Page 122 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
“I don’t think so.”
“Pete died. Run over by a guy they were trying to arrest and dragged under the car. Your dad blamed himself. He saw the car coming and threw himself aside and… Pete died in his arms and it screwed up your dad’s head. He drank. Didn’t think he deserved to be happy.”
“And that I didn’t either?”
“He never told me he’d hit you. Hedidtell me he hit your mother. He’s damaged, Jonty. His head’s not right. I’m sorry he wasn’t a better dad. I’m sorry you came all this way for him to lash out at you like that. There isn’t any money, by the way.”
“If there was, I wouldn’t take it. Thank you for looking after him.”
Jonty didn’t say another word until they were back in the car. “Well, that was fun.”
“I’m fucking speechless.”
“You think he had PTSD after his partner died?”
“It’s not an excuse, Jonty.”
“He bottled it all up and lost it when his shell cracked. I don’t know whether I’m glad Tamsin told me or not.”
“Don’t you dare feel guilty. You were a kid. He failed as a father. I can’t believe you came out so…intact.”
Jonty smiled. “I’m decent, kind and sensitive, am I? You couldn’t have added sexy and hot with a beautiful arse?”
“I should have done, sorry.”
“Good.”
“I don’t think you should believe what he said about your mother not wanting to take you in after he was arrested.”
“Except if she didn’t want me at eight, why would she want me at fifteen?”
“He gave us her address anyway.”
“Only because he knows I’m not going to like what I find. He gave it up too easily.”
“You don’t have to do anything. But turning up on her doorstep isn’t a good idea. Let’s go back.”
“It’s okay,” Jonty said.
“What’s okay?”
“You’re feeling bad that you ever gave me a stick and told me to poke that hole. You couldn’t have known what would slither out. A stinking shower of shit.”
Devan glanced at him and gave a short laugh. “Maybe it should have stayed unfinished business.”
“No, it needed ending. I already knew my father despised me. Him knowing he’s dying hasn’t changed his mind. Why would it? He’ll never see what a prick he’s been. That’s fine. I don’t need to give him another thought and I won’t. Well, it was never about him but about my mother. Even though I said I didn’t want to know where she lived, he knew I did. Except now I’m not sure I do.”
“Have I made matters worse? Are you wondering if shedidrefuse to take you?”
“You don’t think I questioned whether Social Services had told me the truth when they took me away from my father? Easier to tell a damaged boy a kind lie, that they couldn’t find his mother, than tell him she didn’t want him, even for the single year he’d need to be in care. One year and I would have been able to live on my own. That was all I wanted. One fucking year somewhere safe and I’d work hard at school, take my exams and have someone to go back home to who cared how my day had gone.”
“Would you have liked to do A levels? Go to college or uni?”
“No point thinking about something I couldn’t make happen.”
Jonty wanted to ask more about the job that Devan had mentioned, but he wanted Devan to bring it up. He wasn’t sure he could afford to not look for work for the month Devan had rented the cottage, then end up with nothing if—when he fucked off back to London.
Devan slid his hand onto Jonty’s knee. “When you’re quiet for any length of time, I imagine your mind darting from one thought to another. What are you worrying about now?”
