She went into the kitchen and found a cloth under the sink, took a small bottle of water from the fridge. She checked through the entrance hall window for anyone out on the front driveway then, satisfied it was deserted, she took the keys from a hook by the front door and walked down the sweeping stone staircase that curved out onto the drive. Their hire car, a Ford Fiesta, was the cheapest one they could get that would still fit two lanky teenage boys in the back – just about – and all of their luggage.

Jennifer walked a slow circle around the car, running her eye over the paintwork, the bumpers, the trim. There were a couple of new scrapes on the paintwork, low down near the offside rear tyre. They’d not been there when they’d picked the car up from the airport four days previously. She squatted down, examining them more closely and touching an index finger to the metal. Parallel scratches in the bodywork, probably from a low wall or a boulder by the side of the road. But not deep. Not too hard to hide.

She poured water from the bottle into a patch of earth in the flowerbed, dabbed the cloth in the wet mud, and smeared some dirt over the scratches – just enough to disguise the new marks. It had to be carefully done, so it just looked like the regular dirt you might get from driving around the French countryside.

Superficial stuff could be covered like that, well enough to fool the rental company inspection when they returned the car in three days’ time. We don’t want to get hit with a hefty repair bill, do we? Such a rip-off, anyway. They tried to charge you hundreds of euros for even the tiniest dent. Anything deeper would need a trip to a garage before they returned the car on Saturday.

Luckily, it looked like these scratches were covered pretty well. She stood up and admired her handiwork, looking at the smudges of dirt and adding some more near the front wheel, so the marks were more consistent. When it dried, it would disguise the marks well enough.

With that done, she took the key fob from her pocket and unlocked the doors. Opening the driver’s side door, she pulled the seat forward, back to where she usually had it. Then she locked the Fiesta again and went back inside.

Chapter 55

55

It was my turn to do the dishes after dinner. I was glad of the distraction, the chance to be away from the others for a little while, away from making polite conversation, away from having to pretend that everything was normal.

Away from Sean.