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
‘Daniel, I know you’re only thinking of me, which is why I’m not going to get cross, but I do recall we had this conversation around twelve months ago. What did I tell you back then? Do you remember?’
‘You told me that your arms were fully functional and that you weren’t going to give up the right to use the part of yourself that wasn’t disabled.’
She smiled at him and tapped her own head. ‘Nothing’s changed in the past year.’
Norma lifted her hand from the wheel rims and raised her arms.
‘This is my independence.’
‘Point taken, Norma. I won’t mention it again. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. We’re doing just great.’
She turned the wheel rims, the automatic doors opened and winter blasted in her face, making her scrunch her features.
On the pavement, she moved past the glass facade of the trading floor of her business and looked between the photographs of houses for sale in her shop window. She looked directly at Fran, smiling and confident with the young couple on the other side of her desk.
Francesca Christie stood up and, after handing over the keys of 102 Newcastle Road, shook hands with the couple.
I didn’t mean to make you cry, Fran, thought Norma as she passed the fruit and vegetables on the pavement outside the greengrocer’s next door. I was trying to protect you. I was trying to warn you. There are predators out there, very bad men…
Outside the hairdressers, next door but one, at the back of a black van half parked on the narrow kerb, two workmen stepped on to the pavement carrying a large mirror. They stopped in the middle of the pavement, a metre away from Norma, and she froze.
‘Don’t drop it, Gary, for fuck’s sake.’
Norma saw herself reflected perfectly in the surface of the mirror; her limbs, her body, her face.
She closed her eyes tightly, dropped her head and felt the onset of the kind of nausea she knew would inhabit her for hours and a sound in her head like white noise.
‘Hey, lady, I’m sorry…’ He looked directly at her, fell silent and a look of morbid curiosity crossed his face. ‘…We’re blocking your way.’
She curved the wheels of her chair and, turning an arc that used the whole width of the pavement, her back was completely turned to the mirror and the vile reflection on its surface.
Norma wheeled herself away at speed.
She felt the world fly past her in two continuous streams, either side of her throbbing head, cursed the ill-timing of her journey on to the middle of Allerton Road and knew that if she lived for two hundred years she would never come to terms with the sheer abomination of her face.