Page 27 of You Lied First
‘Arabian hospitality at its best. Lucky for us,’ Guy says. ‘Right, come on, let’s get going.’
The mood in our car, as we get back on the road, is reflective as we process all that’s just happened – both the tyre blow-out and the help. I’m still reeling. I believe in signs and a part of me feels like the double knock-back of the puncture and the flat spare was the universe telling us to turn back. I feel like we’ve gone against what’s meant to be by carrying on. I can’t shake off a feeling of impending doom.
‘I suppose it works for him,’ Guy says. ‘Our spare looked unused, so I guess he didn’t lose out. I wanted to pay him, or swap it back, but he wouldn’t hear of it. You saw how he was.’
‘I can’t imagine that happening back home,’ I say.
‘You can always call a breakdown service back home, to be fair,’ Celine says. ‘And well driven, G, by the way. I think we both owe you a thank-you.’ She gives Guy’s leg a pat. He reaches down and holds her hand for a moment, and I’m almost a hundred per cent sure, watching that, something’s happened between them.
‘Any time,’ Guy says. ‘Right, I reckon we’ll be there in about forty minutes and, if everyone pulls their weight, we should have camp set up just in time for some very welcome sundowners.’
‘Amen to that!’ Celine says with a huge sigh. ‘I’m looking forward to this so much.’
‘Do you know the site? Have you camped there before?’ I ask.
Celine smiles gently as she peers back at me. ‘Oh, Sara, you’re so sweet.’
‘What?’
‘Umm,’ Guy says. ‘You know there is no “site” as such, don’t you? It’s just desert. We’re going to drive off-road until we find a nice bit – maybe with a big dune or two for some bashing with the quad bike – and then we’ll stop and pitch our tents. Just like that.’ He pauses. ‘You’re not expecting showers or anything, are you? There aren’t even toilets. We’re going off-grid for twenty-four hours.’
‘The full Bear Grylls!’ Celine says.
‘You’ll be picking sand out of your scalp for the next month and I’m not kidding,’ Guy says. ‘But it’ll be fun.’
‘I’m not planning on rolling down the dunes,’ I say drily.
‘It just gets everywhere. You can’t help it,’ Guy says. Hechuckles. ‘Camping here is quite the experience. You’ll never forget it. That much I promise.’
‘Can’t wait.’ I lean back on the leather seat and look out of the window.
The road snakes ahead of us, a line of tarmac as far as the eye can see. We see the odd settlement of white houses clustered around a mosque, but there’s not much besides sand and an expanse of clear sky so big it almost gives me vertigo. After another fifteen minutes, Guy slows the car a little and then turns off onto a smaller road, then again onto a sand track.
‘Now for the fun bit,’ he says as we rattle along the track far faster than I think is appropriate for a rental car, especially one that’s just had a flat and now has no spare. ‘You might want to hang on tight. Things are about to get very bumpy.’
23
MARGOT
Once Guy’s selected the perfect camping spot, nestled among a few softly undulating dunes near a clutch of trees, he indicates to Margot where she should park. As long as she does what he tells her, Margot and Guy are a good team when it comes to setting up camp – the things that need to be done coming back to them almost like muscle memory, but it’s hot work despite the breeze. The sun may be on its way down, but heat still radiates off the top layer of the sand and fat flies buzz around, attracted by the sweat that runs down the side of Margot’s face as she scrambles around. She’s panting by the time she’s rammed the last tent peg deep into slippery, soft sand. The large tent looks solid: it has two self-contained, zipped rooms and a shaded veranda that Guy is calling ‘the terrace’.
Arranged around it are the two one-man, pop-up tents and, in the middle of the campsite, Celine and Sara have set up the table facing the spot where they predict the sun will sink below the dunes, arranged six chairs around it, and dragged over the large cool box that contains much of the alcohol.
‘Good job, team,’ Guy says as they survey their handiwork.
‘This is incredible. It looks so cosy,’ Celine says, looking enviously inside the big tent.
Guy points to the two small tents. ‘You and Sara are in the “desert suites”. No en suite though. Bathroom’s that way.’ He points to the trees. ‘But please dig a hole. Don’t just leave it lying there. Okay?’
Flynn and Liv aren’t really listening. They’re circling the quad bike, their eyes lit with excitement. Flynn climbs up onto the trailer, leans in, put his hands on the handlebars and gives the brakes an experimental squeeze.
‘Wanna have a go?’ he asks Liv.
‘Hell, yeah!’ Liv says.
Margot sees Sara sidle over to her daughter and hears her ask quietly, ‘Are you sure? You don’t have to.’
Liv swats Sara away. ‘Can you please not be so overprotective?’ she says in that way teenagers have. ‘I’m nearly eighteen. And yes, before you ask, Dad would let me.’
