Chapters (156)
- A DATE WITH DEATH
- Also by Mark Roberts
- A Date With Death
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- The Past
- 1977
- Day OneWednesday, 1st December 2021CatoptrophobiaFear of mirrors
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- The Past
- 1979
- Day TwoThursday, 2nd December 2021OneirophobiaFear of dreams
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- The Past
- 1980
- Day ThreeFriday, 3rd December 2021MonophobiaFear of being alone
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- The Past
- 1982
- Day FourSaturday, 4th December 2021ThanatophobiaFear of Death
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
- 136
- 137
- About the Author
- An Invitation from the Publisher
She watched the car travel further and further up Jericho Lane, its rear lights turning into illuminated pinpricks before dissolving into the dark.
‘Go!’
Francesca took a long in-breath through her nose, tasted blood in her mouth and on her lips as she turned on to Jericho Lane and caught the edge of The Ghoul’s natural body odour.
‘When I tell you, when we get near the top of the road, you turn right and stop your car near the gateway into Otterspool Park.’
She turned into the darkness at the gateway.
‘Turn your engine off. Get out of the car. Walk.’
The point of the knife was in her back; she could feel its jagged tooth through her clothes and a ripple of electricity ran down her spine. Francesca made out the shape of another vehicle in the shadows at the gateway and, fifteen metres away on Aigburth Road, she heard streams of traffic heading in two directions.
The parked car. She was marched round the back, her eyes almost blind with tears. The boot was thrown up.
‘Get in. Shut the fuck up with the tears.’
She wiped her eyes and watched as The Ghoul opened a vial of liquid and noticed there was no smell as it was handed to her.
‘Drink it! All of it!’
A fist formed high above her head.
She swallowed the tasteless liquid and curled into the foetal position.
‘And, so, off she floats to nowhere.’
The Ghoul slammed the boot down and condemned her to the darkness.
Francesca heard the engine come to life, felt the motion of a moving vehicle, and had the urge to shut her eyes as the ropes that tied her to consciousness unknotted quickly. Within moments, she was no longer locked in the boot of a car.
She was gone.
52
9.59 pm
Norma Maguire sat at the wheel of her Vauxhall Combo WAV, driving down Regent Road on to Crosby Road South, her head full of Francesca Christie.
She imagined her sitting in her bedroom communicating on her laptop with some creep or other, passing sick-making lovey-dovey notes and blithely turning her back on the real love that she had to offer.
Norma opened her window and heard the sound of the Irish Sea as it lapped against the sands of Crosby Beach.
She marvelled at the sudden and brutal manner in which Fran announced her departure.
‘If you can’t beat them, join them, Fran,’ she whispered into the darkness.
She remembered the small but significant band of ungrateful defectors. They walked through her mind like restless ghosts, the expression on their faces as they told her they were leaving seared on to her brain.
One, two, three, four and five and now a sixth. Fran.