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
She had laid him on the floor, reminding him with a finger over her own lips and a whispered hush of the need for complete silence.
She had unbuckled the safety pins on either side of his nappy, removing the soaked white garment from his body.
In a drawer, she took a clean, dry nappy and wrapped it round his hips and the space between his legs.
Hush now… hussshhhh…
He was lighter when she lifted him from the floor and placed him back inside his cot. His eyes had tracked her as she moved silently across the floor.
‘I’ll be back,’ she whispered to his unflinching gaze. ‘I promise you, I’ll be back.’
As she reached the top of the stairs with provisions, in a bedroom some doors away her father snored and the sudden sound almost made her scream with fright.
‘For fuck’s sake…’ Her mother’s voice sounded in the pit of night.
She hurried along the landing, fearful that her mother might leave the parental bedroom and seek a quieter space to sleep, catching her on the hop, out of bed and stealing food for her baby.
The sheets and blankets rustled in her parents’ room and she guessed that her mother had hibernated in their bed, burying her head and ears under the warmth of the materials that comforted them in the cold grip of winter.
She avoided the places on the carpet beneath which the floorboards creaked like demons posted by her mother and father to alert them to the place, time and progress of their children.
His breathing was heavy. Her baby. Her baby brother. Her baby.
The light sharpened as she entered his room, when a night cloud sailed away from the beaming moon.
His hands, his fingers opened and closed, opened and closed, over the wooden frame of his cot. He opened his mouth and the noise of staunched tears made the silence between the walls more dense than it had ever felt to her.
She handed him the cup of milk and watched him drink from the lip as if his life depended on it.
He swayed in the cot and caught on to it with his left hand, stopping himself from falling on to his bottom.
She threw an arm around him and held on to him as tightly as she could, as if the world was… that feeling when she woke up suddenly in the dark… on the verge of collapse.
He stayed on his feet and she let go degree by painful degree.
Whatever was going on, the moon danced in his eyes, and she smiled at him and he smiled back.
His hands, his fingers opened and closed, opened and closed, over the wooden frame of his cot.
She took a biscuit from the pocket of her dressing gown, placed it in his hand and he devoured it before she had time to pick out the next one.