Margot pushes her coffee cup to one side. ‘We’ve earmarked that for a nursery and family holiday, which I’m sure you’ll agree is just what the doctor ordered after my recent trauma.’
‘Of course.’
‘I appreciate you thinking of me,’ Margot adds firmly, ‘but I’m going to have to pass this time.’
‘Sorry Liv,’ Anna says, blushing, ‘but again, I’ll also have to decline. But thank you for the offer.’
‘That’s okay, no problem at all,’ I reply breezily. ‘I thought it was worth asking my two closest friends first.’
I have never seen anyone in a greater hurry to leave a room faster than these two. They’re desperate to pick apart our conversation in private.
‘So, what’s everyone got planned for the rest of the day?’ I ask. ‘I’m going on my first run since the accident.’
‘Are you fit enough?’ Margot asks as if she cares.
‘I’ll find out soon enough. I’ve treated myself to new clothes, trainers and a replacement CamMe.’
‘What’s a CamMe?’ Margot says.
‘It’s a small video camera you wear when you’re doing outdoor activities, like cycling, climbing or running. Its wide lens records everything, giving you that added layer of security should anything happen. Like a hit-and-run.’
‘It’s a shame you weren’t wearing one when you had your accident.’
‘Oh I was,’ I reply.
My words hang there as ice forms across the room. Margo’s expression is the first to freeze.
‘You were?’ she asks, the pitch of her tone noticeably higher.
‘Uh-huh. The force of my landing detached it, because I wasn’t wearing it when I was discovered. And the police didn’t find it because they weren’t looking for it.’
‘That’s a shame,’ she replies.
‘Luckily I discovered it myself a few weeks later, partly submerged in the ditch water. I tried drying it out in the airing cupboard but it wouldn’t work, so I ended up sending it back to the manufacturer in Japan, who got it operational again. I downloaded the images from that day and they’re pin sharp and show everything and everyone involved. Honestly, I can’t recommend these cameras enough, they’re a great investment. Much like my studio.’
Chapter 83
Margot
Oh shit.
Shit shit shit shit shit.
The blood slowly drains from my face as I realise Liv knows it was me who hit her with my car. That I went to check on her, then walked away without calling for help when I thought she was dead. She has me over a barrel and she knows it. She doesn’t want an apology, because she knows my words would be hollow. No, she wants something of worth. Money. Financial retribution.
My brain is like a box of fireworks being lit simultaneously. My thoughts have been ambushed and are firing in every direction and I can’t focus on any of them for more than a couple of seconds at a time.
I don’t know how to find my way out of this. The only thing I do know is that I want to be sick. I realise my hand is circling my stomach as if protecting my unborn child from a threat I didn’t know existed until this very moment.
In desperation, I turn to Anna. But she doesn’t look at me. Liv’s gaze is fixed on Anna, as if she is expecting more. What else could she know?
Chapter 84
Liv
Margot is as white as the ghost of the past that’s come calling. She doesn’t ask what my camera recorded or what I’ve seen, because she doesn’t need to. She knows. She was there.
Anna is already aware of the clip because I showed it to her the morning I followed her to the industrial estate. I remain convinced she was more surprised by the footage itself than she was of Margot’s culpability. She knew.
