Page 5 of You Lied First

T he woman yoo-hooing at the edge of the garden is wearing a knee-length swing dress and espadrille wedges that show off her long and lean legs.

Her brown hair is tied back in a shiny ponytail that swishes left and right as she walks towards them.

Guy’s eyes flick to Margot’s for a fraction of a second then he shoves his chair back and meets the woman with his arms wide open.

‘Celine Cremorne! Good God! Look what the cat dragged in,’ he says, looking her up and down as if she’s an apparition. He gives her a big hug and a showy kiss on each cheek as he holds her shoulders. ‘Who on earth would have thought you of all creatures would still be here?’

He leads her back to the table. ‘Celine, this is our friend Sara – the mother of Flynn’s girlfriend. Sara, our old friend Celine. And, of course, you remember Margot.’

‘Flynn has a girlfriend? Get out of here! He’s old enough for that?’ Celine says, laughing.

‘Celine!’ Margot smiles limply. ‘What a surprise!’

Celine grasps Margot’s hand in both of hers. ‘How lovely to see you! My God, it’s been ages.’

She then comes around to me and reaches for my hand, which forces me to half stand, banging my thighs on the table and sloshing the wine in all the glasses.

Celine’s wrist is stacked with gold bracelets that glimmer in the fairy lights and her nails are perfect ovals of orange-red polish. I get a waft of floral perfume.

‘Lovely to meet you,’ I say. She’s pretty, mid- to late twenties, with dark eyes, dimples when she smiles, and very white, very even teeth.

‘I just got in and I saw someone by the pool,’ Celine says. ‘I think to myself, “That looks like little Flynn all grown-up!” But then I’m like, “No, that gorgeous apparition surely can’t be!” So I come over, and there he is. I couldn’t believe it! I haven’t even been in the front door yet.’

‘Will you join us for a drink?’ Guy asks. ‘I want to hear what you’ve been up to.’

Celine pulls out a chair for herself. ‘Ha ha. You know how it is. Same old, same old. But yeah, sure! Why not? Chardonnay, if there’s one going.’

Guy disappears into the villa to get her a glass and there’s a moment of awkward silence before Celine says, ‘So … here on holiday?’

‘Yep,’ Margot replies. ‘Just a week. Back home for New Year.’

‘Cool. So, how’s your dad?’ She beams at Margot in a way that looks overly innocent.

‘Stable, thanks,’ Margot says, maintaining eye contact with Celine.

I wait for her to elaborate but she doesn’t and I wonder what the hell is going on.

‘How do you know each other?’ I ask because the conversation about Margot’s dad hasn’t led anywhere.

‘We were neighbours when these guys lived here,’ Celine says. ‘They were in that villa.’ She twists around and points. ‘Diagonally across from me.’

‘Oh,’ I say. ‘That’s nice.’

‘It was!’ Guy says as he returns to the table. ‘We had a good time, didn’t we?’

‘My lips are sealed,’ Celine says.

Margot coughs. ‘Went down the wrong way,’ she says putting her hand to her chest.

Guy pours wine for Celine and tops up his own glass after waving the bottle questioningly at Margot and me. ‘So, tell us. How are you? What’s been going on since we left?’

Celine laughs. ‘You know me. Trying to stay out of trouble!’

‘Still teaching?’

‘Yeah, same school. I’m head of year now. Year four.’

‘Congrats. That’s brilliant.’

‘Thanks. And what about you guys? How’s it going in Blighty? Are you still making those toy houses, Margot?’

I cringe. Margot makes replicas of people’s homes as doll’s houses – small maybe, but they’re not ‘toys’. In fact, they take months to make, cost so much that people joke about mortgaging them, and even become family heirlooms. I’ve read about her company, Margot’s Mansions, in the paper.

Margot smiles peacefully, not rising to the bait. ‘Indeed I am.’

‘And she has a new boss now,’ Guy says, his eyes twinkling. ‘I’m the CEO, in charge of the company’s direction and disciplining my sole worker!’

Margot’s smile widens. It’s clearly fake, and when Guy tries to pat her hand, she pulls it away.

‘Don’t worry,’ Guy chuckles, ‘we all know who the real boss is.’

I smile uneasily.

‘That’s great!’ Celine says. ‘I remember when you were first starting out and it was just a hobby.’ She clucks her tongue and shakes her head in admiration.

‘I’m glad it’s working out. I bet it’s difficult to get away when you’re self-employed.

So what have you got planned this week? You have to have breakfast at Nana’s. It’s my new favourite place.’

‘We’re going to drive around a bit tomorrow, see old haunts, see what’s new, show Sara the lay of the land,’ Guy says.

Celine turns to me. ‘Nice. And what about you? Is it your first time here? Is there anything in particular you want to see?’

‘I’m just happy to be here,’ I say. ‘I’ll do whatever you all advise. You’re the experts. It’ll be nice to look around tomorrow. Get my bearings.’

‘Well, I mean, if you need a tour guide, I’m free tomorrow. Why don’t I come along?’

‘Really?’ I ask. I’d love her to join us – she seems fun.

‘Yes, why don’t you?’ Guy says. ‘The more the merrier. The car seats seven, so … yalla! Let’s go! ’

‘ Yalla ,’ echoes Margot, but I notice that big smile is gone.