Page 57 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
I don’t do the lottery.
The pain of what had happened to Tay hurt almost as much as if Jonty had been the one who’d fallen. He took hold of Tay’s hand. “I sent Devan a dick pic today. Not mine, obviously.”
Ha ha. He’d have run for the hills.
“He’s going to run for the hills anyway. He’s up here to get over a broken heart and I think he hopes that fucking me will help.”
Help him, but not you.
“Maybe itwillhelp me.”
Can you remember what to do? What goes where?
Barely.
Jonty told Tay what had happened that day. Every so often, Tay made a comment. Yeah, well, Jonty made the comment that he was pretty sure Tay would have made had he been able to. Tay couldn’t do much of anything apart from breathe without assistance. His brain had reacted to the severe trauma by shutting down and the longer he stayed like this, the less likely it was that he would wake.
“Devan’s going to spend the day with me tomorrow. I dunno what he wants to do yet. I gave him a choice of Harry Potter, the Chillingham herd, riding on Bamburgh beach, boat trip or surfing. Can you think of anything else? Apart from investigating doggy style, reverse cowboy, pirate’s bounty, arch, or bumper cars?”
What the hell?
“Sexual positions. I looked them up. I hadn’t heard of some of them.”
How about Hadrian’s wall? Dunstanburgh Castle? Holy Island? The poison garden at Alnwick? Pick a few leaves of something for me and stuff them in the feeding tube. Or stay in bed all day and play at being pirates. I know which one you’d go for if you had the choice.
“And you wouldn’t? With a woman, obviously.”
Matilda.
“Very cute.”
Gorgeous.
Tay’s newish girlfriend had stopped coming to see him within a couple of weeks of him going into hospital. Too distressing. Right. Gave her nightmares. Course it did. No one expected her to wait for him to wake up. They’d only been on a few dates, but she could still have visited, especially in the early days. Jonty was sad because Tay had rarely been out with anyone and no relationship had lasted more than a few weeks.
“You think Devan would have his ex back if he grovelled enough?”
What do you think?
“He went out with him for two years, but finding him in bed with his brother… I’m not sure there’s any way back from that.”
Probably not, but maybe he’d like to shove his brother’s face in it by taking him back.
“Maybe.” Jonty wished he hadn’t put that thought into Tay’s mouth. “So how are you? Fancy waking up now? You’re wearing your mum and dad out.”
I feel like it’s when I’m surfing and get pushed to the bottom of the sea, but when I try to get to the surface, I can’t.
At least that was what Jonty imagined it must be like. “Try harder.” He squeezed Tay’s fingers. “Now you squeeze mine.”
Nothing. There never was, though Jonty’s mum said he’d responded to her. Jonty wasn’t religious, but he’d done a lot of praying, just in case. He figured if he wasn’t asking for himself then maybe a prayer might get answered.
Jonty sat and talked and talked. He suspected the reason he saw Tay around sometimes in the hotel and even on his surfboard or bike, was because of how much he missed him. He didn’t have anyone else to talk to. Tay had been the best friend he’d ever had.
He didn’t know how Tay’s parents coped. When the hospital had made it clear that there was nothing more they could do, Mr and Mrs Robertson had brought Tay home rather than letting him be sent to an old people’s place. They’d brought him back because they loved him, because he was still their son and they wanted him near them, but he gave nothing in return. No communication. No affection.
I’m a drain on their lives.
“They love you.”
