He lay down and on his stomach, to give his back a bit of a tan.
“You should go to Sydney if you can,” said Graeme. “And the south coast of New South Wales. It's lovely. Glorious beaches, clean and empty.”
“Better to go with someone. One would get lonely otherwise.” Graeme noticed that Jason said 'wonn' not 'wunn'.
“You don't have anyone? Someone as handsome and well-built as you?”
Jason looked away. “No. No one.”
“Ah.” Graeme was tactfully silent.
“Anyway, I must save some money. I don't have much.” Well, that wasn't true, was it? he reflected. I have a fortune in my trust account, I have the flat in London, the cottage, my shares. But that was all past, over, done with. He wondered what the trustees would do with the money. Mr Ledwitch, such a desiccated and archetypal family lawyer, the elegant pin-stripes he wore dusty and respectable even when they were new. He'd always been kind to Jason when Jason had been a boy. Jason's uncle Ted, inclined to bluster and lecture, but also very fond of Jason. Jason's father.
What would they do?
Not my problem, he thought.