Page 58 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
But maybe he wasn’t coming back from this. His mother thought there was some part of Tay that recognised their voices, but it was too tempting to persuade yourself that Tay turning his head toward you when you said something was a positive response. His mother played music Tay would have hated, trying to get a reaction, and she said she sometimes did. Jonty hoped Tay was lost in a world of his imagination, living the dream, surfing the best waves, fucking beautiful girls, eating whatever he fancied. Though online research suggested that wasn’t likely, it wassomething Jonty wished for.
Tay’s mother brought him a cup of coffee and after he’d drunk it, Jonty decided to go home. He kissed Tay on the forehead, then the lips. “Going to thump me for that?”
Not a flicker. But as he walked away, Tay moaned. Jonty swivelled round to see Tay looking at him. Then his eyes closed. Something or nothing?
“You like that kiss?” Jonty asked. “Like another?”
There was no response. Jonty didn’t kiss him again.
He knocked on the lounge door and Tay’s mother pulled it open. Jonty handed her the empty coffee mug. “I need to be going now.”
“Thank you for coming, Jonty,” Tay’s mother said. “It means a lot to me.”
He rode home with his heart a heavy weight in his chest.
WHEN JONTY PUSHED OPEN HISdoor, it caught on something and he had to give the door a hard shove to get it to fully open. As he wheeled his bike inside, he saw a Jiffy bag lying on the mat, spotted the label had been typed, and his mouth went dry. He closed and locked the door, propped his bike in place on the stairs and gingerly poked the bag before he picked it up. It wasn’t heavy and it felt squishy. There was no stamp so it hadn’t been delivered by the postman, but then Brad knew where he lived.
Jonty carried it upstairs and put it on the kitchen counter next to the sink. It was a reasonable assumption that this was anothergiftfrom Brad.
How many more parcels are you going to get before you do something about it?
I’m not going to open it.
Go to the police.
I went to the police.
He took off his helmet and set it aside along with his backpack. Jonty told himself to throw the package away without opening it, though he wasn’t sure he could. He walked away from it twice, then went back and cut the top open with scissors. When he peeked inside and the smell hit him, he gagged. Used condoms?What the fuck, Brad?Jonty folded the top over and put the packet inside a plastic bag and tied the top tightly.Bloody hell.He grabbed the bag of other things he’d been sent, and put them and the condoms inside another bag before he put it in his backpack.
Once he had his helmet back on, he clattered downstairs, opened the door so he could wheel out his bike and Brad stepped in front of him. Jonty slammed the door and leaned back against it, his heart pounding.
“Did you get my gift, Jonty?” Brad’s voice was quite clear even through the door. “All my gifts? This last one is special, because I was thinking of you every time I jacked off. I saved my come for you. I know how much you love it.”
Don’t talk to him.
Jonty turned to face the door. “Fuck off,” he yelled.
“That’s not nice.”
“Fuck the hell off. Is that better?”
Brad chuckled.
“Leave me alone.” Jonty heard the catch in his voice and bit back his groan.
“Give me another chance.”
“Go away.”
“Not going to happen, Jonty. I’ve not finished with you yet.”
Jonty crept back upstairs and took out his phone. He pressed 1-0-1.
“Alnwick police. Name and address please.”
Jonty told him.
“How can I help you?”
