BLAKE COX is 22 and is portrayed by JOHN BOYEGA.
Occupation: Social media staffer for The Independent; Informant for the police
The first time Blake flew on an airplane, across the long stretch of the Atlantic Ocean, he was just over fifteen weeks old, snuggly strapped onto his father’s chest as he trekked through JFK to reunite with his mother. She was late, and she would be late every time after that. In fact, by the age of six, Blake knew that was what he had to expect when he flew to New York on holiday, to spend a few days or weeks with the woman who gave birth to him but who he barely could pick out of a crowd.
So it was just Blake and his dad, which felt right somehow, but maybe it was because Blake never knew differently. Well, he knew that his little two-person family was different, because all of his friends who had mums lived in the same country as them, but then again, none of his friends got to wear their muddy trainers in the house and eat bacon sandwiches for every meal if they wanted to. And nobody else got to spend the weekends in The Independent’s offices, scribbling on the huge white boards that lined the conference rooms or watching rugby on a giant flat screen TV. And sometimes, when Blake’s dad came home far later than he promised or had to skip his rugby games at the very last minute, leaving Blake to scramble to find a ride home since he wasn’t allowed to take the Tube by himself since it was too dangerous, Blake had to bite back that little voice inside of him that wondered if maybe life would be easier if he just went to America for university.
Of course, Blake did not go, although he secretly applied to NYU without his father finding out, hiding the acceptance letter under his pillow until the deadline had passed and his A-Levels landed him a place at Bath. It was only two hours or so by car, he told his dad as consolation, neglecting to mention, of course, that two hours was nothing compared to a transatlantic flight. And they didn’t have rugby, not properly at least, in the States.
Despite the distance, Blake still found himself in London seemingly more often than he would have guessed. At first, he told himself it was because the food in Bath proper was bland and boring and that the cinema near the university was always a week or two behind. And then it became an excuse to hang around the office and beg out a summer internship that kept getting renewed. And what was supposed to be a summer gig turned into driving back in his tiny car Thursday nights and working through until Sunday afternoon for a travel stipend and a bit of what his dad described as “spending money” that Blake spent far too often on tickets to attend local rugby clinics and pay for expensive gym passes.
And then, his knee blew out in a bad tackle, meniscus tearing as Blake fought to stay on his feet. Somehow, he managed to get rid of the ball, to win the scrimmage, not that it mattered after nearly six months of physical therapy still left his leg aching after a hard run or sharp turn. And even if his knee did heal completely, his dad made it clear: no more rugby beyond a touch game here or there.
Blake knew the job at The Independent, straight after graduation without even having to give an interview, was because of his dad, a way of cheering him up. It was supposed to be a gift, and Blake tried to treat it that way. After all, he even had his own desk, albeit a small one that barely could fit a spare chair, and he was the only one of his mates who could sort of balance the cost of a non-shitty apartment and paying off student debts. It was a good job, they said, perfect for a bright young guy who was quick-witted and up for a pun. They all wished they could get paid to muck about on social media all day, instead of working as receptionists or bank tellers. Blake didn’t want to hurt their feelings, so he would nod along, telling himself, and almost believing it, that soon he would really come into his own.
There was a touch rugby league in the park, mostly cops who played to let off energy, and Blake found himself joining them, grabbing a pint and a burger on the weekends, relaxing enough after one pint became two became three, to mention the juicy gossip he’d heard at work. It was accidental at first, just a slip of the tongue or two, but at a certain point, it became habitual. Friends were allowed to chat about work, after all. So what if sometimes he’d let information about a source or a breaking news story slip? It’s not like helping the police out a bit would hurt anyone.
+ ambitious, funny, introverted, inquisitive, optimistic
- reckless, stubborn, snarky, disloyal, indecisive
Blake Cox is played by Catherine at EST.
