Page 49

49

Marina

In the end, Lilah had to feed the children their Sunday lunch at the hospital café while Marina waited to get her arms bandaged, and then they had to take the children all the way to Neil’s house in Willesden, which was probably a good thing because by the time they got there, Archie was full of stories about chocolate frosted doughnuts and traveling in a real black cab and he immediately told his cousins about those, not the bad man who had tried to cut his sister’s face. With any luck, Marina thought, the doughnuts and the cab would be his lasting memories of the day.

Neil was not particularly pleased to see them at such short notice, until she told him the story of the man who’d broken into her house and grabbed Lucy Rose, but who had been quickly apprehended by the police and taken to jail with no harm done.

“That sort of thing never happens around here,” he said. “I bet you wish you’d sold the house now!”

She took the number of his estate agent buddy “just in case.” She’d never hear the end of it now, but it cheered Neil up so much that he agreed to keep the children for a sleepover while she went to the police station to give a statement, and that was a small price to pay.

In the cab going back to Richmond, they were stuck in traffic. They asked the driver to turn the radio up and spoke in hushed murmurs in the back seat.

“What are we going to do with him?”

“Same as last time, I suppose.”

“I’m going to go bankrupt buying new cooking knives.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Opal’s getting a flight tonight. So it’ll be me and you with the...drop-off.”

“I’m so sad that she’s going. Do you think we can visit her?”

“Eventually.”

“I’ve never been on a girls’ holiday before.”

“Me neither.”

“I wonder if there’s one of those resorts with all those activities for kids? Unless you’d prefer to leave them with their dad.”

“It’s cheaper outside of school holidays, for sure.”

“Don’t worry about how much.”

“Do you think...she would have really blackmailed us?”

“She thinks she meant to. She was afraid we wouldn’t be her friends anymore when we found out.”

“She had a really terrible childhood, didn’t she? But it didn’t mess her up too much. She’s still got a good heart.”

“She’ll be okay. She’ll land on her feet. I hope we can figure out a way to stay in touch.”

“You know...I thought I would feel terrible if I...did that thing. But I don’t feel terrible. I feel relieved.”

“I know just how you feel. I felt that way too.”

“Are we monsters?”

“I think...that maybe we are just fed up.”

“But...we’re not going to keep on doing this, are we?”

“Definitely not.”

“Right. Definitely.”

They listened to Taylor Swift for a moment.

“Do you think my children are going to be all right?”

“I lost my mom when I was really young, and that was traumatic. But I was okay, because I had a parent who loved me more than anything. I think, on balance, they are probably going to be all right.”

“They might need therapy. That’s going to be expensive.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Lilah, I am not going to let you pay for my children’s therapy.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Anyway, it’s my fault. He followed me to your house. If I’d gone home, it all would’ve happened differently.”

“Speaking of bridges...he saw us at the river. He was watching us the whole time.”

“I’m sorry I led him there.”

“I’m glad you came to my house. I hate to think of you dealing with that by yourself.”

“You know what, though? I think we can deal with anything, as long as we’re together.”

Marina squeezed Lilah’s hand with her uninjured one.

“Does two make us serial...?”

“I’ll look it up.”

“Not on Google.”

“Of course not.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to cook in that Le Creuset again.”

“It’s a good excuse to get a whole new set.”

“You are really a bad influence, do you know that?”

The news came on.

“More details this afternoon about fitness influencer Opal Eliot, better known online as Hot Fit Mess, and her links to fraudulent weightloss company Weight&See. In addition to cheating customers and associates out of more than three quarter of a million pounds, it has emerged that Eliot, who founded the company, is wanted for questioning regarding the death of Cora Neale, who was her employee. Metropolitan police have issued a statement asking for members of the public who have any tips on her whereabouts to call Crimestoppers.”

Marina and Lilah’s eyes met.

“Shit,” mouthed Marina.

Lilah leaned forward. “Is there any way we can get there faster, please?”

* * *

There was no way to get there faster. It was more than an hour, and long after nightfall, before Lilah paid the driver an exorbitant amount and the two of them rushed into the house. It was dark and quiet.

“Opal!” they called, to no answer. When they went into the kitchen, it was spotless and there was a distinct lack of corpses.

There was, however, a note on the table.

DON’T LOOK FOR ME. BURN THIS. LOVE YOU. O

They searched the house and cellar and garden, but without much hope, and reconvened in the kitchen.

“What did she do.” Lilah sank into a chair.

“Exactly what we told her not to do. I hope she caught her plane.” Marina scoured the kitchen. It was the cleanest it had ever been. The Le Creuset sat, empty and without even a dent, on the top of the cooker. She sniffed: bleach, lemon cleaner, and the slightest whiff of something burnt.

“How could she do all of this, and then get rid of—that, by herself?” Lilah looked distressed. “It took us all day with Zachary.”

“Maybe she carried him whole.”

“How?”

“She did say that she was able to bench-press 150 pounds, no problem.”

“Yes but...I didn’t expect her to.” Lilah got up to pace the kitchen while Marina sat down. “And he weighed more than that, for sure.”

“Do you think the police got her?” Marina chewed her lip.

“Oh no.”

“The police are looking for her and she tries disposing of a dead body on her own.”

“Oh, goodness.”

“Unless she just went straight to the airport, with...”

“How?”

“There are some large suitcases in the attic. Nana Sylvia never traveled light.”

“You can’t check a dead body into a plane! Can you?”

“I honestly don’t know. I mean, people must. When Nana Sylvia died we flew her back, but I think she was in a coffin.”

“You must need a permit of some sort though. Not just...stuffed into a suitcase.”

“I’ll go check.”

In the attic, there was a suitcase missing. Marina didn’t remember what it looked like, or how big it was, but there was a space without dust on the floor where it used to be.

Back downstairs, Lilah was burning the note from Opal in the sink.

“She doesn’t want us to find her, but we have to try.”

“We can’t call her. We deleted her number.”

“Check the news.”

The news websites didn’t have any new items about Opal, just repeats of what they’d heard in the taxi. Photographs of Opal were now paired with photos of a young woman. The caption said Cora Neale may have died after taking a food supplement .

“Everybody dies around us,” said Lilah, starting to hyperventilate. Marina put an arm around her.

“That’s not true. None of us are dying. And my children aren’t dying. We saved Lucy Rose’s life today. Opal is a survivor. Breathe.”

“But what are we going to do?”

“Let’s have a cup of tea.”

The cup of tea did not actually help, but it gave Marina something to do for five minutes before they checked all the news websites again.

“She felt terrible about Cora dying,” said Lilah. “And it wasn’t even really her fault. It was a mistake. Not like you and me, who actually killed someone on purpose. What if they find her? Will she go to prison?”

“No, she’ll be okay.” Marina thought about it. “Though no one would mess with her in prison. Within like five minutes she’d be leading all the prisoners in exercise classes.”

“We could visit her.”

“Maybe we’ll all end up there together.”

“At least we’d be together.”

“I love my brother, but I don’t want him raising my kids.”

“Have you checked Opal’s Instagram lately?” Lilah asked.

“She’s not going to post while the police are looking for her.” But Marina tapped on the app anyway, and found Opal’s profile.

“Wait,” she said. “Oh my God. Opal posted a video five minutes ago.”

“She did?” Lilah scooted over and peered at the screen. “It’s dark.”

“And I’ve got it muted. Just a second, I’ll go back to the beginning and turn on the sound.”

Music blared from the phone. It was “All the Single Ladies.”

As they watched, Opal’s face appeared in the picture, and she began to speak.