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
‘My mother’s got Alzheimer’s. I don’t know how much longer I can keep her at home. I don’t want to put her into care but the periods of clarity are diminishing and the confused times are getting longer and more severe.’
‘Just as a matter of interest,’ said Winters. ‘Why are we having this conversation here?’
‘I couldn’t work tonight because my regular babysitter…’ She rolled her eyes. ‘And mother sitter couldn’t make it. Like I was going to meet you somewhere else and leave my mother in charge of Charlie and David.’
‘I did wonder.’
Her face lit up as if she’d had a moment of pure inspiration. Susan walked to the pad of shopping lists on the wall unit next to the oven, tore off the top sheet and removed the pen that was held next to the paper by a magnet. She placed the paper on top of the nearest unit and, briefly, wrote down a few words.
Walking towards Winters, she folded the paper into
four.
‘Ask the person interviewing him to ask him what he got up to in the Travelodge with Marlene Black. The answer’s on this piece of paper.’
As Susan handed Winters the folded paper, through the baby monitor there were the opening notes of a very young child waking up in the night.
‘I have baby monitors in every downstairs room in the house. You never quite know where you’re going to be when they need you most.’
She opened the kitchen door and headed to the stairs.
‘Can you see yourself out, Clive. I’m not being rude.’ The sound of one of her sons crying floated down the stairs as she hurried up them. ‘I’m sorry, but you’ve completely got the wrong man.’
95
11. 15 pm
Francesca Christie blinked.
It seemed to take a whole minute for her eyelids to open and reconnect.
She blinked again, felt the weight of her eyelids like a pair of wall-mounted tapestries.
She counted slowly as she blinked again. Four seconds, not sixty.
Francesca heard her own breath and listened for other clues in the building beyond the impenetrable darkness around her, but all that came back was silence.
Pulling at the chains that bound her, there was no slack and no sign of weakness where the first metal link was buried in the wall.
I cannot move. I cannot escape…
Her flow of thought was interrupted by a sound from the next room.
It was an in-breath, followed by a sigh of the deepest satisfaction.
Someone, something, was moving behind the adjoining wall and door.
A key turned in the lock and her heart overflowed with dread.
The door opened and the hinge creaked like a pair of deaf people attempting song.
Red light poured in through the open doorway and she tried not to think what was coming next.