Something in the Water(74)
“Okay.” I nod, reluctantly.
“Good. Drop the Holli storyline, drop it from the doc, stop the research entirely, distance yourself, distance us.” There’s finality to it. He’s so clear about this being the solution. The last I’d heard was that Andy, and SO15, now had CCTV footage of Holli and Ash leaving the Istanbul airport and boarding a bus to Gaziantep, a small Turkish village near the Syrian border. It’s all gotten very serious.
“Consider it dropped.” I plop down on the sofa opposite him. My brain is whirring. I’ll come back to Holli once our situation has settled down. But something doesn’t quite fit in my mind. I don’t agree about Patrick being linked to DCI Foster. I don’t think the man I met today had anything to do with the police. I can’t shake the feeling that what happened today is because of the bag. That someone did come to our home. Even if they didn’t take that picture, I think they were here. No matter what Mark says. Yeah, I’m aware of how paranoid that sounds. Maybe the plane people know we’re not dead. And now maybe they know we still have the diamonds and the phone in our home. It’s true that we’re still alive, but maybe they’re just taking their time. Working out the best way to do it. I think about the Sharpes; they took their time with the Sharpes. Worked out a safe way to get rid of them. Because they needed to make their deaths look like an accident. But then again, maybe what happened to the Sharpes was just an accident. Mark seems convinced it was.
Later that night, before bed, Mark sits on the edge of the bathtub watching me while I brush my teeth, a single sock in his hand. I can tell he wants to say something but he’s having trouble putting it into words. He takes a breath.
“Honey, I’m worried now. And please don’t take this the wrong way, you know how much I love you, but I think you might be getting a little bit overwhelmed by all of this. That photo business today and the answerphone. Erin, you know no one is coming for us, right, honey? No one is watching us except the police. And you are refusing to acknowledge how dangerous that is. This Patrick guy today. You need to stop doing things that might attract attention from now on, sweetheart. Will you promise me that, Erin? I need you to stop doing things that the police might notice. We’re sailing close to the wind here already.” He looks at me, softly. I feel foolish and so guilty about the things I haven’t told him.
He’s worried about me. He’s worried about us. He continues, “You asked me before what I thought we should do about the diamonds, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You’re not going to like it, I know, but I think we should dump them. Just get rid of them. This is getting crazy. We should cut our losses, stop trying to sell them, and just dump them somewhere. I don’t think it’s worth the risk we’re running right now. We already have the other money, Erin. We’re good. We have enough. We should stop.”
Something bubbles up inside me when he says this. I don’t know why, but I’m annoyed with him. It’s the first time I’ve ever really been frustrated by something Mark has said or done. Dump the diamonds? Why would we do that? We’ve come this far. What about his business, his plans, our plans? He was so concerned about our finances before, why isn’t he anymore? What we’ve got in Switzerland won’t last forever; we’ll need the diamond money too, to get his company up and running and keep all of this going. We could just store the diamonds somewhere, couldn’t we? Why would we dump them? But then, realistically, I know there’ll never be a later date when we can magically find an easier way to sell them. And once we have a child we won’t be able to take any risks at all. Either we try to sell them now or it’ll be too late.
I look at him in his boxers, the sock still dangling from his hand. I love him so much. He is right, it is dangerous, but I don’t want to just give up. Not after everything he’s been through in the past couple of months. And what if, God forbid, his new business falls through like all those job offers that never seemed to materialize. No, we need to keep going. But…cautiously.
“All right, yes, I see your point of view, Mark. I do, but can we please try one last thing? I’ll come up with something, okay? Something safe. Just give me a few more days. I really think I can make something work. I do. Isn’t that a better outcome overall, if we get the money from the stones too?” I try to say it gently, calmly, but I’m not calm. To give up now would make no sense at all.
He holds my gaze for a beat, then looks away. He’s disappointed, again. He tries to hide it but I saw the flicker of it in his eyes. I’ve let him down, again.
“Fine,” he concedes. “But that’s it, all right? If this doesn’t work, Erin, you’ll stop? Please don’t take it any further, honey. Don’t keep pushing.” He doesn’t look at me then, he just stands and walks to the bathroom door. Distant. Alone. I feel like this is the closest we’ve got to an honest conversation for a while and it hasn’t brought us any closer together. A rift has opened between us. The more I tell him, the wider it will get. He knows about Andy now, he knows about Holli, he knows about the man outside the prison, Patrick. I can’t just let him walk away. I need to bring us back together; I need to share a bit more of myself.
“Mark. Do you really think they’re not looking for us?” I blurt out. He turns back, surprised.
“Who, honey?” He looks confused.