Page 46 of You Lied First
‘And we will,’ Margot says. Her hand seeks mine and squeezes it. I squeeze back. It feels like we’re Thelma and Louise.
We see a shop with an archaic-looking petrol pump out the front and, thankfully, an air pump too. While Margot’s snaking the hose around the car to top up the tyres, I jump out to buy some much-needed water and, when I’m back in the car, my phone pings. It’s a message from Guy.
I presume Margot’s driving. Reached the villa. Didn’t go to hospital. Flynn’s fine. Everything okay your end?
Yes. On our way,I type.
Just rebooked our flights for tonight with a short layover in Dubai airport and the early flight to Birmingham. There’s still availability as of now. I’m sending you the details. Please change yours.
I frown as I look at the messages. Won’t running away make us look more suspicious? But, if Guy’s changed the Forrests’ flights, what’s the alternative? To stay alone with Liv, waiting for a knock on the door from the police? It dawns on me again that we’re actually committing a crime by burying a body and fleeing the scene of a death. Bonnie and Clyde with their friend and kids. I open my browser and get on the website. Thank heavens I booked with the airline rather than through a travel agent.
My phone pings again, three more times.
It’ll cost a bit extra but I’m happy to pay you back.
I think we all need to leave together.
And I can’t leave you behind.
I send a thumbs-up to Guy and, as Margot pulls out of the petrol station, I update her on the plan as I search for availability.
‘He’s right,’ she says. ‘Whatever it costs, you need to be on those flights with us.’
‘Done,’ I say, a few minutes later. ‘I hope the airline doesn’t question why we all changed our flights so suddenly.’
‘People do it all the time,’ Margot says. ‘It’s no biggie.’
‘I hope not. So that’s it. We take off from here at four-forty in the morning, change at Dubai and take off again at seven-fifty. We’ll be home in our beds by tomorrow night.’
‘Let’s hope we don’t get stopped at immigration,’ Margot says.
‘There’s no reason why we should be,’ I say, but when I look across, her face is grim.
37
MARGOT
As they come into the outskirts of Muscat, Margot takes a small detour along the seafront, where it’ll be possible to hurl Celine’s phone into deep water. She stops the car and looks at Sara.
‘Here’s good, I think. Ready?’
But Sara is leaning forward, peering into the footwell. ‘I can’t find it. Can you put the light on?’
Margot clicks it on and searches around the seat area. ‘Where was it? Were you holding it, or did you put it in your bag?’
Sara rummages through her handbag. ‘I didn’t put it in my bag. I had it on my lap.’
‘When did you last see it?’
‘Umm. At the petrol station. When we stopped, and I got out to get the water … oh, shit.’
Margot breathes out a shuddering breath. ‘No. It’ll be here. Come out, move the seat.’
She uses her phone torch and they both examine as far as they can under both front seats and finally Margot has to accept that they’ve drawn a blank. ‘Jesus. Now what?’
Sara shrugs. She looks as if she might cry. ‘I’m sorry. I,just … Guy was hassling me about changing the flights and I was distracted. Now I think about it, I can imagine how it might have fallen out. Shall we go back? Do you want me to go back in a taxi? I will if I have to. You can go back to the villa and just say that I met a random friend or something?’
Margot stares at the sea, her hands on her head as she thinks. The phone should be out there, under that mass of water, being destroyed, never to be found. Now it’s at a petrol station somewhere in rural Oman. Incriminating evidence. But what can they do? She goes back to Sara, who’s standing by the car looking utterly destroyed.
