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
‘If I turn the audio recorder off, Lydia, anything you say to me can be treated in confidence as long as it doesn’t relate to a criminal offence.’
Clay pressed pause, keeping her left index finger ready to take off the pause depending on what came next out of Lydia’s mouth.
‘Is having a mid-life crisis a criminal offence?’
Clay tried not to smile too broadly at the question, the absurdity cocooning tragedy.
‘In itself, not at all. If the crisis involves criminal offences, then yes it does.’
‘I’m pretty sure…’ Lydia looked down at the desk.
‘At the moment, Lydia, the machine’s not recording. I sense you have a personal problem of an extremely sensitive nature.’
She looked up. ‘Yes! Yes…’
‘Woman to woman,’ said Clay. ‘I’m listening.’
‘Francesca Christie. I think my husband is in love with her. It was just the way he was when he spoke about her. I could tell. There. I’ve said it.’
‘What do you think, Janine?’ asked Clay.
‘I don’t know,’ she replied, with an expression on her face that told Clay she would have much more to say under different circumstances.
‘Maybe, Lydia,’ said Clay, ‘the mid-life crisis isn’t the sole domain of men. Women have problems when they hit middle age. Looks fade, figures fill out, regrets for what could have been mount up as possibilities for what could be diminish. You met Francesca?’
‘Yes.’
‘What was your view of her?’
‘Young, pretty, an absolute sweetheart of a woman in her prime.’
‘You in your twenties, then?’
‘I guess so.’
‘Just because Daniel fell in love with you all those years ago doesn’t mean he’s going to fall in love with a version of your view of how you used to be. I think you’ve been tormenting yourself over phantoms. Mistrust your doubts. Your husband loves you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have called you tonight.’
Lydia was quiet for a long time.
‘I think you’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, DCI Clay.’
‘If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know, Lydia.’
A smile appeared on Lydia’s face like a pale moon forming in the sky on a clear winter evening.
‘I’m glad it’s you he wants help from.’
***
In reception, as Clay watched Lydia and Janine Ball walk through the main doors, she called, ‘Janine, have you got a minute?’
‘Back in a tick, Lydia.’
Janine walked back inside Trinity Road police station and Clay asked, ‘What’s going on?’
She looked around and, Clay guessed, was checking to make sure no one could overhear.