Perfect Strangers (Sebastian Vettel)

Prologue

Seb just couldn't handle the pressure any more. His stress levels were sky high and if he made it to the end of the season without telling Binotto what he thought of him it would be a miracle.

He felt like his life was spinning out of control and he just didn't know which way to turn. What was next for Sebastian Vettel? He didn't have a God damn clue.

He was a four time Formula 1 world champion. And he was without a drive. When he'd left Red Bull for Ferrari it was supposed to be the start of a beautiful partnership.

Things had started out ok but after Maurizio and Kimi had left, or rather had pushed out, it had turned into a living hell.

The new team Principal, Mattia Binotto, had disliked Seb from the start. He'd made it perfectly clear that Seb's new teammate, Charles Leclerc, was the new Golden Boy and Seb was on borrowed time at the Scuderia.

Then, at the start of the season, Mattia had dropped the bombshell, by telephone, that come December Seb's contract would be up and he would no longer be a Scuderia Ferrari driver.

Well, that had been the start of Seb's fall from grace. His confidence was knocked. His motivation at an all time low. Those factors, combined with the worst Ferrari he'd ever driven in his six seasons there, spelt disaster for Seb.

At least he had the support of his loving girlfriend,Natasha. After a shit weekend he could count on her to lift his spirits.

So here he was. The Hungarian Grand Prix had been yet another disaster for him and he was glad for the summer break. Four weeks of not having to see Binotto's face. Four weeks to try and decide whether he was going to retire altogether or whether he was going to accept the seat that had been offered to him by Lawrence Stroll. Racing Point were rebranding as the Aston Martin Formula 1 team and they wanted Seb to join them.

Owner Lawrence Stroll and Team Principal Otmar Szafnauer had faith in him. The trouble is he no longer had faith in himself.

He'd originally supposed to be flying home the day after the Grand Prix but he'd decided to leave that very evening. He wanted his own bed and he wanted Natasha.

It was nearly midnight when he pulled up on the drive outside. The house was in darkness. He slotted his key into the lock and let himself in.

He tiptoed up the stairs, not wanting to wake Natasha if she was sleeping. As he neared the top of the stairs he heard a voice cry out. He felt sick. No. She wouldn't! The squeaking sounds and the grunts became louder. He pushed open the bedroom door and found Natasha naked, riding on another man's cock.

She didn't notice him at first. She was too engrossed in fucking whoever the man was. He cleared his throat and if he hadn't been so angry he'd have found it funny how she jumped a mile. How fucking dare she bring another man to his house? To his bed!

"Seb, it's not what you're thinking."

"Oh I find it hard to believe it's anything else Natasha."

"Let me explain ."

"I don't want to know." He turned and walked briskly back down the stairs. He grabbed his suitcase from where he'd left it in the hallway and he walked out of the door.

He threw the case into the boot of his Alfa Romeo and he sped off down the drive. He didn't look back. He carried on until he reached the airport in Zurich. He decided to book a seat on the next available flight. It didn't matter where it was going. He wanted to disappear for the next four weeks.

He approached the desk and asked for a ticket on the next flight out. As he walked away with it in his hand he looked down and saw his destination. The United Kingdom.

He sent a text to Britta, to Antti and one to his parents telling them he need space and that he would be in touch shortly. Then he turned his phone off and slipped it into his pocket.

The boarding call went out for his flight. This was it. Sebastian Vettel was about to disappear.

***

Lucie Russell shut the front door behind her. Five minutes of peace at last. She loved Freddie to pieces. He was her world, but some days,like today, she just needed a break.

She looked out the window. It was another hot day. The UK was entering the third week of a heatwave. It was great for the hotel. They were pretty much all fully booked throughout August, but it was sucking all the energy out of her.

She had an hour before she was due to start work. She co-owned a small hotel on the Isle of Wight with her mother, Julia. It was just a small business but it was all theirs, and she loved it. Lucie managed it along with her assistant manager,Hope Collins, and Julia looked after Freddie whilst Lucie worked. She'd just collected him and taken him back to the house she shared with her boyfriend, Graham.

Freddie was Lucie's five, nearly six, year old son and the light of her life.  He looked nothing like his mother.  He was blonde, she was a brunette.  He was the exact image of his father in every way apart from his eyes. He and Lucie shared the same ice blue eyes. 

Every time Lucie looked at her son she was reminded of the man she had loved and lost.  Callum had never even known that Freddie was on the way when he'd been taken.

They'd only been married for six months, although they'd been together since they were fifteen. They were the golden couple.  The couple that everyone just knew would marry and have beautiful children.  Then, one January night a drunk driver had smashed into Callum's car and killed him instantly.

Lucie had wanted to die with him.  She felt like she had nothing to live for.  Her best friend,Joel, had kept her going through those early days. Then the day after Callum's funeral she'd found out that part of him had lived on inside her.

Eight months later she'd given birth to Freddie and from the minute she saw him she knew he would always be the most important man in her life. 

And since then she'd dedicated herself to being the best mum he could ever wish for, and to building up the business she and her mum had started together when Freddie had been a toddler. 

She'd never even looked at another man.  She didn't need one. No one could ever compare to Callum. He'd been her soul mate.   All she needed was Freddie. His love was unconditional.

                                 ***

Seb picked up the paperback atlas of the UK that he'd bought in some service station on the M25. He flicked through the pages,  trying to decide on a destination.  He had hired a Vauxhall Mokka, not wanting to draw attention to himself by driving anything more upmarket. 

He was trying to remember the name of a certain place but it eluded him. He remembered Jim, a mechanic of his from the Red Bull days, telling him about a holiday he'd had there  and what a beautiful place it was.   As he looked at each page he finally found it. That was it. The Isle of Wight.

He decided he was going to go there. He had no idea how  to get there.  He picked up the cheap burner phone he'd bought and googled it.  He'd need to book onto a car ferry.  He soon managed to do that and set off in the direction of Southampton.  He had no idea where he was going to stay when he got there but he figured he'd sort that out when he got there.

He'd even stay in a tent if he had to. He wanted to stay off the grid.  He needed to find himself again. And the Isle of Wight was where he was going to start.