Page 32 of You Lied First

I need to get away from the Forrests. Their constant ear-bending is stopping me from working out my own thoughts and I need to think through every angle of this for myself; I need to figure out what we need to do and what could go wrong.

I need to be sure that they have my back; that they won’t turn on me once we’re home.

And I need to know that I’m good with my decision because I’m hardly going to be able to change it later.

Holding up my hand to stop the Forrests from following me, I stumble through the sand and find a shady spot under a tree where I sit, leaning against the trunk, and hug my knees.

I feel like I’m holding the nuclear codes in my hand while the world waits to hear its fate.

I should have listened to my gut yesterday.

We should have turned back after the tyre blew out.

The universe was sending us signs. I knew it and I ignored it.

Never has the phrase Sara Says haunted me more.

When I consider the Forrests’ arguments, it’s obvious what we need to do if we want to get away scot-free, and the idea of that is very, very attractive.

But Sara Says is the sensible voice. The angel on your shoulder – not the devil.

And the problem here is that the ‘right’ decision, the thing the angel voice would tell you to do, is to take the difficult route: to stay and face the consequences.

But the consequences of me ‘doing the right thing’ will impact all of our lives, possibly forever.

Until Margot mentioned it, I hadn’t even thought about the death penalty, but this is the Middle East, so who knows?

I shudder and squeeze my knees even tighter as my thoughts run in circles.

Whatever I decide, we three adults have to be in agreement.

We have to stick together or all five of us will find ourselves in trouble – way deeper than we can imagine.

‘Sara?’

It’s Guy, walking towards me, his feet causing little flurries as he struggles through the dry sand. ‘What are you thinking?’

‘What to have for dinner,’ I say. ‘What do you think?’

‘Sorry.’ Guy sits down next to me and wipes his forehead.

The sun’s higher in the sky now, beginning to give us the full force of its heat.

I pull my right foot back into the shadow of the tree before it starts to burn.

My pulse throbs at my temples. ‘I came to say that the kids are back on the dune now. We can see them. So … uh.’

I shove my head between my knees as if I can block it all out.

‘Do you really think we can get away with this?’

‘I do. But we need to act quickly and get the hell out of here. Not just the desert; the country.’

I turn to look at Guy. He’s staring into the distance. My eyes follow his. He’s watching the kids on the dune. Every now and then I catch a note of the engine sound as Flynn opens the throttle.

‘We’re leaving in two days anyway,’ I say.

‘But still … staying in the compound where she lives … lived. It depends how quickly she’s reported missing.

If it’s while we’re still here, the police will be everywhere, knocking on doors, asking questions, and then we’re in the firing line.

Best we just leave. We can change our flights online and get out of here. ’

‘Oh my God. I mean, shit.’

‘We’re lucky her flatmates are away. But they might start coming back soon. Every moment longer we stay, the more complicated it becomes. And let’s not forget the neighbours. Everyone’ll ask “where is Celine?” I mean she was hardly a wallflower, was she?’

Was she? Guy’s use of the past tense jars me as it brings home the fact that she’s dead.

I swat at a fly that buzzes around my head, mirroring the thoughts buzzing in my mind.

Stay; go; be responsible; run away. I can think of another option, but it would involve one of us sacrificing themselves – but who?

‘We could do it another way?’ I say. ‘One adult could stay. The other two could leave with both kids. The person who stays could call the police and explain they were camping alone with Celine and she died in the night. Then the kids get to go back home, and only one of us faces the music.’ I pause. ‘It’s a compromise.’

Guy looks at me with his mouth hanging open.

‘Are you absolutely nuts? That’s insane!

So, you want one of us to just wave goodbye to our kid now and maybe never, ever see them again?

Because, honey, if that person is found guilty of causing Celine’s death, they’re looking at life.

We’ve no idea why she died. If there’s evidence of an injury, the police’ll want answers! ’

I swallow. He’s right. An injury. Oh, God.

‘You want one of us to take that risk? Gamble their life on this? No way. I won’t allow it.

’ Guy’s talking so intensely that spit gathers on his lips, and he stops to lick it off.

‘Sara. Listen to me. I know this isn’t how we would normally behave but these are extenuating circumstances.

Trust me. We are not phoning the police. ’

I stay silent.

‘Whatever we do, it isn’t going to bring her back. Think about it that way.’

‘Do you promise that you and Margot won’t … turn against me?’

‘Sara,’ Guy says. ‘Hand on heart. We’re in this together.

All three of us.’ I can feel the heat radiating off his body next to me.

He puts his hand on my bare knee, which startles me, but then he gives it a gentle squeeze and it’s strangely soothing – a human touch in this terrible moment.

A touch telling me that he’s here with me, that I’m not alone.

But it undoes me and my head collapses into my hands.

‘I just feel so guilty,’ I sob through my fingers. ‘She was fine last night. Everything was fine – we were dancing. And then …’ I shake my head, trying to understand, but it’s too big, too serious.

‘Hey, hey, hey,’ Guy says. ‘It’s not your fault.

Are you worried because you said she was okay last night?

Is that what this is about? Because, listen to me: she said she was fine and she acted like she was fine.

She didn’t even want you to take a look at her.

It isn’t your fault. You’re as innocent in this as we all are. ’

I can’t speak.

‘We’d all been drinking,’ Guy continues. ‘No one was in a fit state to drive, certainly not through the desert in the pitch black. That would have been incredibly risky. Not to mention that we’d have been drink-driving – which is also a crime here.’

‘Leaving a body in the desert probably racks up more of a penalty than drink-driving,’ I say facetiously.

Guy clicks his tongue. ‘Stop it. This is no one’s fault.

It’s nothing to do with her falling off the quad bike.

Nothing to do with us at all. Maybe she had a health condition, something none of us could have known about.

A weak heart. A brain aneurysm. She could actually have died anywhere.

But the point for us now is that this has happened.

Nothing we can do will bring her back. So this is the situation we’re in and there are two ways we can deal with it.

Wait around and face unknown, possibly very serious, consequences, or get the fuck out and get on with the rest of our lives.

And I hate to rush you, but the kids are heading back this way. ’