Driven by Ambition, page 23
Jaxxon dangled the keys again, then whispered in Freddy’s ear. “I can’t believe I never noticed that I’d never seen you drive.”
“It’s a bit embarrassing, but by the time I thought I probably should get my standard licence, I was famous and I didn’t want to turn up at the licencing place and end up going viral.”
“And I suppose you never really needed it, either.”
“No.”
“Well, come on. Let’s get some apples.” Jaxxon paused, then leaned in close and whispered. “I assume Ma is making the excuse just to put you and my father in a closed space together for a while.”
“I assumed as much. It’s sweet, you know, that they care so much for you.” He wanted to be quizzed by them. Wasn’t that a rite of passage when meeting someone’s family? His own family certainly didn’t give a shit about any of his partners; they’d been zero help during the Chester drama with his father pointing out that he’d better not drag the family name through the press. As if it were his fault.
“Come on boys, let’s get moving.” Jack called out, and they both trotted after him. The Renault van had a well-maintained, if well-used and slightly battered, look about it.
“I keep offering to get them a new one.”
“They won’t let you?” Freddy didn’t understand that mentality.
“I already bought the bakery for them a few years ago. Apparently, that’s enough of a gift.” Jaxxon ducked his head.
“What is keeping you boys?” Jack leaned out of the passenger window.
“We are coming.” Jaxxon walked around the van and climbed into the driver’s seat, and Jack shuffled across into the middle of the bench seat, leaving a small spot for Freddy.
“It’s good that you are a slender man.” Jack patted him on the knee in a vaguely fatherly tone, if a touch had a tone. Jack had the same body shape as his son, and Freddy was filled with the settled notion that Jaxxon wouldn’t change much as he aged. There was no chemistry from Jack’s touch—he was similar to his son but an entirely different person obviously—only a steady sense of peaceful acceptance into the family. Would it be weird to call Jack Papa? Maybe one day.
“I have to stay thin for my job.” He probably didn’t, not now that he’d done this job for five seasons and was part of the team, but he liked being fit.
“And you are an athlete.”
“Retired.”
“All those drivers do seem very fit.”
Freddy grinned and turned towards Jack. “It’s necessary. Driving a race car is more than sitting down and steering.”
“You sound like you’ve had that argument a few times.”
He nodded. His father refused to understand that it took physical strength to have the stamina to concentrate for a whole race. “An S1 race takes a couple of hours, it’s a long time to stay at the limit.”
“You don’t need to convince me.” Jack directed Jaxxon along a street and into a driveway between huge warehouse buildings.
“Ray, the fruit guy is at the end.”
“He’s still there?” Jaxxon asked.
“You know Ray. He’s going die on that stall.” Fondness filled Jack’s tone, and Freddy felt like he was being introduced to a whole new world, where people liked each other and did business without being assholes to each other.
“Papa. Did you want Freddy to drive you here because Ray is an S1 fan?”
“Of course.”
“Does Ma even need apples?”
“She always needs apples for your favourite apple Danish.” Jack winked, his wide grin so similar to his son’s that it floored Freddy for a moment. He could see where Jaxxon got his ability to tease so well. Freddy swallowed. They didn’t need to trick him. He would happily have driven—to let himself be shown off—for this family who welcomed him in so easily.
“Stop the van. I’ll drive from here.” Hopefully he wouldn’t stall. It’d been years since he’d driven a standard manual transmission. Jaxxon stopped the van in the middle of the driveway and they both hopped out, swapping seats. Only Jack’s massive grin stopped Freddy from overthinking this. It was a vehicle. He used to be one of the world’s twenty best drivers. This should be simple.
He stalled the van with a lurch. “Fuck.”
“Maybe Jaxxon needs to give you some lessons and help you get your licence?” Jack elbowed him, and damn if it didn’t make Freddy feel like he was actually part of their loving family. He was going to melt with the niceness of being teased as if he belonged here. He had another go, and this time he managed to drive smoothly forward. Jack gave him directions and after a couple of hundred metres, they pulled up outside an open warehouse door with an older Black guy leaning against the doorframe. Freddy parked the van, and everyone piled out.
“Ray. I have a little surprise for you.” Jack waved in Freddy’s direction, and he walked around the van towards them. “This is Jaxxon’s Freddy.”
Holy hell. He’d never get tired of being introduced like that. Forever. Having someone say that he belonged to Jaxxon was absolute perfection. If his heart swelled any more today, it was going to explode out the front of his chest like a big loving alien. He held out his hand to Ray.
“Hi, I’m Freddy Hiptonstall. Pleased to meet you.”
Ray shook his hand. “I had your poster back in the day. Always hoped you’d win a championship.”
“So did I, Ray.” He shook his head. “Not the poster, obviously. That’d be vain even for me.”
Everyone’s laughter surrounded him like a warm hug, and he wished he could say how good it felt to be welcomed, and not because he was famous either.
“Will you take me for a drive?” Ray asked.
“Sure. What car do you have?” Freddy could drive him around this warehouse complex since it wasn’t technically a road.
“An ancient Mini.”
“One of the originals? Built here?”
“Yes.”
Freddy smiled. “It always makes me laugh that the guy who commissioned the Mini, the Chairman of the British Motor Company, was called Leonard Lord.” The British Motor Company was a merger between Austin and Morris in the fifties, but he was pretty sure Jaxxon’s family friend didn’t care for all that information on the history of his car.
“Why is that funny?” Jaxxon asked.
“He’s Chairman Lord, like title title.” Everyone looked at him oddly. “Never mind. Let’s see the car. What year?”
“1967 Mini Cooper S.”
“Oh, the rally model? This should be fun. Shall we squeeze these two in the back seat?”
Ray clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, the engine isn’t going to like it.”
“No, but I can make it fun without wrecking your car.” Freddy had driven a Mini once as promotion for Silverstone and the tiny car had loads of manoeuvrability, so it’d be fun to haul it around this carpark.
“Okay, but let’s get Ma’s apples first.” Jaxxon’s practicality grounded him.
“Apples first, then racing.” Ray laughed, and Freddy helped load the box of apples into the van.
Driving the car had been fun—especially the way Ray had cackled as he’d flung the car around a corner, tyres squealing—but dinner in the pub with Jaxxon’s parents was better. The four of them had a booth in the corner of the slightly run-down place with 1980s pop on the speaker system and paper coasters that had been reused too many times, all curled up at the edges with water stains on them. They’d ordered standard pub food, fish and chips with a pathetically small side salad. It was cosy. Jaxxon answered all his parent’s questions about work, and it gave Freddy a strong insight into where he’d gained his business acumen. Jaxxon’s parents had run a successful small business all their lives. Jaxxon’s job might be on a different scale with six hundred staff members and a multi-million-dollar budget, but the principles of business didn’t really change. When they all quizzed him about his job and his life and intentions with Jaxxon, his sense of belonging grew and grew, like a giant soap bubble that would burst one day leaving a film over everything.
“Thank you for taking Ray for a drive today. You will have made his year.” Jack opened the door to their flat above the bakery. He wasn’t sure how to answer; driving someone else’s car was a pretty easy way to make someone happy.
“I enjoyed it too.”
Rosie walked up the stairs first, welcoming Freddy into her house with a big grin. “You boys want to stay up with us and watch some telly?” The difference between Rosie and the vague memories of his tense, elegant, mother couldn’t be starker. His mother lived in America now, trading on her social status as a Duchess, with the need to be bothered with her children. He didn’t blame her for leaving his father; he wasn’t exactly pleasant. Freddy had been brought up by nannies, a situation that likely wouldn’t have been any different if she’d stayed. He’d much rather she wasn’t miserable, even if he had occasionally wished that she’d been there to step in between him and father when he was younger. The reality was such that she couldn’t have done much anyway.
“Okay.” Freddy shook off those old thoughts—he was a grown man now—just wanting to just hang out with this family forever and absorb the cosiness of them. He’d never imagined that a family could be like this with their adult son.
“Jaxxon, you bring your Papa a beer, he’s been working all day.”
“Yes Ma. You want your usual too?”
“Yes please.”
Freddy followed Jaxxon into the small kitchen. It was impeccably clean, but ancient, a 1950s relic but with a shiny new stove and dishwasher.
“I bought them new appliances when I got this promotion.”
“I’m surprised they let you.”
“I ordered them online and had them delivered so they had no choice.”
“Sneaky. Your parents are—”
“Proud. And I understand it too, but I wouldn’t have this job with all this money ... not like your amount of money ... but it’s a big amount for me, um, I wouldn’t have any of this if they hadn’t encouraged me to be my best. And a few nice appliances seem like nothing compared to that.”
“I understand. Your parents are amazing people. I’ve had the best day.”
Jaxxon flicked his head up, as if surprised by that, and bundled Freddy into a tight hug. “I’m so glad.”
“Just don’t expect the same warmth if you ever meet my family. AA tries but he’s a product of the system, you know, and His Grace is a distant fucker at best.” He buried his face against Jaxxon’s warm chest, wanting to hide there, before he lifted his head to look at Jaxxon’s soft expression. “Actually, let’s not think of them today. I don’t want to sully how great this has been by thinking about that.”
“Then stop thinking. Come and watch television with my parents.” Jaxxon didn’t let him go, though. He tucked his head under Jaxxon’s chin, breathing in the warm buttery familiar scent of his skin. Jaxxon always smelled a little bit like the bakery; like fresh bread and butter and sugar and spice. And now that he’d been here, he wanted to soak it all in, absorb Jaxxon and his family like a weirdo who wanted the one thing he’d never had. Family who loved him and accepted him, flaws and all. He knew he’d never have to perform for these people to be granted a grudging acceptance.
“Come on. Stop thinking.” Jaxxon stroked his back, and then handed him a small glass of spirits. “This is for Ma.” They walked into the small lounge, handing over the drinks to Jaxxon’s parents. Rosie patted the couch and he settled down beside her to watch whatever football game was on tonight. He didn’t even care what the game was, just snuggling in against her as if he were a child, and he bloody loved it.
Chapter 26
“Games over, lad. Bedtime.” Papa shook Jaxxon’s shoulder, and he woke with a funny snort that hopefully no one notice. Freddy was tucked up against Ma with a blanket thrown over his legs. He had his arms outstretched as if he were in the middle of a story and he’d paused, stuck.
“Let Freddy finish his story. I want to know about the milk story. He promised me embarrassment.”
Freddy chuckled. “I did not. I said it was ridiculous.”
“Come on then.” Jaxxon stretched out his legs.
“And yet you’d hardly started. Something boring about doing a promotion for a car, as if that wasn’t your whole job as a driver.” Ma teasing Freddy was beginning to be Jaxxon’s favourite part of this visit. The two of them were having so much fun together; he loved the way Freddy slotted right into his family with no judgement of their small house or anything that Jaxxon had been worried about. Having Freddy like his parents and their life meant more than he knew how to articulate. It wrapped around him like the blanket covering Freddy’s legs.
“Basically, someone in the social media team—”
“Sonia?” What he’d really wanted to ask was if it was Freddy’s stalker, but he couldn’t bring that up without derailing the whole conversation or breaking the confidence and trust Freddy had placed in him by telling him about the ordeal.
“Probably one of her team.” Freddy waved his hand as if to say it didn’t matter. “Anyway, we had to drive this car up and down pitlane between cones while holding a bowl of milk.”
“Milk?” Jaxxon asked.
“Yeah. And the film crew added a thickener to the milk, so it would look cooler when it slopped out of the bowl, you know, with the droplets sticking together and hanging in the air for a slow-mo shot before they landed on us.”
“Messy.”
“It was very messy. And basically pointless. If I’d been able to win by going fastest or keeping the most milk in the bowl, then it would’ve been more fun.”
“Are you that competitive for everything?” Jack asked.
Jaxxon laughed. “He’s a driver. Competition is the baseline setting.”
“I can’t argue with that.” He shrugged, then pulled out his phone and clicked through to something. “This is the final ad that they made.”
Jaxxon leaned over the back of the couch, next to his father, as the four of them stared at Freddy’s screen. Freddy sat in the passenger seat holding a bowl of milky liquid, while his teammate, Ricky Dee, drove. At first, Freddy held the bowl so it swayed with the cornering of the car, but when Ricky flicked the back end out to swing around the last cone, milk went everywhere. Freddy and Ricky’s laughter was a soundtrack underneath the narrator talking about the car’s handling.
“Oh, that’s gross.” Ma shook her head. “The poor cleaner. Imagine trying to get all that milk out of the fabric in those seats.”
Freddy’s face paled. “I never thought of that. I just thought you’d think it was funny to see me covered in milk splats.”
“It’s fine. We used to do stunts like this when I was in rally, and the people who detailed the cars afterwards were paid very well.” Jaxxon jumped in before Freddy—his Freddy—could castigate himself about his privilege. While it was gratifying to see him understand it, it didn’t need all the constant guilt. “Don’t feel guilty for doing your job; which was to sell the car.”
“Says someone who has never tried to clean milk out of fabric.” Ma grinned.
“Are you kidding me? Remember that time Jaxxon dropped his milkshake all over the carpet.”
Jaxxon glanced at his father. “Yeah, and all three of us cleaned it up because we are family, and Freddy is family too, so we can watch his video of being covered in milk and find it funny.”
“Darling boy. I’m only teasing him.”
“It’s okay, Jaxxon. I like being teased.” Freddy stood up, walked around the couch, and touched him on the spine. He wanted to lean into Freddy’s hand. “Let’s get your sleepy head to bed.”
“Good idea. Look after my boy, will you?” Ma grinned up at Freddy.
“I can’t believe you slept through most of the game!”
“It’s been a long season so far. I am quite tired.” He didn’t mean to justify himself to his parents.
Papa elbowed Freddy. “You should’ve seen Jaxxon when he was a small boy. He used to get so surly when he was tired. It was the cutest thing.”
“I’m sure Freddy doesn’t want to hear about me as a kid. Good night, Papa. Good night, Ma.” Jaxxon stood up straight, and Freddy pressed his hand harder against his spine.
“Maybe tomorrow.” Freddy traced a circle on his waist. “Come on, time for sleeping.”
Everyone said their good nights, and he walked the few steps down the hallway to his childhood bedroom. He always stayed here when he visited, but it wasn’t until he pushed open the door to see his single bed and poster-covered walls, that he wondered how this was going to work.
“Cosy.” Freddy wrapped his arms around Jaxxon’s waist and nudged him until they were in the room.
“I barely fit on my old bed. We aren’t going to ... how is this going to work?”
“It’s fine. We’ll make it work. Your parents are so nice. I wouldn’t want to insult them by going somewhere else.” Freddy stripped off his clothes and slid under the covers. He lay carefully on one edge of the slim bed, then patted the spot beside him. “Come on. There’s heaps of room.”
“If we cuddle up tight.”
Freddy’s grin was obscene. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Come here to me. I’ve had the absolute best day and I want to share it with you.” Freddy’s joy infused the air with a happiness that wrapped around Jaxxon and pushed away his tiredness. He stripped off and slid into bed with Freddy, lying on his back. His arm fell off the side of the bed, and Freddy had almost no room, so he rolled onto his side. “How’s that?”
“Incredibly cosy. We are going to be far too hot.”
“It is summer.”
“And you are a thermal emitter.”
Jaxxon grabbed the blankets and pulled them off, leaving only a sheet covering them. “This will be fine.”
