waste.
He didn’t understand. Why would anyone choose this option? He was teaching her how to deal with life, that it was painful but that she could become immune, and this was how she repaid him? By killing herself in his room, with his bleach?
Now he would have to clean up, find another girl, start from scratch. He sighed loudly. Why does everything I touch turn to shit?
He felt himself drift off in his mind, trying to remember when everything actually had turned to shit.
It had been years.
He barely even recalled the exact moment. Not anymore.
Slowly he hung his head, and just for a moment he muttered a quick prayer for the girl. However she had chosen to die, it probably would have been the end result anyway. He had helped her all he could.
He glanced at the clock on the wall; he’d have to deal with the mess and the body later. For now, it was time to leave or he’d be late.
4 th November, 0645 hours – Car park, Dive Team HQ, South Shields
‘Marlo, wait up,’ came Connor’s voice from behind her as she made her way towards the front entrance of the building.
For a moment she was tempted to just ignore him, but that wasn’t her style. Hopefully he’d pulled his head out of his arse now anyway. He’d been quiet as a mouse the day before during the training exercise, and had been gone by the time she made it back to the office from the nick in Sunderland.
She was already beginning to regret her decision to pop into the centre on her rest day to grab her kit bag. She’d left it there accidentally last night and it had her personal dry suit in, which she needed for the day’s dive. She’d fully expected to pop in without seeing another soul.
‘Connor,’ she greeted coolly, turning to acknowledge him. Immediately though, she felt guilty. The lad looked torn up and guilty as hell. Not one for prolonging torture, she added, ‘You OK? What’re you doing here today?’
‘Left my mobile last night. Thought I’d grab it before Bravo Team came in. Need it in case something happens to my mum. She’s erm… well, she’s not too good. You OK?’
Marlo noticed him falter when he mentioned his mum, but she didn’t ask about it. It was obviously something he wasn’t keen on talking about. ‘Am fine, just picking up my kitbag. I’m off up to the Farne Islands to do some diving. You ever been up there?’
‘Once, years ago. Listen, Marlo. About the other day –’
‘It’s fine, we all have bad days. Don’t worry about it.’ Apologies always made her uncomfortable, and she knew that’s where the conversation was headed. She held the door open for him and motioned him through.
‘OK, thanks,’ he nodded at her. ‘If you ever want a dive partner, I wouldn’t mind diving up that way. Heard the wrecks are amazing on a good day.’
‘There’s not much of them left to be honest. On a good day you can see a few joists and belly rails in the sediment, but it’s been a while since it’s been clear enough for good views. I’ll get my shot one day. You’re welcome to come next time I go if you like though.’
‘Great thanks, Marlo. And I really am sorry for snapping. I’ll see you Monday.’
She watched after him thoughtfully as he made his way up the stairs towards the locker room. He’s a funny soul that one, young in age, but he has old eyes.
Reading people was something she did well; she’d grown up having to be able to read the moods of others and understand things children shouldn’t need to know. Foster homes and care homes had a tendency to do that, you practically slept with one eye open. She knew Connor had been genuinely sorry, but she also knew he’d been hiding something. Hate it when people do that. Why can’t they just be honest and say what’s bugging them.
Her mind taunted her with its reply, ‘You should know. You do it.’
Guilt flashed over her: yes, she did hide things. Every day, in fact. Things no one on her team knew about. What right do I have to judge
He didn’t understand. Why would anyone choose this option? He was teaching her how to deal with life, that it was painful but that she could become immune, and this was how she repaid him? By killing herself in his room, with his bleach?
Now he would have to clean up, find another girl, start from scratch. He sighed loudly. Why does everything I touch turn to shit?
He felt himself drift off in his mind, trying to remember when everything actually had turned to shit.
It had been years.
He barely even recalled the exact moment. Not anymore.
Slowly he hung his head, and just for a moment he muttered a quick prayer for the girl. However she had chosen to die, it probably would have been the end result anyway. He had helped her all he could.
He glanced at the clock on the wall; he’d have to deal with the mess and the body later. For now, it was time to leave or he’d be late.
4 th November, 0645 hours – Car park, Dive Team HQ, South Shields
‘Marlo, wait up,’ came Connor’s voice from behind her as she made her way towards the front entrance of the building.
For a moment she was tempted to just ignore him, but that wasn’t her style. Hopefully he’d pulled his head out of his arse now anyway. He’d been quiet as a mouse the day before during the training exercise, and had been gone by the time she made it back to the office from the nick in Sunderland.
She was already beginning to regret her decision to pop into the centre on her rest day to grab her kit bag. She’d left it there accidentally last night and it had her personal dry suit in, which she needed for the day’s dive. She’d fully expected to pop in without seeing another soul.
‘Connor,’ she greeted coolly, turning to acknowledge him. Immediately though, she felt guilty. The lad looked torn up and guilty as hell. Not one for prolonging torture, she added, ‘You OK? What’re you doing here today?’
‘Left my mobile last night. Thought I’d grab it before Bravo Team came in. Need it in case something happens to my mum. She’s erm… well, she’s not too good. You OK?’
Marlo noticed him falter when he mentioned his mum, but she didn’t ask about it. It was obviously something he wasn’t keen on talking about. ‘Am fine, just picking up my kitbag. I’m off up to the Farne Islands to do some diving. You ever been up there?’
‘Once, years ago. Listen, Marlo. About the other day –’
‘It’s fine, we all have bad days. Don’t worry about it.’ Apologies always made her uncomfortable, and she knew that’s where the conversation was headed. She held the door open for him and motioned him through.
‘OK, thanks,’ he nodded at her. ‘If you ever want a dive partner, I wouldn’t mind diving up that way. Heard the wrecks are amazing on a good day.’
‘There’s not much of them left to be honest. On a good day you can see a few joists and belly rails in the sediment, but it’s been a while since it’s been clear enough for good views. I’ll get my shot one day. You’re welcome to come next time I go if you like though.’
‘Great thanks, Marlo. And I really am sorry for snapping. I’ll see you Monday.’
She watched after him thoughtfully as he made his way up the stairs towards the locker room. He’s a funny soul that one, young in age, but he has old eyes.
Reading people was something she did well; she’d grown up having to be able to read the moods of others and understand things children shouldn’t need to know. Foster homes and care homes had a tendency to do that, you practically slept with one eye open. She knew Connor had been genuinely sorry, but she also knew he’d been hiding something. Hate it when people do that. Why can’t they just be honest and say what’s bugging them.
Her mind taunted her with its reply, ‘You should know. You do it.’
Guilt flashed over her: yes, she did hide things. Every day, in fact. Things no one on her team knew about. What right do I have to judge
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