Page 85 of You Lied First
The police might not even be looking for me, I tell myself as I start the engine. It could just be a coincidence. But, as I turn back into my road, the squad car is still there, and I can make out the shape of two officers through the back window. I driveslowly down the road and pull into the vacant space in front of the police car. Then I take a deep breath in, get out of the car, and throw what I hope is a vaguely bemused look in the direction of the police car as I walk up my front path. Hand me that Oscar right now.
They catch me before I’ve unlocked the door.
‘Good afternoon, madam.’
I spin around to find the two officers, one male and one female, standing behind me on the garden path. I smile and try to look surprised.
‘Oh, hello. Can I help you?’
‘I see that you’ve just arrived home but, if you can spare us two minutes of your time, we just have a few questions we’d like to ask.’
Now I try to look quizzical. ‘Can you say what it’s regarding?’
The female officer nods over her shoulder. ‘A car was stolen from across the road in the early hours of this morning. We see you have a smart doorbell and we wondered if we can check the footage as it looks like it might have caught something?’
‘A stolen car?’ I say weakly. ‘Across the road? How awful. Yes, yes, come in.’
I usher the police into the hallway where the doorbell monitor sits.
‘This is it. Do you know how to use it? Just – I think that button rewinds but I’m not sure as I’ve had no need to look at it,’ I say. I sink onto the stairs and hug my knees while they poke buttons and peer at the screen.
They aren’t here for me at all. But I could really make their careers by telling them some different information. My mouthtwitches with the absurdity of it. Bubbles of what I know would be hysterical laughter start to gather inside me. I hug my knees tighter and hide my face against them willing my mouth to stay straight.
It takes the police a few minutes to establish that, while my view of the road would have been perfect, my system isn’t set to record, only to show in real time who’s out there, so there’s nothing to see.
‘Sorry I couldn’t be of more help,’ I say as they leave.
68
MARGOT
‘Margot!’ Guy bellows as he blasts into Margot’s studio. It’s the first word he’s spoken to her since he threatened her over leaving him and she’s been walking on eggshells around him ever since.
‘We need to talk to Sara,’ Guy says. ‘I’ve arranged to meet her on Cleeve Hill in half an hour.’
‘Why?’ she asks, grateful for once for his ability to compartmentalise his life. It’s as if he’s told her not to leave him, so she won’t. Job done. Move on.
‘Margot! Get with the programme! The police have launched a murder hunt! We’ve told them we were there. The net is closing in. We need to make doubly, triply sure we’re all on the same page. Ensure that no one is going to the police. And that we’re all on board with what we need to say if the police come knocking. As they very well may.’
It’s a bright day and the wind buffets the car as Guy floors it up the single-track road far faster than Margot thinks is safe or necessary. Her grip on her handbag is as tight as the silence between the two of them is tense. Margot wonders what’ll happen up on the hill. Might Guy actually confess? When they pull into the car park by the radio masts, there’s just onecar there and, inside it, Margot can make out Sara’s profile. She’s staring pensively straight ahead and Margot’s heart aches for the pain that her husband’s putting this innocent woman through.
Guy cuts the engine and sits with his head bowed and his eyes closed for a moment, then he takes a deep breath.
‘Ready?’
‘Yep.’
‘Okay, let’s go.’
They get out and Sara nods hello to them, the strained formality of the greeting many times removed from the familiarity they’d had in the warmth of the Omani sunshine. Even in her leggings, boots and a big, padded jacket, Sara looks thin and grey. Her bony knees protrude from legs thin as sparrows; the hollows of her face are pronounced, her skin tight on the bones; and the weak smile that she offers the Forrests is brittle. She’s lost a lot of weight since the holiday and all of their tans have faded. None of them look good in the cold, flat light of the British winter.
‘So,’ Sara says. ‘Here we all are.’
‘Indeed,’ Guy says grimly. He nods towards the path that leads to the fields beyond. ‘Shall we?’
They set off, manoeuvring their way through the gate onto the common, then walking in single file with Guy in front. Margot focuses on the path ahead, not wanting to slip and sprain an ankle, or worse. This is not her natural habitat, not by a long shot. The icy wind bites into her cheeks and wails a ghostly song as it tears through the radio masts.
‘Let’s not go too far,’ she calls, only now wondering if herhusband’s brought them up here to silence her and Sara once and for all. There’s no one around, not even a dog-walker, although hoofprints show that horses sometimes come this way. Perhaps it isn’t the smartest idea to be somewhere so isolated with him. Maybe she should have told Flynn where they were going.
