Ronan lowered the gun. ‘Do it. Don’t say I never did anything for you. And remember why you’re in this mess in the first place. Your son murdered my brother, and then, then, you threw away his body and our money. Don’t you forget that.’
‘I won’t. Thank you. Just give me a few days, and—’
‘Twenty-four hours.’
‘What?’
‘You’ve got until tomorrow night. I’m not waiting any longer for my money.’
‘One day? I can’t possibly—’
‘No more negotiations, Scott. I’m being more than generous as it is, and you’re getting on my nerves. I’ll call you tomorrow to arrange a meet. Now get out of my face.’
‘Please, I—’
But Ronan was already turning and walking away, picking up the envelope and torch, disappearing into the black shadows beneath the tree.
When Scott got home, he moved as silently as he could. He wanted to shower, to remove the odours of sweat and cow dung that were clinging to him, but he didn’t want to wake the others.
His family. His precious wife and son.
He had done this for them.
Done it? This wasn’t over. Not yet. Another long fearful day lay ahead.
He doubted he would sleep, but he crept into the bedroom and stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed, if only to be near to his wife.
Tears sprang from his eyes.
‘You’re home,’ Gemma said, her back still to him.
‘I’m home.’
‘And you’re safe? You’re not hurt?’
‘I’m not hurt.’
‘Did he accept the money?’
‘He did.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘Is that it? He just took it and went?’
‘Yes.’
‘And he’s not coming back? He doesn’t want more?’
‘No. I told him we didn’t have any more. There was nothing else to discuss.’
She finally turned over in the bed.
‘Why are you crying?’
‘Relief. It’s been a tough day. I’m just glad it’s all over.’
‘Hold me,’ she said. ‘Hold me tight.’
34
Thursday morning. Breakfast time, but not like any other.
She knows, Scott thought. Or at least she suspects. She just doesn’t want to say. Doesn’t want to stress the lie to breaking point.
Because that’s what he was living now. A big fat lie. The guilt of it was already ballooning inside him. That big talk he’d had with Gemma about joint decisions, about being in this together – well, he’d thrown all that out of the window. He told himself he was doing it from the best of intentions. If this all went tits-up, then the less Gemma knew about it the better. If she didn’t know the truth, there’d be nothing for her to cover up. He was doing this for her, and for Daniel.
So then why did it feel so painful?
Daniel was less reserved than his mother. ‘Did you pay that man?’ he asked.
‘I did.’
‘Will he leave us alone now?’
‘Yes. He promised he would.’