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
Clay stepped closer and, focusing on the woman’s face, felt the breath fleeing from her body and her heart pounding against her ribs.
‘No…’ she whispered to the shadows.
The woman stepped closer and her face was picked out by the lights from the promenade. Clay stared at the woman and saw exactly who she was.
Clay saw herself standing in the mud, stone dead but turning like the living to walk away, barefoot and naked towards the hole in the mud where everything was sucked into the vortex.
She felt her heart beating and the blood rushing through her head.
Clay came out of the Pebbles On The Beach site and looked at her screensaver, Thomas and herself walking in the fallen autumn leaves, at the lakeside in Sefton Park, each holding one of Philip’s hands.
Everyone deserves happiness, she thought, and everyone has the right to seek happiness. Nobody deserves to die because they’re lonely.
28
7.45 am
Neil Wren climbed the stairs with the usual heavy heart for the task ahead. Since he was old enough to go to school, his son had been a nightmare to get out of bed, needing at least ten calls, containing a cocktail of threats and bribes depending upon the mood he was in.
At the top of the stairs, Neil called, ‘Wren!’ with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. ‘Wren! Wren, time to get up, Wren! We’ve got to go to work, Wren! Please don’t make me late, Wren, or the boss will shout at me…’
He knocked on the door and his shoulders sank at the silence behind it.
Neil Wren cursed his sister, Louise, a woman who held sway over Wren, who’d suggested that work experience as an apprentice would be excellent for his one and only son. She had managed to embed the idea into Wren’s head that he would meet people and see a different side of life, confiding in him that all the day centre was doing for him was increasing his anxiety levels and making him more autistic.
‘Wren, come on, mate…’
Neil recalled the time when they’d visited with Wren’s Auntie Louise and his son announced that he would like to work with animals, just like my dad.
‘Wren, I’m coming in!’
His eyes focused on the bed but instead of being a mound under which Wren slept the sleep of the dead, it was made up neatly.
Wren stood in the middle of the room, dressed, smelling of a little too much aftershave and smiling.
‘I’ve brushed my teeth, I’ve washed myself, I’ve put clean underwear on, and I’m ready to go to work. Ready when you are, Dad.’
‘Well, I never—’
‘Surprised, Dad?’
‘Very, very surprised. Well done, Wren. Good lad…’
He noticed the smell of fresh paint and his heart rose.
‘You’re full of surprises, mate.’