Page 64 of You Lied First
‘What’s going on? This isn’t like you.’
He looks at me and I notice pink spider lines in his eyes, the depth of the bags under them, and the lines etched deeper than I remember. He doesn’t look like a man who’s sleeping well.
‘You think my life’s a rodeo? All sunshine and fun?’ He scoffs. ‘I can tell you it’s not what you see on Instagram. You think Margot and I are happy, don’t you? Did we fool you in Oman? My God, Sara, you have no idea. Sit down. Let me tell you the truth behind the idyll of Margot’s Mansions.’
I look at him warily. ‘Hang on. Have you finished intimidating me in my own home now? Because that wasn’t very nice, Guy, and I don’t appreciate it.’
He bites his lip. ‘I didn’t mean … I’m just so stressed right now. It won’t happen again, I promise. Come and sit with me.’
I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I can trust him, but then I sit a little sideways to him and he begins to speak. What he tells me is the age-old story of a marriage that’s run its course; of lovers turned friends turned flatmates until he and Margot are – apparently – nothing more than co-parents and business associates.
‘She doesn’t love me,’ he says when he’s finished. ‘It’s a marriage only in name.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ I say, although I’m not sure I believe him entirely. I’ve been around the block enough to know an excuse for an affair when I hear it. It’s probably what he told Celine, back when they lived in Oman. And she probably fell for it. ‘Guy, listen, I’m just going to spell this out now so there’s no misunderstanding. I can’t and I won’t do anything to hurt or embarrass Margot, no matter how things are betweenyou. So this …’ I wave my hand between him and me, ‘… is a non-starter. Understood?’
He sighs. ‘“Sara Says” no.’ He gives an ironic chuckle and shakes his head. ‘You’re such a good person. I don’t know how you do it. I bow in admiration to your morals.’
We lapse into silence for a minute before I remember what it was that brought him here. ‘So, back to the phone, if we can talk about that without you exploding again. Do you think resetting it will have been enough?’
He clucks his tongue. ‘I honestly don’t know. But it will take time for them to recover anything else. I don’t know what she would have had on it anyway. Did you ever message her?’
‘No.’
‘Good. And I know Margot won’t have messaged her. So that’s something,’ Guy says, leaving me staring at the elephant in the room: was there a train of messages from Guy on Celine’s phone? Incriminating photos? After his outburst, I’m not going to prod him. If there was something going on between him and Celine, he probably would have had a burner phone that I sincerely hoped he chucked into the sea.
‘So we’re all good?’ I ask.
My biggest fear is that, for some reason, the Forrests break ranks; that they decide to shop me in and save themselves. I’ve seen how ruthless Guy can be. I wonder now if rejecting him was a smart thing to do; if it would have been wiser to lead him on a little bit, let him enjoy a flirtation, keep him hooked. I need Guy not to blame me for being the weakest link. I can’t believe I lost the phone.
But Guy smiles. ‘We’re as good as we can be.’
After he leaves, I go to the Facebook appeal page and watchthe parents’ video again; it’s like a scar I can’t stop picking. Maybe I’m hoping that exposing myself to it enough will harden me to their pain. But then I see the comments. The top one – the one getting the most traction with shocked emojis racking up by the second – is from a poster with the profile ‘Celine Cremorne’.
Hi, it’s me. You left me for dead. You know who you are … Did you really think you’d get away with it?
51
MARGOT
Margot is resting on the sofa in the orangery when Guy comes back from wherever he went. The wine’s wearing off and she has a headache. She’s getting more of those since she started relying on over-the-counter sleeping tablets to get her through the nights and wine to get her through the days. She doesn’t open her eyes when she hears her husband walk in, nor when she feels the weight of him scrunch onto the sofa by her feet. Her finger is throbbing.
‘Where’ve you been?’ she asks.
‘I went to Sara’s to ask her about the phone. She didn’t take out the SIM. But she says she put it back to factory settings.’
‘That’s good enough, isn’t it? Maybe it’ll be okay.’
‘“Maybe it’ll be okay” isn’t really what I’m aiming for in a situation like this!’ Guy snaps. ‘I’d prefer “it’s watertight”, but nothing can be done now. How are you? How’s the finger?’
‘Agony. Anyway, listen. I’ve been thinking. About the parents. That video. They’re still hoping she’s alive, and it’s destroying them. I was wondering if there’s a way we could tell them that she’s no longer alive. To give them closure. Without dumping ourselves in it. Because, at the moment, they have so much hope.’
‘Are you insane? No!’ Guy’s voice is like the crack of a whip, but Margot continues. She’s put a lot of thought into this while lying on the sofa.
‘Do you remember what Sara suggested at the time? That one of us could stay and explain? Maybe we could still do something like that.’
‘Nope. Not happening.’
‘Hear me out. One of us could say they were in the desert on their own – they got separated from everyone or went for a walk, or something. Then they stumbled across some disturbed sand that, with hindsight, looked a bit suspicious. At the time, they assumed it was just mess from when someone had camped there, but now being back and having heard about this missing woman, maybe it’s worth investigating? The police did say they wanted all information, however trivial.’ Margot’s even thinking that it could be she and Guy who could go forward. She just wants to alleviate the pain of those poor parents.
