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
‘Yes, it’s me,’ said Riley. ‘I was worried you wouldn’t call, Geoff.’
‘Don’t be worried. Of course I was going to call you. You have a lovely voice by the way, Sally, lyrical, lilting. Are you a singer by any chance?’
‘I’m not a singer, Geoff. I could never stand up on a stage and sing in front of people.’ Clay smiled at the display of diffidence. ‘You’re not from Liverpool, are you, Geoff?’
‘I am from Liverpool.’
‘You have an accent.’
‘Oh yes, I know what you mean,’ he laughed. ‘I spent a lot of time growing up in North Wales. Some of that accent rubbed off on me, I guess.’
‘Whereabouts in North Wales?’
‘Flintshire.’
‘That’s a nice part of the world, Geoff. I’ve been there. I’d love to go again.’
‘Maybe we could go together? I could show you all the beauty spots. You did say in your profile that you liked long romantic walks in the countryside.’
In the background, they heard a bus speeding past him.
‘Did you know, Geoff, if you look across the river near where I live on a clear day, you can see the outline of Moel Fammau?’
‘Where do you live?’
‘Off Riverside Drive, just by Otterspool Promenade. Do you know it?’
‘I haven’t been there for a long time, but yes, I know the prom.’
‘Where do you live, Geoff?’
‘Gateacre. I’ve got a cottage.’
‘A cottage? Sounds cosy.’
‘It’s lovely. You mentioned in your profile you love real coal fires.’
‘I love roaring log fires. Drinking wine and making pictures in the glowing coals.’
‘Maybe when we’ve been walking in the countryside we could come home and light the fire, settle in front of it with a nice bottle of red wine.’
‘You’ve got a real coal fire, Geoff?’
‘Yes, I have. Just no one to share it with.’
‘Well, maybe that’s all about to change,’ said Riley, her face set and her eyes burrowing into the phone on the table. ‘Geoff, I know your profile by heart but I was wondering…’
‘Yes?’
‘… if you could tell me something about yourself that isn’t in your profile?’
‘Oohhh, well…’ He fell into a silence that was difficult to read. ‘I kind of get the feeling you want me to make a confession of some sort.’
‘No, I just want to know more about you. I feel like I know you so well already, but I’m really keen to get to know you just that little bit better again.’
‘I do have a confession of sorts to make.’ His tone shifted down a gear.
‘Go on?’ Riley pushed.