Page 123 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
“How long my money’s going to last.”
“I’ll pay you.”
“I don’t want you to give me money.” Jonty pushed Devan’s hand off his knee.
“You’ll work for me for nothing? That’s very generous. Not sure HR would approve. Nor my boss.”
Jonty sighed, but hope flared in his chest.
“I’m going to work something out. I promise. Don’t worry about money.”
Words that could only come from someone with money.
“I’m going to call my friend and get your mother’s number,” Devan said.
Jonty’s pulse jumped. “I don’t want to talk to her on the phone.”
“I will. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Devan called his friend and Jonty curled his fists under his thighs.
“Good morning, Devan.”
“Morning Stan. I have a name and an address. I need the telephone number. Rosie Henley, Oaklands, Burton Road, Newcastle.”
“I’ll get back to you.”
“Thanks, Stan.”
Jonty huffed. “As easy as that.”
“Stan has his ways.”
BY THE TIME THEY WEREback at Shennan Sands, Stan had texted Devan with the number.
“You tell me when or if you want me to call her,” Devan said. “And what you want me to say.”
As Devan started to get out of the car, Jonty caught his arm. “Call her now. Let’s get it all done in one day. Not the seeing her but…” He took a deep breath. “Tell her you’re calling on my behalf and I want to see her, that I don’t want to cause any trouble, but I’d like to speak to her. See what she says. Do it on speaker. I’ll keep quiet.”
“Sure?”
“That I can keep quiet?”
Devan bit his lip. “I know you can’t keep quiet. I mean do you want me to call her?”
Jonty nodded. As he watched Devan tap in the number, he held his breath.
“Hello?”My mother’s voice?
“Hi. Is that Rosie Henley?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“My name’s Devan Smith. You don’t know me, but you know a friend of mine. Jonty Bloom.”
There was no answer. Jonty pressed his lips together so tightly that it hurt.
