He turns on me as soon as we’re through the front door at home. His voice is no longer the whisper it was in the station.
He tells me I don’t understand. I’m notlistening. I’ve never seen him like this, as if something inside were bursting to come out.
“I don’t think you really appreciate what is going on here, Erin, do you? What’s actually happening? I don’t have ajobanymore. There is nomoneyfor any of this. And I can’t get another job, no one is hiring. My world is not like it is inthe artsor your film school or whatever. I can’t just jump ship and do something else for a living! I’m an investment banker. That’s what I do. I’m not trained to do anything else. And even if I was, it doesn’t matter. I can’t just set up my own bank or, I don’t know, collaborate on a postmodern banking project or whatever the fuck. I’m not like you. I don’t come from the same place you do. I spent my whole life getting to where I am now.My whole life.Do you know how hard that was? People who went to my high school work in petrol stations, Erin! Do you understand that? They live in council flats and stack fucking supermarket shelves. I will not go back to that. I will not let that happen. But I don’t have a backup. I don’t have family friends in publishing or journalism or fucking wine-making. I’ve got a retired mum and dad in East Riding who are both going to need looking after before too long. I’ve got a total of eighty grand in savings and the rest tied up in this house. And now we’re trying to havea baby. I had a real job. I’ve lost it, and we are screwed. Because unfortunately we don’t all have the luxury of being paid for, like you do!”
I feel the bile rise up inside me. I’ve had enough. Enough of this for today.
“Fuck you, Mark! You’re being a fucking arsehole. When have you ever paid for me? When? What am I, a fucking hooker?”
This was supposed to be a lovely day.
“No, Erin, no, you’re not, sadly. Because if you were you’d shut the fuck up about now.”
My heart skips a beat in my chest. Fuck. Mark has gone, just like that, and a stranger is standing in my living room. Fucking hell. My breathing becomes shallow—God. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, Erin. Just breathe.I feel the prickle behind my eyes.
Mark looks at me.
He mutters something inaudible, then turns away and looks out the window.
I sit down in silence.
“I can’t believe you just said that, Mark,” I whisper.
I know I should let it go but—no, no, I shouldn’t let it go. Fuck that! I have to marry this man in three weeks. If this is going to be the rest of my life from now on, I want to bloody know.
“Mark…”
“What, Erin! What do you think we’re going to do after the wedding? If we do have kids? What do you think is going to happen? My job pays foreverything.It paid for this house.”
“No, Mark. No! We both pay for it! I put all of my savings into that deposit too. Everything I had,” I blurt out, my voice rising to meet his.
“Okay, great, that’s great, Erin. You put your money in too. But you can’t pay all the mortgage on your salary, can you? I mean, we don’t live in a one-bed flat in Peckham, do we? There’s absolutely no way you can cover the mortgage on your own with what you earn. I don’t mean to upset you, Erin, but you’re just not listening. We’re going to have to sell the house. Obviously!”
Sell it? Oh my God. I must look terrified, because he nods now, satisfied.
“I don’t think you’ve really thought about this at all, have you? Because if you had, then honestly, Erin, you’d be just as worried about it as I am. We are going to go under.”
Oh my God. I am silent. I’ve been an idiot. I see that now. This hurts. None of what he’s saying had occurred to me. I hadn’t thought about the fact that all our plans might simply fall through. That he just might not get another good job at all.
He’s right. No wonder he’s so angry. He’s been dealing with this alone. And I’ve been flouncing around acting as if…But then I remember. It doesn’t have to be like that. Like Caro said, he could just do something else.
“But, Mark, you can get another job! Any job! You’ve got a great résumé, can’t you just—”
“No, Erin,” he interrupts, wearily. “It doesn’t work like that. What the fuck else am I going to do? All I am qualified to do is price and sell bonds, nothing else. Unless you’re suggesting I work in a bar?”
“Mark, please. I’m just trying to help! Okay! I don’t know exactly how your industry works, do I? I just want to be in this together, so please stop saying I don’tunderstand and just explain it to me.Please.” I know I sound like a petulant child but I don’t know what else to say.
He sags down on the sofa opposite me, drained. His shoulders hunched. An impasse.
We sit in the silence, the low hum of traffic and wind through the trees in the garden just audible.
I get up and go over to sit next to him. I reach out and touch his back gently with my hand. He doesn’t flinch away, so I start to rub it softly with my palm. Soothing him, stroking his warm back through the starched cotton shirt. He lets me.
“Mark?” I say tentatively.
“It’s okay if we sell this place,” I continue. “It’s okay. It’ll be sad, because I like it here. But I don’t care where we live. I just want you. You anywhere. Under a bridge. In a tent. Just you. And we don’t need to have kids straightaway, if it’s the wrong time. And listen, I know you’d hate to do a different job, but it wouldn’t bother me what you did, as long as you were happy. I mean, I wouldn’t think any differently about you. You’re just you. I never loved you for money or anything like that. It’s nice to have it, sure, but I just want to be with you. We can even live with your mum and dad in East Riding if you want?”
He lifts his eyes to me. Smiles in spite of himself.
