First Date: An absolutely jaw-dropping psychological thriller

by Sue Watson

  ‘Of course,’ he said, a coffee in one hand, toast in the other. ‘I’m going to go in there today, see my friend at the station, tell him everything, and see what we can do.’

  ‘You don’t mean try to get out of it?’ I’m still uneasy about what happened last night.

  ‘No, but there might be a way I can come clean, come to some private arrangement with the guy – compensation or something?’

  ‘Okay, fair enough.’

  ‘After all, I can’t be unemployed now, I have a future wife and kids to think about.’ He beams. ‘Not to mention keeping Kevin in dog food!’

  I don’t answer him. He’s talking about a wife, but I don’t recall a marriage proposal – or me saying yes. Alex gets so carried away with his plans, and he’s so meticulous he’s basically made it impossible for me not to go on the trip to Devon. On the other hand, what harm can a couple of days away do? Perhaps spending time together, with no distractions, will give me a chance to decide what I really want. If I start to feel okay with him again, then perhaps we can work things out? If not, then I have to find my way out of this.

  I call the hospital to ask about Chloe. They’ve moved her from ICU so I should be able to see her, so I leave the house and head straight there. So much has happened since yesterday I feel like it’s been weeks since I saw her, and a little part of me is desperately hoping to arrive and find her sitting up in bed. I take her a box of brownies and a fashion magazine, but the nurse on the desk tells me there’s been no change. As her social worker, I’m granted access, and the nurse shows me into her room.

  ‘Has her mum been in?’ I ask the nurse, knowing that for someone in a coma, friends and family are encouraged to sit with them, talk to them.

  ‘Yeah, she’s only just gone home to change her clothes, she’s been here since yesterday,’ the nurse says.

  Looks like Carol has finally started to step up, which is something, even if it is too little too late.

  I’m shocked when I get into the room to see Chloe covered in tubes and monitors. A machine is breathing for her and her skin is white, like porcelain. Only the monitor above her bed gives any sign of life, and I know the chances are slim for Chloe right now.

  Being in here reminds me of the first time I came into a room like this, years before, when I was much younger. My mum lay in a tangle of tubes just like this. I touched her white, papery flesh, the dark skin around the eyes – the track marks – before I said goodbye. I can’t bear to say goodbye to Chloe though – I can’t let her slip through my fingers too.

  ‘I can only let you have a couple of minutes,’ the nurse says, before disappearing.

  I sit next to Chloe’s bed and touch her hand. ‘I think I’ve let you down, Chloe,’ I say, ‘but I promise, if you wake up, I’ll be here for you.’

  I open the brownies and put them near her face, hoping the aroma of chocolate will wake her, but nothing. I talk to her as I flick through the glossy magazine, knowing she likes this kind of thing – fashion, celebrities, a totally different world to the one Chloe lives in.

  Ten minutes later, the nurse comes back and tells me I have to go. I leave the magazine, and ask her to give Chloe’s mum my regards, and say I’ll be back tomorrow. I doubt Carol will want to see me, she doesn’t like social workers. Harry said she was a nightmare when he worked with Chloe, so I know it isn’t just me.

  I leave the hospital feeling like a failure, desperate for Chloe to wake up, to pull through, so I can prove to her and myself that there is redemption, hope – a future.

  As soon as I arrive at work, Jas grabs me. ‘Hey, did you see anything last night?’

  ‘What?’ I ask.

  ‘When you left the bar? Apparently, some guy almost killed another guy on the pavement outside.’

  ‘Oh no… it… must have been after I left,’ I lie, hoping she can’t hear my heart loudly thumping.

  ‘Yeah, they brought him into the bar. He looked awful, blood everywhere.’

  Nausea sweeps through me. ‘Oh God. Was he okay?’

  ‘Don’t know, they called an ambulance.’

  ‘Did they… get the guy who did it?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I mean he was talking, but I don’t think he knew who it was…’

  ‘Talking… Was he talking to the police?’ I feel the blood rush to my head.

  ‘No, the police weren’t there – I meant he was talking, as in, he wasn’t dead. He wouldn’t even get in the ambulance, he walked off.’

  ‘Oh good, good. So he wasn’t too badly injured then?’

  She shakes her head. ‘No, there was a lot of blood but when he left he looked fine to me.’

  I’m so relieved I feel my eyes well up and have to make like I’m looking in my handbag for something so she doesn’t see. It could have easily been so different. Alex hadn’t even stopped to think, he’d just reacted and lashed out.

  ‘So what happened?’ Jas presses.

  ‘I don’t know anything. I told you it must have happened after I’d gone.’

  ‘I wasn’t talking about the fight, you daft cow, I meant what happened with you and Alex? The phone call telling someone when the coast was clear? Did you confront him about it?’

  ‘Oh that.’ Again, relief sweeps through me. ‘Yeah, so he was arranging to have decorators in and equipment delivered. He’s turned one of the bedrooms into an office.’

  ‘WTF?’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Is he planning to set you up as some kind of homeworker and lock you in the house?’ she jokes.

  I just roll my eyes, I’m really not in the mood.

  ‘And so…’ She looks at me for a reaction to what she’s about to say. ‘Why did he call me at five-thirty this morning to ask if you could have tomorrow off?’

  My stomach lurches. ‘He wants us to go away… to Devon for the weekend. But last night he said you’d approved it already. That he’d spoken to you and you said it was okay for me to have the day off.’

  She’s slowly shaking her head. ‘Nope, he woke me at dawn and asked – and it’s fine. I just wondered why you didn’t ask me.’

  I feel awkward, I should have been the one to ask for time off in my job, not my bloody boyfriend. I know how this looks to Jas, and I need to explain before she accuses him of taking over my life and my work and treating me like a 1950s wife. This isn’t quite how it looks, and in the great scheme of things it isn’t a big deal, but he told me he’d already phoned her when he hadn’t, and I am left wondering yet again why he seems to hide so much from me.

  ‘Devon was meant as a surprise,’ I say. ‘But when he “surprised” me last night I told him I couldn’t go, because I had to be at work, and couldn’t just take it off. But then he said he’d already asked you.’ I raise my eyebrows, indicating that it’s as difficult for me to understand as it is her.

  ‘Wow, he really is a lot,’ she says.

  ‘Mmm.’ Then I realise something. ‘I didn’t even know he had your number,’ I say. I’d never given it to him. Why would I?

  ‘My number? Oh yeah when he picked you up from Sameera’s hen you were out of it and he came back in the bar to tell me he was taking you home. I gave it to him then, asked him to call me to let me know you were okay.’ I nod. Then she turns serious. ‘I think you should know, when he called this morning, he hinted that you guys are talking marriage.’

  My stomach lurches again. ‘Did he?’

  ‘Yeah, he didn’t actually say anything, but there were some heavy hints. You’re sure about this, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m not sure of anything, Jas,’ I admit. ‘But I’m going to go away and see how things are between us. Thing is, I feel like I don’t know him… He seems to keep so much to himself, then suddenly springs it on me.’

  ‘Like what?’ She gets up and closes her office door, her tone instantly changing. ‘Christ, he already sprung his previous marriage on you. What now?’

  ‘Oh nothing that affects us really – just that he told me last nigh
t his mum was the victim of domestic violence and he used to hide in a wardrobe when his dad was hitting her. He’s never mentioned his mum or dad at all before. He even has a sister, and I’m sure he said he was an only child!’

  ‘Ooh.’ She screws up her face in a painful way. ‘He does sound a bit messed up, love. And it’s a bit convenient the way he can produce stuff out of a hat like a magician when he needs it,’ she says, inspecting her nails.

  ‘I don’t think he makes stuff up – I think he just wants to impress me, he wants to please me, and so he tries to present himself in this perfect way.’

  ‘And he’s not perfect – who is? So it backfires?’ she says.

  ‘Exactly. And then I’m disillusioned and he feels like crap and we argue. I just wish he’d be more… honest.’

  ‘Yeah, but the real problem is he wants to be everything to you, and he doesn’t want anyone else around. Like… whenever you go out without him, he seems to turn up. He’s always sitting there at the end of the bar or the end of the night. And last week at Sameera’s hen party – and then there was the picnic he produced in the office.’

  I cringe slightly at the memory of this.

  ‘And don’t you think it’s weird that he doesn’t want you to go to the gym?’ Her face is screwed up, her lip curled, she really doesn’t like him.

  ‘Well, he never said he didn’t want me to go, he just thought it would be romantic to work out together,’ I say defensively.

  ‘Romantic? Claustrophobic, more like. I mean look at it, Hannah. He can’t let you go out without him, he’s put an office in an upstairs room, a gym in the garage, he doesn’t ever want you to leave the sodding house, love!’

  I think about the two desks side by side, the sound of the guy’s head hitting the ground, the blood and rainwater. I tell myself to stop this, I’m overthinking again. Alex hit him, yes, but he fell over, that’s what the bang on the head was. And as for Alex, he’s going to the police today, and he’ll bring it all above board and sort it out, no hiding. I just don’t want to explain all this to Jas, I feel like I’m always explaining Alex to her, so I continue to keep what happened last night to myself.

  ‘After he’d shown me the home office last night,’ I say, ‘he told me he’d ordered a yellow Labrador. Jas, he just wants to make me happy.’

  She purses her lips disapprovingly, then leans forward. ‘Look, Hannah, I don’t pretend to know what’s going on in your relationship, but buying gym stuff, office stuff, pedigree dogs and a weekend in Devon? When you say all that it sounds okay… good even, but can’t you see it for what it is? All he’s really doing is building you a gilded cage.’ She sits back. ‘And good luck getting out of that once he locks the door.’

  I feel very uneasy. Both Jas and I have a different interpretation of Alex’s behaviour, I see love and kindness where she sees possessive and controlling.

  ‘Just be careful, Hannah – I don’t trust him,’ she says.

  Which is exactly what he says about her.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  As we’re now going away, I abandon plans to spend Thursday evening at my flat and after stopping at mine to pack a suitcase, I go back to Alex’s after work. When I arrive, he’s in a very positive mood, and confirms what Jas told me about the guy he hit being okay and walking away.

  ‘I saw my mate Dave, the police sergeant. I told him a client of mine was worried he might be dragged into this by witnesses, but he didn’t do it. So he checked with the desk and no one’s reported anything so far.’

  ‘Thank God. So in theory that’s it?’ I ask, not sure about him lying to the police, but he’s a lawyer, Dave is his friend. Perhaps the lines are blurred? Besides, as long as no one was hurt, perhaps he’s learned a lesson and we can move on.

  ‘Yeah, I mean, obviously, if in future the guy decides to press charges, then that’s a different matter,’ Alex says. He’s sitting on a stool in the kitchen and shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the truth, because he only ever wants to give me totally good news. I actually like that he’s being honest, he’s saying ‘it’s okay at the moment but let’s not be too “blue skies” about it’. Perhaps there’s hope for us yet.

  ‘I’m hoping he woke up this morning with a hangover from hell,’ he continues, ‘and neither he nor his mate remember what happened, or who did it. And before you say anything, it doesn’t excuse what I did, and I shouldn’t walk away scot-free. But I donated five hundred pounds to a domestic violence charity this afternoon – call it guilt money, if you like, but some good has to come of this awful thing I did.’

  This is more like the Alex I know. Essentially he’s a good man, what happened was out of character and it’s clear he feels bad about it all. I believe this has been a wake-up call for him, and perhaps now he will realise that he can’t always be where I am. His less than flawless approach to the truth has always been about me, about presenting a perfect picture for me to love. And there’s a lot to love. He’s been in many ways the best, most loving, most attentive partner I’ve ever had, and who doesn’t have problems in their relationship? No one’s perfect. You have to decide if the good bits outweigh the bad, and in this case I think they might. I have to at least give this one more chance before I throw in the towel. I’m not a quitter and it would be such a shame if I ended everything, and lost him because of a few issues we might be able to work on.

  ‘Alex, I do love you—’ I start.

  But he interrupts me. ‘I don’t want to lose you, Hannah.’ He sounds upset.

  ‘If – and the emphasis is on “if” – we’re going to stay together, we have to address a few things, and there have to be some changes, Alex.’

  ‘Whatever, I’ll do whatever it takes… I can change,’ he says, gently putting both arms around me.

  ‘You have to be honest with me, and not hide stuff because you think it’ll make me see you in a different light. And you have to stop worrying about me, turning up places where I am. And we need to speak to Helen. You and I have to face her, talk to her and ask her to stop.’

  He looks doubtful. ‘We can try…’

  ‘We have to, Alex. It’s the only way I can even think about continuing with this, because at the moment I’m really not sure about the future.’

  He nods eagerly. ‘Whatever you want. If it means you’ll stay. Let’s talk about it over the weekend while we’re away.’

  ‘Okay, let’s do that,’ I say, going along with it, hoping the weekend will provide the answers, and I’ll know where to go from there.

  We set off first thing on Friday morning. The journey from the Midlands will be at least three hours, and as snow and sleet is forecast, it could take longer, but Alex is confident we can get there by noon.

  ‘We’ll find somewhere lovely for lunch,’ he’s saying as we hit the motorway.

  He loves nice food, nice things – and he only wants nice things for me too. So why is this not making me happy? I’m trying to think of the positives, to get that feeling back, to love him like I did yesterday, but I keep hearing the thud as that guy hit the pavement. Alex’s fear, his cowardice. The blood ribboning through rainwater. Can I ever get over that?

  I think about what Jas said, the gym garage, the home office, the way he wants to drive me everywhere, how he turns up on my nights out with friends. The subtle, almost intangible ways he makes me feel slightly uncomfortable to be with anyone else but him. Do I want this for the rest of my life? Some women might like the attention. Helen ran away once, perhaps she felt like I do now? But she soon realised she’d made a mistake and came running back. I’m sure she’d love to be in my position now, as the object of his affections gazing out at the garden from behind her state-of-the-art Apple Mac, no pressure to work, just to hang around all day being worshipped. Alex would love his partner to be safely at her desk in the spare room never venturing out without him, or talking to other human beings. But that’s not for me, and I won’t change for him. He’s either got to accept me as I am, be happy
with my independence, and learn to trust me, or we won’t be able to move forward.

  I gaze out the window, the scenery is peppered white with snow, but becoming more rugged. I need to stop looking for negatives, and turning kind gestures into something other. I take a deep breath, and as the white sky meets the white ground, I tell myself to embrace this romantic, Christmassy weekend – and give Alex another chance.

  But then my phone pings, and he shoots a look at me. ‘Who is it?’

  I look down at the screen. ‘Jas.’

  ‘Shit! Can she not leave you alone? Honestly, Hannah, it’s like she’s with us everywhere we go.’

  ‘She’s only asking me if we’re there yet,’ I say.

  My phone pings again, and Alex sighs and grips the steering wheel a little tighter, which irritates me. I don’t want to start a row while he’s driving, but accepting Jas as part of my life is something else I need to address with him.

  Babe, text me the address of where you’re staying. Harry and Gem are visiting friends in Somerset this weekend, so if things go pear-shaped, you can always get a lift back with them.

  I text her the address. I’m not expecting things to be bad enough that I’ll need a lift back, but always better to be safe than sorry.

  ‘She’s so bloody jealous,’ Alex is saying. ‘She’d love to be you, heading out on a weekend away.’ He overtakes a car in front a little too fast.

  ‘Watch it, Alex,’ I say, as the car swerves slightly. Everywhere is turning white before our eyes, and the road is becoming slippery. ‘And don’t flatter yourself, Jas doesn’t want to be heading out for a weekend away with you,’ I say nastily, my anger getting the better of me.

  ‘She would,’ he insists.

  It’s the way he says it that gets my attention. ‘What are you talking about?’

  He sighs. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but Jas – she told me she likes me.’

  ‘Likes you? In what way?’