“Here.” Jasfoup handed him the Bloodberry they'd spent so long in line to get. For having it such a short time, Jasfoup had certainly managed to fill it with apps. It looked exactly liked the old one, in fact. Right down to the scratch on the side where Lucy had dropped it.
“This is the same phone.” Harold showed him the scratch. “What happened to the new one?” He barely glanced at the FaceSpace Jasfoup had found. 'My Dead Relative' didn't interest him nearly as much as several hours in a cramped taxi cab with three demons, one of whom had apparently eaten a whole grocer's worth of Brussels sprouts. Never mind the near-reaping in the phone shop.
“It is the same phone. I told you they only allow us the one. I handed in the used version and they gave me the original back. Once the warranty catches up it reverts to the familiar which, I have to say, is a bit of a bugger because the X doesn't work.”
“Do you ever use the X?” Harold held back the smile. “You're not one for kisses, as I recall.”
“You try reaping Xavier Xuan Xao on the night before Xmas and tell me it's not inconvenient.” Jasfoup took his phone back and scrolled through several photographs of the recently dead. He showed Harold a picture of a deceased Chinese man. He recognised the Golden Plaice in Laverstone. “See?”
Harold pursed his lips. “I get the point.”