Page 7 of A Game of Lies

‘Er,Exposure?’ Seren says, as though Ffion is stupid.

Elen tuts. The problem with teenagers is they think they know everything. Ffion was the same at that age. Too big to send to the naughty step; too young to have had the corners bashed off them out in the real world.

‘How was your day?’ she asks Ffion. ‘Anything interesting?’

‘Not really.’

‘I had an Amazon parcel stolen off the doorstep today.’ Elen tries to get everything she needs from Cwm Coed’s high street, but she needed printer ink and it couldn’t wait till her next trip to town.

Seren shushes her. ‘It’s starting.’

On screen, violent colours clash into each other, exploding into graphics that make Elen’s head hurt. To think she’s missingHenofor this. A vivid blue circle stretches taut as an elastic band, only topingback into what Elen now sees is a garish interpretation of the town’s lake. Above it, a lurid green triangle slams into place amid fireworks of purple and orange. In perfect synchronicity, a clashing, urgent soundtrack builds to a crescendo, as letters drop from the sky and crash on to the mountain.

E X P O S U R E

Seren squeals with excitement.

‘Ffi?’ Elen prompts.

Ffion tears herself away from the screen. ‘What?’

‘My parcel.’

‘It’s probably next door.’

‘No, I checked.’

‘Ah, well.’

‘Oh, that’s lovely, that is. My own daughter, a high-flying police officer—’

‘I’m a constable, Mam.’

‘—and she can’t be bothered to investigate when her own mam’s been the victim of a hate crime.Ah, well, said the police spokeswoman.’

‘It’s not a hate crime, Mam.’

‘Well,Ihate it.’

‘That’s not—’

‘Remember all those thefts last year, and no one was ever caught? We’ve got a serial offender on our hands. Or a copycat.’

‘Shh!’ Seren turns up the volume.

Elen peers at the screen. ‘I don’t recognise any of them.’

‘They’re not celebrities, Mam, you’re not supposed to recognise them.’ Lately, Seren has taken to speaking to her as though Elen is demented, instead of simply menopausal. ‘They’re just normal people.’

‘Except for Ceri,’ Ffion says, through a mouthful of pie.

‘Ceri’s not normal? That’s not a very kind thing to say, Ffion Morgan.’

‘I mean you’ll recognise her.’

‘See that pile of logs by the hot tub?’ Caleb leaps to his feet, pointing at the screen, which shows what awaits the contestants in camp. ‘I stacked those!’

‘You did really good,’ Seren says loyally.

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