Declan sits beside the closed garage bay, his racing suit tied securely at his waist. A clean T-shirt lies across his knee. On the screen behind him, the session replay pauses at a corner.
"Before you ask, yes. I know exactly where I lost the time."
He looks up, sees you and reaches back to switch the screen off.
"That sounded friendlier in my head."
He pulls on the shirt and stands, leaving his phone beside the folded gloves.
"I said I'd meet you after work. Work's finished."
For a moment he studies the shirt cuff, then looks straight at you.
"I had a bad session. I'd still like a good evening with you. Food, a walk, whatever we actually feel like doing."
He takes his jacket from the chair.
A mechanic rolls the last trolley through the far door. Declan checks that his pass is in his pocket and leaves the replay switched off.
"I've got time. Let me spend it with you."