Page 17 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
JONTY PADLOCKED HIS BIKE ATthe back of Mike’s Sports Shop, which adjoined the beach car park, and went inside.
“Jonty!” Aussie Mike gave him a high five. “How are you, mate?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really? I’ve not seen much of you.”
Jonty shrugged. “Busy. But I can’t resist a sea like this. I’m surprised it’s not crowded out there.”
“Kids are back at school and it’s the middle of the day. Most people are at work. Your wetsuit’s in the locker. I took it home with mine the other day and gave them a bath.”
“Did you get in with them and soap them up, you kinky bastard?”
Mike snorted.
“Thanks. I do appreciate it, even if I’m going to have nightmares now. You wrestling with rubber.” He mock-shuddered.
“Not funny. Watch for rips, today.”
“Yes, Dad.”
“I mean it. I have this feeling. The week after the lifeguards stand down always makes me edgy.”
“I’ll be a good boy and watch for rips, Daddy. I promise.”
“You are such a little shit!”
Mike was only in his thirties and once Jonty had discovered he hated being called Daddy… Well, he was fair game. He and Jonty had had a short-lived thing, lasting a couple of months, once upon a time, long, long ago. More friends with benefits than anything else. It had never felt quite right. Jonty had bought his second-hand board from Mike at a good price and Mike got access to a mighty fine arse and a talented mouth. But Mike was now in a long-term relationship with a geography teacher called Willis. Jonty and Mike were better friends than they’d ever been lovers, though he knew Mike worried about him, knew how much he missed Tay, because Mike missed him too. Everyone loved Tay.
Jonty stored his wetsuit and board at Mike’s in return for giving occasional surfing lessons at busy times. Mostly during the school holidays. Jonty would have loved to do it full time, but it was seasonal work, largely dependent on sea conditions, and even worse—it paid peanuts. Nor was it a career that would go anywhere.
What do youwantto do with your life? Isn’t it time you decided?
Tay stood leaning against the wall of the back room as Jonty searched for his wetsuit.
I can’t leave Alnwick, let alone Northumberland.Jonty’s heart thumped hard at the thought.
Yeah, you can. You can go anywhere. Do anything. Be anyone.
Not while you’re here.
I’m dead.
You’re not fucking dead.
I’m not the only reason you won’t move. But you need to.
Jonty chewed his lip, turned his back on Tay, and changed into his wetsuit.
Mike was holding a plate with a slice of buttered toast when Jonty emerged.
“You’re too thin.” Mike offered him the plate.
“Is there such a thing?” Jonty ate the toast in a few bites. “Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked to get this body? The hours at the gym, not eating chocolate, denying myself pleasure after pleasure?”
“You wouldn’t know a gym if it bit you on the arse, and the idea of you parting company with chocolate or denying yourself pleasure…” Mike snorted. “How are you really doing, mate?”
Jonty knew what Mike was asking. If he’d got over what had happened to Tay, if he’d stopped thinking about Brad, if he was dating. “I’m fine.”
