Page 69 of A Game of Lies

‘What’s public opinion like?’ Aliyah says, all business now.

‘What?’ Dario looks dazed.

‘What do they think of us?’

‘Um … they like the vicar. They think Pam’s bossy.’

‘But Pam’s lovely! What about me?’

‘They think you’re a …’ Dario hesitates. ‘A bit flirty.’

‘A bitwhat?’ Aliyah’s outraged.

Dario swallows. ‘They’re hoping you might get it on with Jason.’

However unpalatable this is, Aliyah recognises it could work in her favour. The public won’t vote to expose and evict someone they’re hoping to see shagging on screen. ‘How about Ceri?’

‘Miserable.’

‘Jason?’

‘Jack-the-lad.’

‘Henry?’

‘Boring.’

‘Fair,’ Aliyah concedes. She eyes Dario. ‘Same time tomorrow?’

‘I’ll be here.’

Armed with the remainder of her chocolate bar, and the reassurance of an ally on the outside, Aliyah heads back to camp with renewed determination. The only way to avoid exposure is to get the other contestants out, and that’s exactly what she plans to do.

TWENTY-SIX

SUNDAY | FFION

‘Miles is dead?’ Dario stares at them. ‘But I saw him running this morning.’

‘When was that?’ Ffion asks. They’re standing by the entrance to camp, Ffion and Leo slightly out of breath from the brisk walk up from Carreg Plas.

‘Maybe quarter past ten? Same time as always.’

‘Did he speak to you?’

Dario snorts. ‘The only time Miles speaks to me is if I do something wrong.’

‘And have you done anything wrong?’ Ffion says, because something crossed Dario’s face just now. Something secretive. She hears a noise in the undergrowth beside them and turns to look, but there’s nothing there.

‘No. Why, what have you heard?’

Leo ignores the question. ‘Have you seen anyone hanging around?’

‘Hang on a minute …’ Dario’s eyes narrow. ‘You’re not trying to put this on me, are you? I’m hired to keep the site safe, but I can’t be everywhere at once. If Miles has been murdered, that’s not my fault.’

Ffion frowns. ‘We didn’t say he was murdered. I told you he was dead, that’s all.’

‘You wouldn’t be poking around asking questions if he’d died of natural causes, now would you?’ Dario folds his arms across his chest. ‘But I’m telling you: I’ve been nowhere near Miles Young. He must have been forty metres or so from me this morning – didn’t even wave, let alone say hello. I haven’t moved from this spot since.’