Page 39 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
“Bad luck to be caught in a rip,” the woman said. “We have more call outs because of rips than for any other reason.”
Devan was drawn into a conversation about the sea and kiteboarding and found to his surprise that he was enjoying himself.
“Ever thought about joining as a crew member?” Brian asked.
“I’m from London. I don’t even live near the Thames. But if I had a home near the coast, I’d think about it. You guys do a great job.” He pushed to his feet. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thanks again for the rescue.”
“Thanks for the twenty-thousand pounds,” Brian said.
“Bloody hell,” said one of the men.
“Wow.” The woman held out her hand. “Thank you!”
“A donation of twenty thousand was worth not eating the meal my wife had made when the pager went off,” Jake said.
“I’d have walked away from my wife’s cooking for a couple of quid,” another said.
They all laughed.
Devan followed Brian out of the kitchen and saw Jonty standing there holding two packs of doughnuts. Pointless denying the twist in his gut was down to anything other than the guy in front of him. He looked so young. Too young. Devan swallowed hard.
Jonty glanced at him, then turned to Brian. “I bought these to say thank you for yesterday.”
Brian took the doughnuts. “We’ll be fighting over these. It’s good of you to bring them. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, thanks for the rescue. Bye.” Jonty turned and walked out.
“Wait for me,” Devan called.
“Thanks again for the donation,” Brian said.
“You’re welcome.” Devan shook Brian’s hand.
When he emerged, there was no sign of Jonty. Devan was disappointed right until he glanced across the road and saw Jonty leaning against the wall opposite, hands in the pockets of his blue hoody, his black skinny jeans ripped at the knees, a backpack at his feet.
“Need a lift?” Devan asked as he reached him.
“I’m going for a walk.”
“Can I come?”
The fleeting look of surprise on Jonty’s face hit Devan hard.
“Do you really want to?”
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”
Jonty pulled his backpack onto his shoulder. “Come on then.”
They set off up the hill toward the road Devan had driven down.
“It’s twenty miles there, twenty back. Can you manage that?” Jonty asked.
Shit.“Er…”
“You are so gullible. A six-mile round trip.”
“Er…”
