Page 124 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
“Jonty wants to see you. He doesn’t intend to cause trouble, but he’d really like to meet you.”
Jonty exhaled as he heard her give a heavy sigh. “Is he with you now?”
Jonty shook his head.
“No,” Devan said.
“Tell him I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Something crumpled inside him then. The last tiny hope… He’d thought…Oh God.
“You might think it isn’t a good idea for you.” Devan cupped Jonty’s chin and stared into his eyes as he stroked his face, running his finger over his bitten lip. “You don’t need to see him. He gets that. Otherwise you’d have been to see him before now or made some effort to contact him. He’s not been hiding. This isn’t for you. It’s for him. He’s waited seventeen years for you to come back for him. He’s still waiting… Please let him have this.”
There was such a long pause, Jonty wondered if she was still there.
“Ten o’clock on Monday. The Grand Hotel in Gosforth Park, Newcastle. I’ll be sitting in the lobby.”
She ended the call.
Jonty collapsed like a deflating balloon. Devan got out of the car, came round to his side, pulled him out and hugged him.
“Shouldn’t she have said what she’d be wearing?” Jonty blurted. “A pillbox hat or a veil? I could have worn my Darth Vader mask. I still could.”
“It’s okay.” Devan held him tight.
Devan was breaking his world, but that was fine as long as he helped rebuild it. Bed would be a good start. Once they were naked and entwined with each other, Jonty would have trouble remembering his own name. He tugged Devan towards the door. But the moment they were inside, Jonty stopped dead.
“Someone’s been in here.”
“How do you know?” Devan looked around.
“There’s sand on the floor. Right there.” Not a foot print, but as if sand had come off the bottom of a shoe.
“Maybe we did it. We were in and out carrying stuff.”
“No,” Jonty whispered. “I’d have noticed. I notice things like that. Vincent’s anal about sand in the hotel reception. And after last night…”
“Should we call the police?”
“And tell them there’s sand in a beachfront property?” Jonty shook his head. “Let’s see if anything’s been disturbed.”
He took one step and Devan pulled him back. “We stay together, but you can walk in front of me.”
Jonty laughed. He knew Devan thought the sand had been there when they left, but it hadn’t. It didn’t take them long to check every room and all their belongings.
“Oh God, did they take your Victoria’s Secret Banded Brazilian panties? Or the very sexy sheer cut-out thong?” Jonty mock-wailed, then yipped as he opened the drawer next to the bed. “Ooh, they’ve left lube and condoms! What if they pricked holes in them? I might get pregnant.”
“I thought you were worried?”
“I am. Humour is my defence mechanism.”
Neither of them thought anything was missing or disturbed. There was no sign that anyone had found a way into the house, no open windows, no more sand, no odd scent, nothing. And yet…
“I’m not wrong,” Jonty whispered.
“I’ll call the letting agent and you can listen in.” Devan took out his phone. “Hi. This is Devan Smith. We’re renting the house at Shennan Sands.”
“Oh yes, Mr Smith. How can I help you?”
