First Date: An absolutely jaw-dropping psychological thriller

by Sue Watson

  ‘No, I don’t,’ I admit. ‘So let’s not talk about it, I don’t want you and me to fall out,’ I say firmly.

  ‘Yeah, absolutely. No man will come between me and my sister, am I right?’

  We continue to chat, and neither of us refer to Alex or his picnic, we just laugh about funny stuff, times we got so drunk we couldn’t stand up, the time we swapped phones and texted men the other one fancied – mature, sophisticated stuff like that. But it’s fun, and I’m reminded why we’re such good friends: we make each other laugh, and have each other’s back.

  The evening continues. Jas, as usual, sees a guy who she thinks is cute. He’s standing at the bar with his friends and by 10 p.m. she’s demanding I go over and talk to them with her.

  ‘I don’t want to,’ I say. ‘Take Sameera.’

  ‘Oh, she won’t come and chat up men with me – she’s getting married in January, she’s no fun.’

  ‘Go to the bar and send him over a drink, that way the barman will do your bidding,’ I suggest, poking my finger at her, aware I might be slurring slightly.

  ‘I couldn’t do that, it’s weird.’

  ‘No it isn’t.’ I’m waving my arms about. ‘Jas… Jas, listen. Go and get what you want,’ I slur, now talking absolute rubbish, but as I’m four glasses in, I think I’m a great philosopher and therefore qualified to advise and pontificate at full volume. ‘See your prey – and go for it – don’t stop until you get it.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ Harry says, raising his glass. He’s taking the piss as usual, but he’s never mean, it’s always with affection.

  ‘You know it, mate,’ I say, slapping him on the back a little too hard in my drink-fuelled enthusiasm. ‘Look at you and Gemma, you’re perfect together, and you had to force yourself to go into the café that day and ask her out.’

  He nods, and Sameera points out that she waited four years for her fiancé to even notice her.

  ‘Yes, love, but he was married,’ Margaret sagely points out, her face taut with disapproval. It’s after her bedtime, and she really needs to get back to feed her two cats, but, God bless her, she’s sticking it out, ‘for the young ones’.

  ‘Yeah, but I knew, I knew as soon as I saw him,’ Sameera says. ‘And, in my defence, she’d already cheated – and they were in an unhappy marriage.’ She giggles and Harry giggles and their heads lean together and we’re all laughing for no reason when some young girl wanders past and settles on a nearby table with her friend, clearly giving Harry the eye.

  ‘He’s taken,’ I say loudly, ‘so move on, love.’ I collapse into giggles.

  ‘Hannah, what’s got into you? She can look—’ Harry starts.

  ‘But she can’t touch!’ I slur, and Jas and I laugh long and loud.

  ‘Don’t worry about Harry,’ Jas says out of his earshot, ‘he wouldn’t stray, too happy with Gem. I knew she’d be perfect for him when I first saw her in the café – they’re so cute. I really have a knack for putting people together.’

  ‘Yeah you’re a genius, Jas.’ I laugh. ‘I just hope they last, they’re so young.’

  ‘Yeah, they make me feel old. Gemma’s only twenty-two. Shit, I just realised – I’m old enough to be her mother.’

  ‘Yeah makes you feel ancient doesn’t it?’ I nod, feeling quite tipsy, and clearly so is Jas, but we’ve hit a low point, we’re not laughing at everything any more. ‘It’s like drinking,’ I say. ‘This prosecco’s really getting to me, is that because I’m getting old?’

  She laughs. ‘No, you’re just not used to going out on benders any more. That’s what comes with being in a couple, you don’t go out drinking like you do when you’re single. When Tony was alive, I hardly ever went out drinking – didn’t need to.’ Jas looks a bit sad.

  ‘I reckon I’ll always want to go out drinking,’ I say to bring her round a little, don’t want her to be upset thinking about her husband. ‘I just wish I didn’t feel so pissed so early, it’s not 10.30 yet.’

  ‘Don’t you worry, I’ve got your back,’ she says, putting her arm around me. ‘And if you get too pissed, you can always stay at mine.’ Then suddenly she stops smiling. ‘Well, what a surprise.’ She nods her head over at the bar.

  My eyes follow where she’s looking, and there he is.

  Alex is sitting at the bar, having a drink.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  ‘How long’s he been there?’ I ask Jas.

  ‘No idea, I only just noticed him. Bloody weird him turning up on your office do.’ She pretends to laugh, and winks at me like she’s making a joke. I know she isn’t.

  I tell her I’ll be back in a minute and leave the table to go and see him. I’m not sure how I feel about him turning up like this.

  ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’ I say, approaching him and going in for a hug as he climbs off his bar stool to greet me.

  He hesitates. ‘I know you said you didn’t need a lift, but I was worried about you. I texted and called, but you didn’t answer. I thought something might have happened.’

  ‘I’d turned my phone off because I wanted to get work done. I must have forgot to put it back on,’ I say, taking my phone out and switching it on to see a lot of messages and missed calls. All from Alex. ‘Alex, when I’m out, or if I’m busy, you mustn’t be worried if I don’t answer immediately. There must be twenty texts here,’ I say, holding out my phone.

  He shrugs. ‘But if you don’t answer, what am I expected to think?’

  ‘That I’m out enjoying myself and that’s why I’m not answering?’ I’m trying to be firm, but it isn’t easy as I’m aware the room’s spinning slightly.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it annoyed you.’ He sits back on the bar stool.

  ‘It doesn’t – but I’m out with my friends. If I answered every text and responded to every call, I wouldn’t get a chance to join in would I?’

  ‘Just go back to your friends and “join in” then. I’ll go home, you clearly don’t want me spoiling your night.’ He turns away and faces the bar, as if he can’t bear to look at me.

  ‘Oh, Alex, stop playing the victim. All I’m saying is you can trust me… That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Helen hurt you and you’re expecting me to do the same.’ I lean back on the bar to face him, pushing my face into his rather inelegantly, my spatial awareness impaired by prosecco.

  ‘Actually, it isn’t about me not trusting you,’ he says, pulling away from me.

  ‘Oh, so what then? Did you think Helen had got me down a dark alley? I can defend myself,’ I half joke.

  ‘Thing is… she was here tonight.’

  ‘Here? In the bar… this bar?’ I’m finding it hard to speak.

  ‘That’s why I’ve been trying to call and message you all evening. I saw on the app that she was in the area, probably this bar but of course it’s not that accurate. I was worried she might do something.’ This feels like a sharp slap through the alcohol haze. I’m aware this is bad news but can’t articulate how I feel. Then my legs start to buckle.

  ‘Is she… is she here now?’ I gaze around, but everything’s blurry.

  ‘No, it was earlier,’ he says.

  I’m now leaning on him as he sits on the bar stool, aware I should really stand up unaided, but not sure I can.

  Alex holds me gently by the upper arms. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ I’m upset by what he’s just told me. I’d hoped it was all over, that she’d moved on. But in my drunken state I’m unable to comprehend what it all means, or even form words.

  ‘You can see why I had to be here can’t you? I was so worried,’ he’s saying. ‘I think it best if we get out of here, I’ll drive you to mine when you’re ready.’

  Even feeling like I do, I’m aware he’s taking over, making decisions about what I’m going to do. But I can’t let him. ‘I can’t just abandon everyone,’ I say.

  ‘You don’t have to, I said when you’re ready. I’ll just wait here for you until you’ve finish
ed with your friends.’ He discreetly glances over at our table, adding, ‘I care about what happens to you, unlike your boss, who’s giving us daggers.’

  ‘Is she?’ I turn quickly to look, and catch Jas’s eye.

  She mouths, ‘Are you okay?’ and I nod. Then she turns back to chat with Sameera.

  I turn to Alex, who’s smirking. ‘See?’ he says.

  ‘She’s only checking if I’m okay, she’s not giving us daggers.’

  He shrugs and orders me a drink, a large glass of Merlot, but I’m currently sharing a second bottle of prosecco with Jas and I told her I’d be back in a minute. I realise that we’ve gone from me being out with my friends and going back to my place to him being here, drinking with me and planning to go back to his. I feel like protesting, but at the same time, I’m feeling very tipsy and if Helen’s on the prowl, the last place I want to be tonight is at my place on my own.

  I glance back at my friends. Jas is really animated about something, and Sameera’s looking doubtful, and it makes me think how strong Jas can be – and how manipulative. She’s probably convincing Sameera to change her whole wedding colour scheme, or the honeymoon. Jas really does love to be involved in everyone’s business, and where I’ve always thought it’s because she cares, Alex has made me see her from a different perspective. He says she likes to be in control, arranging everything and everyone around herself. I hadn’t realised this before, but tonight, for instance, she chose the venue, the timing for the meal, and even ordered a round of Porn Star Martinis – her favourite cocktail – for everyone. And glancing over at her now, with the others, across the bar, everyone wearing bunny ears – it was her idea. She’s kind and fun and bought a pair for everyone, but it’s funny how Jas’s are the biggest and the only ones with flashing lights. I wouldn’t have even noticed that before, but now I see there’s more to it. She makes herself the centre of attention, being loud and hilarious, making everyone laugh, as they dance to her tune. If you didn’t know, you’d think it was her hen night.

  Alex is now chatting away, his hand on my knee. He passes me the large glass of wine and, as I take it from him, I almost drop my handbag. He picks it up and helps me onto a stool, which I’m finding more precarious than I’d thought, and I’m glad he’s here because he’s basically holding me up.

  I take a sip, a large one, and feel Jas’s eyes boring into the back of my head. ‘I should go back,’ I say, gazing over.

  ‘Darling, of course, but you seem very tired – or drunk. Don’t you think it might be time to go home?’

  I do feel ready for bed, and even if I stay, the last thing I want to do is stand outside in the freezing cold waiting for a taxi. In fact, I’m not sure I can stand at the moment full stop. A ride home in Alex’s warm car is definitely a better option.

  ‘I want to go, but it’s a bit awkward. We were having a nice time, Jas and I were bonding – again,’ I admit. And it had been nice. She’d seemed less bitter, less confrontational tonight… until Alex had turned up.

  ‘That’s good, but you need to make it very clear to Jas that what you want has to come first sometimes. I’m happy to give them all a lift home, if that helps?’

  I take another sip of Merlot just because it’s there, I don’t want it, I know I’ve had enough and the room is already swaying. ‘Okay, so I’ll go over and say, “Alex has come to collect us, so if Jas wants a ride home, she’d better be nice to him”,’ I say loudly.

  Alex smirks. ‘I don’t think she’s going to take that too well. Perhaps save it for another time,’ he says, patting my arm. ‘Actually, I’m not sure I can fit everyone in the car, and we don’t want to be waiting for them to finish their drinks and say their goodbyes. The state you’re in, I don’t think we should hang around. They can make their own way home can’t they?’

  He’s looking at me with such sincerity, I can’t help but feel grateful he’s here. After all, Sameera’s fiancé hasn’t offered to pick us up, but Alex has come out to make sure I’m okay, and he did offer to try and fit everyone in the car. I realise I am really, really drunk, and it’s making me feel a bit vulnerable and clingy, and I just want him to take me home and tuck me in.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t check my phone earlier, babe,’ I slur, feeling a bit wobbly. ‘I’m glad you’re here. I feel safe and… I’ve never felt so… cared for… so loved,’ I add. ‘I love being with you,’ I gush.

  He puts his arm around me, looking down into my eyes, and I feel happy, even though I’m experiencing the sensation that the floor is coming up to meet my face. I automatically take another sip of Merlot and Alex looks a little surprised.

  ‘Steady.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ I try to sound sober, but I’m finding it increasingly hard and this latest glass seems to have just about wiped me out. ‘I’ll just finish this and then we’ll be off,’ I say, attempting to climb down from the stool I’ve been barely sitting on.

  Alex is smiling indulgently. ‘Hannah, I don’t think you’re going to make it.’ He holds out his arms to me as I teeter on the stool.

  ‘Shall we get the others over here to have a last drink with us?’ I say, about to beckon them over.

  Alex shakes his head and helps me down from the wobbly stool. ‘I hate to be the party pooper, but I think the only thing you’re fit for is bed,’ he says.

  ‘I’m only a little tipsy,’ I say, aware that the word tipsy isn’t coming from my lips, just a strange jumble of sounds. I finally manage to climb down from the stool with a lot of help from Alex. ‘I’m just tipsy, that’s all,’ I repeat, but again it’s just an attempt at sounds, and the sober part of my brain knows that the more I say it, the less convincing I am. ‘Jas kept pouring prosecco into my glass,’ I say, then I giggle. Too much.

  ‘Oh did she now? I’ll have to have a word with her,’ Alex says, disapprovingly.

  ‘It’s okay, you don’t need to have a word with her. I’ll just tell her next time not to keep filling my glass… I can look after myself, Alex,’ I slur as I almost trip over my handbag.

  ‘Hannah, you can’t look after yourself right now. Bloody hell, it’s a good job I’m here,’ he says, concern written on his face as he picks up my bag from the floor.

  ‘Thank you.’ I look up and his eyes are on mine. I know even in this state he wants to kiss me. I can see it. I want to kiss him too, but I’m moving between happy, tipsy and slurry, to nauseous. I can feel it building and I must be pale because Alex has stopped smiling.

  ‘Do we need to get you outside?’ he asks gently, and the act of nodding makes my head hurt and something rises quickly up my oesophagus. I start to retch, and I’m aware of Alex moving me firmly away from the bar and guiding me through the crowded restaurant. At speed.

  Once outside, the freezing night air hits, nausea overwhelms me and I throw up. In front of him. Spectacularly.

  As I lift my head, I almost faint, and despite feeling so terrible, I am stung by deep embarrassment. How could I let myself get like this? I still feel quite sick and I’m worried there may be more. I try to say this, but I can’t, I’m unable to form words. Prosecco’s never done this to me before.

  Through all this, Alex is wonderful; I don’t know what I’d have done without him. He takes off his jacket and puts it around my shoulders. I’m irrationally tearful, I’ve seen men do this for other women, but until now, never me. And with my puke on the floor, and the strong possibility of more to come, I’m filled with such love for Alex I just start crying.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ I keep repeating.

  ‘Darling, really, it’s fine. These things happen…’

  ‘I’m embarrassed.’

  ‘Don’t be. I’m here for you. I love you whatever you do, you know that. Now let’s get you in the car.’ He walks me round the back to the car park, where he carefully folds me into the passenger seat. ‘Let’s get you home, safe and sound.’

  ‘My friends?’ I say. ‘I should say good… good… bye.’ My head feels like lead and i
t drops forward involuntarily. My eyes close, even though I don’t want them to. I’ve never felt as drunk as this before.

  ‘Give me your phone and I’ll text Jas and let her know you’re leaving, otherwise she’ll be calling you every five minutes.’ He opens my bag and takes out my phone. ‘What’s your pin?’

  ‘Pins?’

  ‘To get into your phone, so I can let them know you’re safe and going home.’

  ‘Oh… all the fives. Are we going home then? Tell Jas she can squeeze in here next to me…’ I mumble. I can’t think straight, nothing makes sense, and suddenly Helen is chasing me down the high street, she’s screaming at me, and darkness is washing over me like a big, black wave, obliterating us. And everything goes black.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I wake up the next morning in Alex’s bed with the worst headache I’ve ever had.

  ‘I don’t know how much I drank last night, but I’ve never felt as bad as this in my whole life,’ I say, as I slowly sit up.

  Alex is standing over me with a breakfast tray that he places carefully on my knees. I look up into his soft, kind eyes and again feel a flash of resentment for Jas calling him my butler. It’s December, but he’s managed to find the sweetest strawberries, and also on the tray is a plate of pancakes with wedges of lemon, a bottle of maple syrup, a cafetière and two cups. I want to hug him for caring so much.

  ‘That coffee smells good,’ I say, as he pours the steaming brown liquid into the mugs and joins me back in bed, where we eat breakfast. Saturday morning, no work today, outside it’s frosty and inside under the duvet it’s warm. Our bodies touch as we eat, and I can feel Alex’s heat, the smell of last night’s aftershave, musky, with a syrupy balm, and that echo of secret smoke, that I’m sure only I can detect. ‘Pancakes and coffee – best ever hangover food!’ I say, pushing the sweet, spongy dough into my mouth.

  ‘A hangover? Is that what you have?’