveyor belt and headed toward the exit, he hoped this trip wouldn’t prove to be a pipe dream that only prolonged the inevitable. He loved Shawn, and it was pointless to tell himself he didn’t, but was there any future in it, even if Shawn was able to return that love?

Stepping out into the arrivals hall, he told himself that the only thing for it was to give it a chance. He spotted Shawn leaning against a column with a large coffee and sighed. No doubt about it, Shawn was an addictive combination of hot and considerate. As he walked over, Shawn gave him a warm, genuine smile that Henry couldn’t help reciprocating as Shawn pulled him into a welcome hug, careful not to splash the coffee.

“It’s good to see you again,” Shawn said softly as he embraced Henry, and Henry clearly heard the thankfulness in his voice. “Here you go, get this into ya,” he said, pulling back and pressing the coffee into Henry’s hand as he took Henry’s case.

“Thank you,” Henry said for more than just the coffee.

“Journey in any better this time round?” Shawn asked as they walked toward the car park.

“Yeah, loads better. I thought it wouldn’t be with the school holidays on but guess I got lucky.”

“Glad to hear that,” Shawn said. “There are few things in life that can put you off quite like a bad flight.”

“I know that too well,” Henry agreed.

“Do you prefer rest or food first?” Shawn asked, popping open the boot of his Land Rover.

“Food would be bonza right now,” Henry said.

“You liked the one up by mine, right on the green?”

Henry nodded, settling in the passenger seat. “Yeah, sounds perfect. I could murder one of their burgers right now.”

Shawn put the key in the ignition but hesitated to start the car immediately. “Henry, I… I wanted to thank you again,” Shawn said unpretentiously. “You could have easily told me to get fucked, and I wouldn’t have blamed you. But I am honestly managing to get my head outta my arse about this, and I appreciate you giving me a chance to do it properly.”

“You’re welcome,” Henry said, reaching over to give Shawn’s hand a squeeze. “We’ll see how things go the next few weeks, but for the record, I’m glad you’re getting your head outta yer arse too. ’Bout time, I’d say.” He tugged on Shawn’s hand to pull him close enough for a quick kiss to show him he was mostly teasing.

“You’re not wrong,” Shawn murmured, his lips just brushing against Henry’s.

 

September

 

“HOW DO I look?” Shawn said, walking into the library modelling a green tweed sport coat and tan trousers.

“Very smart.” Henry nodded with a broad smile. “You’ll look fantastic in the paddock.”

“I wasn’t sure about the hat,” Shawn said, checking the mirror on the wall. “Can’t remember the last time I wore one. Does seem to be the thing, though, especially with the coat.”

“I think it looks great,” Henry said, getting up from the couch and wrapping his arms around Shawn’s waist. “Really accentuates your strong jawline and piercing eyes.”

“Well, thanks,” Shawn said as he turned around in Henry’s arms for a kiss.

“You did pack your passes, right?” Henry checked.

“Of course,” Shawn assured him. “These are the last of it,” he said, dropping his hat on the couch.

“And I’ve given you the timetable for the weekend, so you can schedule your body wraps or whatever around my races,” Henry said.

“Yeah…remind me which ones you’re driving in again?” Shawn hedged.

“The Friday evening, the Saturday 2:00, and the Sunday morning right after Holy Communion and the track blessing,” Henry said dryly with a smirk that said Shawn wasn’t fooling him.

“And you’re doing all the meet-and-greet stuff the rest of the day Sunday, right?”

“Yeah, but don’t forget the ‘best dressed’ prizes are at 3:00. Handsome bastard like you should be in with a chance,” Henry grinned.

“Fuck off,” Shawn scoffed. “Now, the time slot for the driver’s prizes, I will keep open.”

Henry shrugged and said, “The real fun is over with by then. I’d be just as happy not to be bothered with the presentations and just head to a pub for some real food, but people like the pomp, I guess.”

“The pub will be waiting, I promise,” Shawn said. “And then back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep.”

“Yeah, sleep—that’s very likely with you around.” Henry laughed wryly.

 

AFTER A FOGGY and gentle, autumnal start to the day, Saturday afternoon was cool but sunny and Shawn was glad of his hat, though he also thought some of the vintage sunglasses he’d seen around the grounds would have been a great addition to his outfit. Fortunately, for the start of the first St. Mary’s Trophy race, in which Henry was driving a 1959 Riley 1.5, Shawn had seating in one of the start-line grandstands.

In some ways, he wished he had invited James and Merrick or Nigel and Theo to join them because he was rather on his own and knew precious little about racing. Shawn had never minded keeping his own company, though, and the whole point of being there for the weekend was supporting Henry, so he simply sat back and watched the race as best he could. It was rather impossible for him to tell who was winning, even with the commentary broadcast on his radio earpiece, so he mainly just watched for Henry’s blue #36 Riley.

After about the fifth time he’d seen the Riley go by, there seemed to be an extended lull on the track and some commotion amongst the track officials, including a red flag being produced and held out over the track. Even Shawn knew that red flags were never a good sign. There didn’t appear to be any helpful information forthcoming from the broadcast, beyond an ‘accident on the course’, so Shawn decided on the proactive route. The ‘sitting there wondering if it was Henry who’d crashed’ option was really not on the table at all. He left the grandstand intent on asking the first event staffer he found where he could find out what had happened to halt the race.

He’d been involved in enough events to know that the general helpers usually weren’t privy to such information, but he’d also had enough experience navigating chains of command to know how to ultimately get to the root of a question. The level of access indicated on the badge he wore around his neck was also helpful in getting explicit directions instead of just being passed around amongst lower-level personnel until he finally got tired and went away.

After only two subsequent enquires, Shawn had one question answered—the crash had occurred at the Lavant corner of the track and involved a Riley driven by Henry Martin. Shawn took several long, slow breaths, fighting the urge to either be sick or demand to be taken there immediately.

“I’m a good friend of his,” Shawn explained as calmly as he could manage, not sure he’d quite kept the tremor out of his voice. “I’d really appreciate it if there was someone who could let me know of his condition.”

Shawn was informed that the best bet was the first aid post behind the Lavant grandstand, and before he could ask the fastest way to get there, the staffer was radioing for the nearest available golf cart to give Shawn a lift to the other end of the track. Within minutes, he had arrived at the station, refusing to look in the direction of the track the whole way there. Climbing out of the cart, only just thinking to thank the driver as he started away, Shawn again did his best to remain in control and to enquire calmly and politely if Mr. Martin had been brought there after the crash.

The nurse on duty at the front of the station looked reluctant to say anything, even though Shawn explained that he was a close friend, until a voice from behind one of the partition screens called out for Shawn. He looked at the nurse as if to ask if that was sufficient identification and stepped inside.

“My god… Are you all right?” Shawn breathed more than spoke, seeing Henry leaning back on an exam table in just his protective base layers, his driving suit and helmet already off and set aside.

Henry sighed in frustration. “Yeah. Think I did my bloody shoulder yet again though. And they seem to think I could be mildly concussed. Other than that, no worries. Except for the car, which is royally fucked.”

“I was terrified when I heard you’d crashed,” Shawn said, keeping his voice down, but hating that he couldn’t speak more openly, especially in that moment.

Henry shook his head slightly. “Looks worse than it was. For me, anyway.”

“I didn’t see anything, Henry,” Shawn said. “I wouldn’t look at the track—no idea what the hell I might see.”

“Just a car planted face-first in a tyre wall,” Henry said morosely. “Oil on the track, apparently. Hit it just as I started to floor it for the straightaway.”

“Please tell me you’re not racing tomorrow?” Shawn said.

Henry huffed a dreary laugh. “Of course not. Whether I can even run at Bathurst next month remains to be seen. I’ll have to get medical clearance, that’s for defo.”

Shawn held back his opinion on that matter and instead asked if Henry had been attended with more than just first aid yet.

“The big docs will be up any time now,” Henry said, sounding tired. “Marshals got me out and dusted off and up here, made sure I didn’t fall in any rabbit holes on the way. They’ll probably want to shoo you off as soon as they turn up, but don’t go too far away? I’m done here for the weekend, and I think I just want to rest for the next couple days.”

“I think you need to,” Shawn said. “I won’t go far, and as soon as they say you can leave, I’ll have you off back to the hotel, all right?”

“Thanks, Shawn,” Henry said. “I’m sorry about this. Hope it hasn’t put you off.”

Shawn didn’t get a chance to respond to that before several team doctors had stepped around the partition and surrounded Henry. Shawn caught his glance and a roll of his eyes and gave Henry an encouraging smile before going to have a seat out front. More than anything, he was just glad Henry was conscious and not gravely hurt or in pain, though he suspected a significant amount of soreness would surface by that evening.

After about twenty minutes, Henry emerged from the exam in the jeans and light blue button-down he’d had on that morning, his right arm in a light sling. “Well, they said the shoulder doesn’t look broken, and I don’t appear to be concussed. Apparently, when they ask you who the US President is, it’s not wrong to answer ‘They haven’t got one’. But I’m still supposed to take it easy and let them know if anything changes in the next few days. Which I guess means a pint with dinner is disallowed.”

“Yeah, I think so. More like a bath with Epsom salts, I reckon,” Shawn said. “Are you allowed to leave? Let me get you back to the hotel?”

“Yeah.” Henry nodded.

“Can I bring the car around through that gate there?” Shawn asked, pointing at the access gate from the public road.

“I’d really rather walk a bit,” Henry said. “Do you mind? It’ll only be about fifteen minutes.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Shawn said and together they started back toward the car park on the opposite side of the circuit.

Once they were back in Shawn’s Rover, he put a hand on Henry’s thigh and said, “I’m glad you’re all right, Henry.”

Henry didn’t respond for a moment. And then he clenched his eyes shut and took a long shuddering breath, turning away from Shawn and running his hand over his face.

“Henry…” Shawn murmured. “It’s all right, luv. You’re all right, you’re going to be fine.”

Henry nodded and said quietly, “It’s not that. It’s fine, just…go on.”

“Tell me what it is, then?” Shawn asked. “Please. Because I need to know if you’re hurting or something.”

“I’m not,” Henry assured him. “Not yet, anyway. Be sore as fuck tomorrow, I’m sure.”

“Henry. Talk to me?”

“I’m sorry you were scared, Shawn. And I’m sorry you had to come find me on your own.”

“Henry, don’t worry abou’ that. I’ve been involved in enough events to know how to work through a chain of command. It’s fine.”

Henry shook his head and was quiet again for a long moment. “It’s not fine. I want to put you down as one of my emergency contacts,” he said eventually. “I want them to know that if I get hurt, you should be contacted straightaway.”

“All right,” Shawn said, “that’s fine with me. Of course, I’d rather you weren’t hurt at all.” Instead of looking relieved, Henry looked more anxious, clenching his jaw as if to keep from saying too much. “What is it, Henry?” Shawn asked, stroking Henry’s knee.

Henry bit his lip and let out a long puff of breath. “You know, maybe I am concussed, ’cause I don’t usually get emotional,” he said, staring out into the middle of the car park. “See, I want them to know why it’s important to contact you, Shawn,” he said quietly. “But that’s where we’ve had an issue before, so…maybe not yet.”

“What do you mean, Henry?” Shawn asked, still stroking his knee. “Don’t worry about before, all right? It’s more important to me to know how you’re feeling, here and now.”

“I want to be able to call you my boyfriend,” Henry said, not looking in Shawn’s direction.

For a moment, Shawn didn’t respond. In the past, that word had been like kryptonite to him, but hearing it from Henry felt far more reassuring than off-putting. “I don’t see that’s inaccurate in any way,” Shawn said. “If that’s what you want to call this, I don’t see why not.”

“It wouldn’t be scaring you away, though, would it? Because the only thing I wanted when you walked into that station was a hug, but I didn’t want to ask because any-bloody-body could have walked in…”

“Then let’s sort that now, because all I wanted just then was to get my arms around you and prove to myself that you really were in one piece. You deserve to know beyond a doubt that you are the most important person in my life, Henry Martin,” Shawn said, leaning over the console and carefully pulling Henry into a deep kiss.

“I really do love you, Shawn,” Henry said, holding Shawn close while trying to keep from annoying his sore shoulder.

“I love you, too, Henry. Well more than I ever thought possible,” Shawn said softly with a kiss to Henry’s cheek. “Now, I’ll get us to the hotel and run a hot bath for you, all right? You need to rest.”

“Thank you,” Henry murmured, trying to ignore the dampness around his eyes.

Shawn just stroked Henry’s knee and started up the car. He knew well enough that if there was even a chance of a mild concussion, Henry needed to take it easy for at least the next week, physically as well as mentally. And while he was proud and honoured that Henry wanted him to be designated as his significant other, he knew there would be challenges that Henry would need to be prepared to deal with. That would all have to wait, though, as would Shawn’s own challenges in figuring out how to support Henry’s career while also being terrified that something like that afternoon could happen again.