Page 73 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
“Left or right?” Jonty asked. “Or straight on if you want to get wet.”
“Is there a reason to pick one over the other?”
“I have it on good authority we’re more likely to spot the wonders of nature on the left.”
“Then left it is.”
They’d not been walking for long when Jonty nudged him. “Hey! Seals.”
Devan spotted a couple of black heads bobbing up and down in the water. “But no whales? Who can I complain to?”
“Me. I deal with all complaints in a courteous and professional manner.”
“I’m feeling let down that there are no whales.”
“Want me to teach you how to call them?”
“Er…no.”
“It’s easy. Listen.” Jonty opened his mouth and let out a series of deep humming pulses.
“That doesn’t sound the same as the song you sang in the hotel.”
“They were jerks, but I’ve practised this. It’s only the male whales that sing to attract mates.” He did it again for several seconds and then glared at Devan.
Devan got it. “You can stop now. It worked.”
Jonty grinned. “We’ll walk for a bit, then go up into the dunes and have a picnic. You’ll have to deal with the chicken. I’m squeamish.”
“What have I got to do? Hit it with the darts?”
“No darts. Only a dartboard. Eww. You have some strange ideas.”
“What have you brought to eat?”
“What would you like me to have brought to eat?”
“A baguette with Parma ham, spinach, basil, pesto and mozzarella. Scones, jam and clotted cream. Cheese straws and a couple of cold beers.”
“Crisps?”
“Yep, and crisps.”
“Phew. I got something right. But probably the wrong flavour. Though everyone likes Marmite crisps, don’t they? Now we’re talking about food, I’m hungry.” Jonty tugged him off the beach and up into the dunes. “We need a sheltered spot with no snakes.”
“There are snakes?”
“I’ve never seen one here, but yeah, they do slither around the dunes. I’m not a fan of snakes. If I freak out, it’s either because I’ve seen an enormous cock or a tiny snake. With one I’ll get over the shock fast, with the other I won’t.”
Devan laughed. “Remember what you were saying about unrealistic expectations?”
“My expectations are never unrealistic.”
Devan looked around the spot they’d reached. It seemed sheltered. “Is here okay?”
“Fine.” Jonty opened his bag and took out a lightweight groundsheet. He spread it out so that it rested partly on an upslope they could lean against, then sat on it.
Devan joined him. It was warm out of the wind and he took off his jacket, rolled it up and lay back with it under his head.
