Page 98 of You Lied First
‘Well, you know what they say: if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.’
‘I guess!’ Sara smiles brightly. ‘Anyway, how’s your dad?’
‘He’s doing really well, thanks. It’s good for him to feel useful, and it’s great for me having him around since Flynn left for uni.’
‘I’m so glad it worked out,’ Sara says with a smile.
The champagne arrives, and they clink glasses before talking more about their children. Liv and Flynn are at different universities and are no longer together. They’d been very level-headed about not wanting to be tied down when they began university, and neither mum had tried to persuade them otherwise. The most interesting thing to come out of that relationship, though, is that Margot and Sara no longer need their children as a tie. Their friendship has developed from morning coffees to weekly lunches in bougie restaurants around town. It might seem an odd match from the outside, but Margot likes Sara. Likes her sharp edges and the rawness of her. Her mother’s instinct. Sara’s turning out to be the best and closest friend Margot’s ever had and, with Guy safely behind bars, she thinks it might finally be the right time for her to make her own confession.
‘I still can’t believe how it all turned out,’ Sara says asthey enjoy a bottle of Sancerre with their salmon. ‘Imagine you hadn’t remembered about the camera. Imagine you hadn’t thought to email Di. Or Di hadn’t found it.’ She shakes her head. ‘We’d all still be suspecting each other. Wasn’t that an awful time? It’s so good you found clear evidence of what actually happened.’
‘I know! Imagine you’d handed yourself in that day,’ Margot says. ‘You’d be the one extradited and facing life in jail, not Guy.’
Sara gives an exaggerated shudder. ‘And now everything’s worked out. Liv and I have become close again. That’s all I ever wanted. And you and Flynn got away from Guy. So all’s well that ends well, eh?’
Margot plays with her dessert spoon as she looks at Sara mischievously. ‘Guy might disagree with that.’
‘Well, yes, of course,’ Sara says. ‘No one wants to spend the rest of their life in jail. But – I mean – he did kill her. You can’t really go around getting away with things like that, can you?’
‘I guess not,’ Margot says thoughtfully. ‘But, you know, Sara, he chose that trail camera himself. He put a lot of research into choosing it. Compared a whole lot of them. Picked the one with the highest spec – in terms of resolution, battery life, memory.’ She elocutes the three things slowly and clearly with her eyebrows raised.
‘I can imagine,’ Sara says. ‘That’s Guy all over, isn’t it?’
‘Indeed,’ Margot says. ‘But that was actually the first time we’d used it.’
Sara grimaces. ‘Eek. Probably not what you imagined filming when he bought it.’
Margot fiddles with the spoon and waits for Sara toconnect the dots. To figure out that the battery was top-of-the-range and brand new; that it didn’t run out after Guy came out of Celine’s tent; that it was Margot’s decision to delete the subsequent clips that showed very clearly what happened next.
And, when Sara looks slowly up at her, her brow creasing and then her mouth opening in a questioning O, she sees that Sara finally understands. That she realises that Margot knows exactly who killed Celine Cremorne. And Margot raises her glass to her with a smile.
‘Cheers.’
