Page 4 of Between the Lies

Nina shifted in her seat to show him how uncomfortable she was. At least the two men had the decency to stop looking at her.

Shah cursed. ‘Shit! Fine. You’ll go to the loo. But I’m coming with you.’

‘Into the ladies?’ Nina asked as she leaned on her right butt cheek. She felt the source of her liquid – the child’s forgotten bottle, which she’d wedged between her thighs – slip out from behind her butt. She wiggled in her seat to shove the bottle to the floor then stood up, eyeing her handiwork.

Who knew a bottle of fizzy juice could help her escape thugs? When she reached down for her backpack, Shah snatched it up. ‘I’ve got it. You walk.’

So, her soaked trousers dripping on the floor, Nina paraded across the waiting area. Some people looked up from their phones at the sight of her. She swore someone was videotaping her. But Shah intercepted, shadowing her face and his. If their picture found its way online, she and her abductor could both be exposed.

Nina didn’t like the attention – no adult liked attention when they’d wet themselves, even if it was purposefully. She followed the signs to the loos, hoping the crowds would hide her not-so-secret liquid trail. Her cheeks burned until humiliation became her blood.

They walked past a few bars teeming with holidaygoers. Back here, most people were only interested in their own business, and no one gave her a second glance. Though Nina caught a headline on the TV inside one of the bars.

‘Fire at Walls Street Ploy to Hide Murder’flashed on the screen against the backdrop of a building, now a burned husk. The structure lay abandoned like a discarded heap of charcoal some demon had gnawed on. Two months ago, the area had been barricaded with blue police tape, now even that fluttered in the breeze like cut ribbon from a discarded gift.

Nina breathed out her anxiety. She had thought fire would help. It annihilated crucial forensic evidence, didn’t it? Evidence, that, in fact, she had committed the murder.

When they reached the loos, Nina turned to Shah. ‘I’ll need some time.’

‘Five minutes, otherwise I’m coming in there.’

Not in a mood to argue with him, Nina nodded. She really wanted to peel her trousers off. ‘Could I get my backpack?’

‘No, just the clothes.’

Hell! That wasn’t the plan! She needed the damned phone! ‘But I?—’

‘Take it or get on the plane as you are.’

Nina unzipped the backpack and pulled out two packs. She always put everything in travel bags. It was easier to unpack and pack. As an investigative journalist, she tended to travel a lot at a moment’s notice. And you never knew when life could change.

Now that habit would indeed stand her in good stead.

Shah gripped her hand. ‘Just the clothes.’

‘No,’ she protested. ‘I need wipes to clean myself. And the roll-on perfume to make sure I don’t stink up the plane.’ Fizzy juice, even if it wasn’t stinky,wassticky.

Shah grunted and gestured at her to make haste. Nina reached for the door handle when he reminded her, ‘Five minutes.’

As always, there was a queue. Nina dashed past the waiting women shouting, ‘Sorry, emergency. Sorry!’

She heard a few complaints, but one look at Nina’s backside and everyone shut up.

Nina locked herself into a cubicle and breathed. Her heart was still hammering, but she had five minutes. She hung up the bags before slipping out of her trousers and dumping them on top of the bin in the corner. Thirty seconds later, she’d swiped a wet wipe down her leg and was tugging on her fresh beige trousers. Her teal shirt followed.

She considered her options. Shah had her tickets. Her phone was still in the backpack so she couldn’t rebook herself on another flight. Anything else she did would raise suspicion and attract attention from the authorities. Her only viable option was to comply with Shah.

Nina sighed. If she’d timed herself right, she had just under three minutes to get out.

Nina riffled through her toiletries bag, thinking about her next plan of action. She didn’t have her backpack or phone; nor was she a spy with hidden gear. She rummaged through her pockets, then her travel pack, praying for inspiration. Something brushed against her hand. Her rose-gold hygiene kit! It came with travel-safe compact scissors, a pair of nail clippers, a nail file and tweezers. Bingo!

With a minute to spare, Nina stepped out of her cubicle. The queue had vanished. Women left the loos, but no one entered. Shah had, apparently, taken up the post of gatekeeper, ensuring no one but her was in here. That also meant he planned to enter if she didn’t leave within his stipulated five minutes.

Nina set her packs beside the sinks and washed her hands.

The last cubicle opened, and a woman stepped up next to Nina. Nina smiled at her, and she reciprocated.

Nina dried her hands, then pulled out her tweezers. If they were shining before, they sparkled now. But her nail file was scratched beyond repair. Nina palmed the tweezers, then set the kit back on the counter.

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