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
‘Friday, 3rd December,’ said Francesca. ‘Two days to go.’ She smiled and tried to sound bright but dreaded some demon stepping out of the shadows and causing the mutual decision to go against her profoundest wishes.
‘Maybe we could bring the date closer. Think about it. I’ve really got to go, Francesca. Francesca? Did you change your profile picture for my benefit?’
‘I – I did.’
‘Enjoy your surprise, angel.’
Francesca found herself perfectly still on the middle of the pavement, not aware of how she took the four steps to get there. The rain poured down on to her head and she spoke quietly to herself. ‘Come on, Francesca, get yourself together.’
She looked right and saw the workmen carrying another mirror into the refurbished hairdressers.
‘Fucking hell, it’s slipping out of my hands,’ said the man at the back.
The man at the front stopped and lowered his end down to the pavement.
‘Gently, gently, that’s right.’ At both ends, the mirror rested safely on the pavement. ‘One, two, three, get a grip, up!’
Francesca watched with morbid fascination as the workmen moved slowly through the rain to get the mirror to safety. She saw herself in the rain, a broad smile on her face, and, looking over the shoulder of her own reflection, she saw Norma Maguire on the pavement, an umbrella over her head, a statue in a manual wheelchair – a tiny detail in the background – watching from just outside the door of Maguire Holdings.
Yes, yes, back to work, break time’s over… she commanded herself.
As she turned a half-circle on the pavement, Norma was gone and, for a moment, she wondered if seeing her boss was an optical illusion caused by the giddy excitement of talking directly to James.
Francesca walked back to the office through the rain, the ever-present stone in her soul crumbling into dust, and for the first time since she could remember, when she was a young child, she was excited and happy to be alive.
12
11.21 am
As Detective Sergeant Gina Riley placed Annie Boyd’s two laptops into evidence bags, she looked around the dead woman’s bedroom and imagined the victim’s life flashing before her eyes as she died at the hands of The Ghoul.
Riley had gathered two of Annie’s old iPhones, a digital camera, a locked diary and an address book.
She opened the wardrobe door and saw a row of neatly ordered clothes hanging from a rail and dozens of pairs of shoes stacked on racks with two empty sections that sang poignantly to Riley. The sensible shoes you wore for school, she thought, and the kind of heels for a date.
Sliding the wardrobe door over, she stopped, her attention tripped by a dress at the left end of the rail, protected by a zipped plastic cover.
She took the dress out and made a connection.