Page 24 of You Lied First
Margot raises an eyebrow. ‘Right.’
‘Guy came with me to get my wind chimes.’ Sara holds up and waggles a plastic bag. ‘I asked Celine to stay with Flynn and Liv, but …’ she shrugs. ‘Anyway, Livvie. It’s all over now and you’re safe and nothing happened.’
‘It’s a very safe country,’ Margot says. ‘You’ll have been fine in that respect, Olivia, but I know it must have been scary. It can be quite intimidating on your own in the middle of the souk, especially if you don’t know where you are.’
‘What’s actually scary is the way Celine looks at Flynn,’ Liv says. ‘Have you noticed that as well? It’s like she’s always flirting with him, or glancing at him.’
‘You can say that again,’ Flynn says, re-entering the kitchen.
Sara frowns. ‘Maybe she’s just trying to be nice.’
Liv scowls and Margot realises it’s upsetting her more than she’s letting on.
‘Do you want me to say anything to her?’ she says to Flynn. ‘Because I can.’
But Flynn shakes his head. ‘It’s fine.’
‘Well, if you’re sure. Anyway, dinner’s ready, so would you just help me bring out some bits for the table and then we can eat?’
‘Oh …’ says Flynn. ‘We ate in Muttrah. In one of those cafés on the corniche, you know?’
Liv sees the look on Margot’s face and puts her hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry, Mrs Forrest. We didn’t think.’
20
SARA
Idon’t know how Guy arranges it, but by mid-afternoon the following day, our group is in possession of three tents, bedding, enough food and drink to feed a starving army, a camping stove, cooking equipment, head torches, two Land Cruisers, a quad bike on a trailer, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. I bite my lip as I look at the assembled gear. It’s only for one night.
‘I’ll pull the trailer,’ Margot says. She’s been quiet all morning, but I put it down to the fact that she’s been getting together all the kitchen supplies we need. I tried to help her but, with no idea what we’ll need, I’m only as good as the orders I’m given, and I get the impression that Margot prefers to do it alone.
Flynn leads Liv to Margot’s car, so I get into the other one with Celine and Guy and, before you can sayyalla, we’re bowling through Muscat towards a road that slices through different mountains than the ones we drove through the other day. The mood in the car is upbeat and carefree with Celine’s phone playlist connected to the audio, Guy beat-boxing like a YouTube rapper and all of us singing along, and it makes me realise how much I’ve been tiptoeing around Margot.
‘It’s not the most picturesque drive,’ Guy says, ‘but it shouldn’t take more than two hours, especially if Margot keeps up.’
‘It might not be chocolate-box pretty,’ I say, looking at the scraggy mountains, ‘but it’s very striking. And so alien to me. I don’t drive through mountains very often.’
‘I don’t suppose you do,’ Guy says. I don’t think he means to put me down, but I feel gauche because I remember Liv telling me that the Forrests drive down to the Alps each year to ski.
As we leave the town behind us, the traffic quietens. Guy settles back in his seat, leaving only one hand loosely on the wheel, which makes me feel a little uneasy at 120 kph, but I tell myself that he knows what he’s doing. Ahead of us, the six-lane road snakes through grey mountains. We pass a quarry and an oasis of palm trees. We speed past the odd truck and several low-slung sedans with number plates written in Arabic, and then, when I see a sign to a prison, Guy exits that road and joins a different one.
Celine turns the music down. ‘So, I know you two met through your kids, but did you ever come across each other before that? At the school gate or events or anything?’
I smile to myself. The closest I’d got to the Forrest family before the teens had fallen in love was reading the article about Margot’s Mansions inThe Cheltenham Post. Even now, on the very rare occasions I drop Liv off at school, I might see Flynn climbing out of a navy Range Rover and catch a glimpse of Margot’s cap of ice-blonde hair through the window, but that’s about it.
‘No,’ I say.
‘I’d seen Sara around,’ Guy says, ‘but our paths hadn’t properly crossed, had they?’
‘Nope. Not really.’ I suspect Guy’s lying, but I appreciate the kindness. ‘I’m not there much, to be honest.’
‘Don’t you all go for coffees or something after drop-off? Or tennis mornings?’ Celine asks. ‘The mums at my school are always yacking in the coffee shop.’
‘It’s not like that at secondary school,’ I say. ‘Most of the kids get there independently.’
‘Of course, and am I right in thinking that Liv doesn’t live with you? So you wouldn’t be doing drop-off anyway.’
‘Mmm-hmm,’ I say.
