Date Night: An Absolutely Gripping Psychological Thriller With a Jaw-Dropping Twist

by Samantha Hayes

  ‘Oh, well…’ Libby said, swallowing, hesitating. Though she was thankful she’d spotted someone to ask. Sean had said it was important she should stop if she saw anyone, find out if they’d seen her. It was a tight community and the locals would be concerned. ‘She was babysitting for us but when we got home she…’ Libby trailed off again. It made it all too real, too serious, if she said the actual words. But she knew she had to say something. ‘I was wondering if she’d popped out. If anyone had seen her.’

  Eric straightened his back, pulling a face. ‘Not seen no one out tonight, love,’ he said, rubbing his weathered hand over several days’ worth of stubble. ‘But that’s a bit strange, I’ll grant. If I see her, I’ll tell her to get in touch. I might stop for a late one at The Falconer’s on the way home, so I’ll ask in there too.’ He waved his hand in the direction of the pub.

  Libby glanced at the car clock. It was almost closing time but she knew they did lock-ins for locals like Eric. A tap on the window was all it would take for him and Maisy to find a spot by the fire.

  ‘Night then, Eric,’ Libby said. ‘And look after that back.’ She gave him a quick wave and wound the window up again, putting the car into gear and driving on down the lane, scanning each side of the road as she went. But there was no one else around.

  As she turned onto Drover’s Way, she tapped the brake suddenly, her eyes straining in the dark. She swore she saw something – movement, perhaps pale skin or light-coloured hair behind a parked car. Libby waited a moment, but there was nothing. It was probably her imagination. She gripped the wheel tightly, concentrating as she drove, even though she was only going about fifteen miles per hour. Her knuckles turned white and her hands trembled as she stared at the road ahead, while keeping on the lookout.

  ‘God, God, God,’ she muttered under her breath, glancing at the controls to turn up the fan. The windscreen was misting up again. At the same moment, her phone rang so she quickly looked down to see who it was. Sean’s name and picture were on her screen.

  ‘Oh…!’ she cried out as her head suddenly lurched forward. For a second, she didn’t know what had happened. She was stunned and, quite literally, knocked sideways as the car jolted and stalled. When she peered out of the window, she realised that she’d scraped the rear end of a parked car that she simply hadn’t seen. Everything was misting up and, after the wine, her judgement wasn’t its best.

  Her phone stopped ringing but immediately began again as she was restarting the engine. She answered it on speaker and pulled forward, stopping just in front of the car she’d hit. She ought to get out, see if there was much damage, but her breathing was getting faster, her chest tight and painful – almost to the point of not being able to take another breath. She prayed there wasn’t any damage. Sean would be so cross with her. This wasn’t what he’d sent her to do.

  ‘Libby?’ came Sean’s voice. ‘You there? What’s going on – Libby?’

  For a moment she couldn’t speak. Her vision blurred and she was suddenly freezing cold. ‘Sean…?’ she whispered. ‘Are you home? Is there news?’ Her words were breathy and thin.

  ‘Libby?’ Sean said again, as the line broke up. ‘Can you hear me?’

  ‘Yes, I can now,’ she replied, touching the side of her head. ‘I think I’ve just hit a car. I don’t know if there’s any damage.’ All Libby knew was that she shouldn’t be behind a wheel with this much alcohol in her. If the police found her now, they’d smell it on her breath and certainly test her. She knew she was way over the limit. She couldn’t stand the shame. This wasn’t her! This wasn’t her life!

  There was a tap on the window.

  ‘Sean, I’ll call you back,’ she said, hanging up. A woman was standing beside her car, mouthing something through the glass. She couldn’t tell if she was angry.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Libby mouthed back as she fumbled for the window button. ‘God,’ she said. ‘I misjudged. I’m so sorry… I… didn’t mean to…’

  ‘Are you OK?’ the woman replied, a concerned look on her face.

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine.’ Libby touched her head again. It took a moment before she realised it was Cath, the woman from the post office. She’d only moved to the village eighteen months ago with her husband and had saved the little shop from closing down.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s not my car you hit. I was just walking home and thought I heard a noise.’ Cath went around to the front of Libby’s car, making a surprised face in the headlights. She folded her arms as she looked at the other car. Libby thought it best she got out, though she staggered a little as she stood up. She held on to the roof. ‘I feel terrible. I’ve never done anything like this before.’ It was true, she hadn’t.

  The woman paused, pulling her coat around her. ‘You look quite pale… Liz, isn’t it? Are you OK?’

  ‘It’s Libby, and I’m fine. Just stupid misjudgement. I’ll leave my number and come back tomorrow to find the owner. I’m only down the way in Chestnut Cottage.’ Libby fought to control her breathing, especially when her phone began to ring again.

  Cath stood still for a moment, staring at her, then back at the cars. Libby prayed she couldn’t smell wine on her breath. ‘Fair enough,’ she said finally. ‘And not too much harm done anyway,’ she added, running her hand along the other car’s bumper. ‘It’s only a small scratch. Good night, Libby,’ she said, before walking off, glancing back a couple of times.

  Libby lunged back inside, grabbing her phone as it rang again. But she was too late. The call had ended. She sat there for a moment, her head leaning back against the seat rest, wondering how her evening with Sean had transformed from romantic dinner into a nightmare. Her head thrummed as she stared ahead at the lit-up tower of the church at the end of the lane – the church where she and Sean had been married five years ago. She remembered walking through the village in her vintage lace dress, a broad smile set on her face for the entire day as all their friends and family watched on. She’d not wanted to be driven to church as it was such a short distance and the middle of summer, but mostly it was because she wanted everyone to see her and her bridesmaids – wanted everyone to know that she was the woman marrying Sean.

  It was the most perfect day of her life. She’d met the man of her dreams and, shortly after they were married, she’d fallen pregnant with Alice. The only downside to the day was seeing Natalie, Sean’s first wife, lurking outside the church after the ceremony – her face blotchy and tear streaked, watching on as the newlyweds were showered with confetti, the bells ringing.

  Neither of them had said anything to her, and she’d soon scurried off through the gravestones, disappearing around the back of the church – but Libby knew she’d snapped a few pictures before she’d left. When they discussed it later, Sean put her mind at rest, telling her that she’d taken their divorce eighteen months before badly, and that she still wasn’t over it. Thankfully, Dan, who was only ten at the time, hadn’t spotted his mum as he’d followed them out of the church.

  Libby jumped as her phone rang again. ‘Hi,’ she said, sniffing into the handset. ‘Yeah, I’m OK. What about Sasha?’ she said, wanting to know if there was news. ‘Where are you? What’s happened?’ But Sean just told her to come home, that she’d been gone ages and they needed to do something different now. Reluctantly, Libby agreed and headed back, driving extra carefully as she looped the remainder of the village, all the while scanning around for Sasha. But there was no sign of the girl at all.

  Thirteen

  Libby took off her coat and perched on the edge of the armchair. She stared up at Sean, who was pacing about holding another tumbler of whisky. ‘Do you really need to drink quite so much?’ Libby asked, shaking her head.

  ‘Well, you know, it’s been such a fun night so far, I couldn’t resist.’ Sean raised his glass at her, his expression blank. ‘Sorry,’ he added, shaking his head.

  Libby stared at him. He looked exhausted, stressed and out of breath. He still had his coat on and, even though it was
a chilly night, he had a skim of sweat on his face. She reached up and wiped a dirty mark off his cheek, making him shy away. As she sat staring at Sasha’s stuff strewn about, seeing the empty space where she’d been sitting earlier, she couldn’t stop shaking.

  ‘It’s time to make some calls, isn’t it?’ she said, glancing at her watch. They both knew that made it all the more real: telling people. ‘I can’t bear the thought of worrying Jan just yet,’ she added. ‘The poor woman has had enough on her plate lately. But how can we not phone her mother?’

  ‘We have to,’ Sean said, making a concerned face. Neither of them knew Jan Long particularly well, and Sean knew her even less than Libby, though he knew Phil Long through the pheasant shoots on the estate, as well as from the local pub. Libby had heard snippets of gossip going around that the couple were having troubles, that there was possibly another man involved and that’s why Phil had moved out. But she’d kept out of it, avoided the rumour mill. She was more interested in Sasha’s welfare, how she was coping if it were true.

  ‘How about we contact her boyfriend first? If you reckon there’s been a bit of drama there, it’s not unreasonable to think she’s gone to see him, to sort things out?’ Sean suggested.

  ‘Good idea,’ Libby said. ‘He lives between here and Little Radwell – you know, the row of cottages by the bridge?’

  ‘Do you have his number?’

  ‘Possibly,’ Libby said, thumbing through her calls list. ‘Sash rang me from his phone once. That was a couple of months ago though.’ Libby bit on her lip as she searched. ‘Damn. Incoming calls don’t stay logged that far back. I’ll look on Facebook.’

  Within a minute, Libby had found Matt’s profile via Sasha’s and sent him a message. They weren’t friends, but she knew it would get through.

  ‘Kids these days are always online, aren’t they? Hopefully he’ll see it soon enough,’ Sean said, dragging his hands down his face.

  ‘We can’t just sit around and do nothing though, can we?’ Libby went to the front window, peering out, up and down the lane. There was no sign of anyone. She glanced at her watch. ‘Who should we contact next?’

  ‘Maybe send the same Facebook message to a few of her close girlfriends? Do you know their names?’

  ‘A couple,’ Libby said, engrossed in her phone again. ‘But I’m not sure what good it’s going to do. We need to actually speak to someone, surely? And then we’ll need to call the…’ Libby trailed off. Neither of them wanted to go that route, but it was looking all the more likely that the police would have to become involved.

  ‘Look,’ Sean said. ‘I can only imagine the worry we’ll cause, but I do think it’s time to call her mother. She’ll be expecting her home soon anyway.’

  Libby stared at him, her heart thumping, trying to imagine the future and Alice babysitting for a local family. How would she react if she received such a call? What would she do? All she knew was that her heart would be on fire and she’d immediately call the police. ‘She’ll come straight round here, you realise?’ Libby said. ‘I know I would.’

  ‘Unless she just assumes Sasha is still on her way home,’ Sean said, swirling his tumbler before finishing the last dregs. He raised his eyebrows and Libby nodded, knowing they were thinking the same.

  ‘She’d have taken her stuff with her though, right? And let us know that she’d left. Or, maybe she has texted me but it hasn’t delivered yet. You know how unreliable texts are around here.’

  ‘I’d thought of that while you were out. I tried to get into her phone but it’s code locked and fingerprint protected.’

  Libby stared at him, a cold shudder running the length of her spine. Sean stared back as she tried to read his eyes, but they were bloodshot – probably from too much whisky – and expressionless. Like her, he was worried and fearful. But they couldn’t sit around and do nothing. They’d be accused of impeding an enquiry if things got that far.

  ‘Call Jan,’ Sean said. ‘It’s time, Libby.’

  Libby nodded and dialled the Longs’ landline. She didn’t have Jan’s mobile. ‘It’s ringing,’ she whispered. She stiffened when it was answered, heard a woman’s breathy voice.

  ‘Sash?’ she said.

  ‘Hi, is that you, Mrs Long? It’s Libby Randell here, from Great Lyne. Sasha was babysitting for us tonight.’

  ‘Oh… hello. Sorry, I thought it might be Sash calling on someone else’s phone for a lift.’

  Libby sensed the tinge of disappointment in the woman’s voice. She also sounded exhausted.

  ‘She said she might call me for a ride home, you see. And I’m waiting to go to bed.’ She added a little laugh.

  ‘I see,’ Libby said, making a face at Sean. She didn’t feel real. ‘We’re back from our meal now and, well, we were actually wondering if Sasha had come home already?’

  ‘Home?’ the other woman said. ‘No, she hasn’t. That’s why I was expecting her call. She mentioned not wanting to waste anyone’s money on a taxi and she and Matt… well, he wasn’t going to give her a lift tonight, so I said I’d wait up.’ Jan sighed. ‘I hope she isn’t walking home. What did she tell you when she left?’

  ‘That’s the thing,’ Libby went on, feeling a sweat break out on her face. ‘She wasn’t here when we got back. We haven’t seen her since we left for the pub earlier, actually. And she’d left Alice alone.’

  ‘What?’ Jan said, her voice ending in a squeak. ‘What do you mean, she wasn’t there when you got back?’

  ‘Just that, really,’ Libby said, her voice wavering. ‘She’s not here.’ She glanced around the living room, as if to convince herself. ‘It’s so unlike Sasha. I wanted to check she’d made it home safely.’

  ‘No, no she hasn’t. Not yet.’

  Libby heard the other woman scrabbling around in the background, the jangling of keys.

  ‘I’m going to go out in the car and look for her between here and yours,’ Jan said, trying to hide her concern. ‘She’ll no doubt be lugging that heavy backpack of hers along the lane, wishing she’d called me. And, knowing her, her phone will be out of battery.’ She laughed but it came out too loud, hysterical almost.

  ‘Thing is,’ Libby went on, ‘she’s left all her stuff here—’ She stopped as the line went dead, staring at her phone before placing it back to her ear again. ‘Jan?’ she said, just to make sure. ‘She hung up,’ Libby said to Sean. ‘She’s going out to look for Sasha along the lane between there and here.’

  ‘I’ll get the kettle on, then,’ Sean said, looking around at Sasha’s stuff. ‘Should we pack it up so it’s not too distressing for Jan?’

  ‘Good point,’ Libby said, reaching out for a couple of Sasha’s books, sidestepping round everything. ‘But… but what if…?’ They stared at each other, both thinking the same – that the police, if they had to call them, wouldn’t want anything disturbed.

  ‘Maybe leave it, then,’ Sean said, heading out to the kitchen. Libby followed him. He filled the kettle and put it on the hotplate. ‘How bad was it?’ he said, leaning on the kitchen sink and peering out at Libby’s car, trying to see any damage after she’d told him what had happened.

  ‘Not too bad,’ she said finally. ‘I was in such a panic, I didn’t really look at the other car. Cath from the post office saw the scrape and is bound to tell someone. I don’t want to fall out with anyone in the village.’

  ‘I know,’ Sean replied. ‘But you didn’t mean to do it. It could have happened to anyone. I don’t think you need to tell anyone.’ He put his arms around her, pulling her close. Libby melded into him as he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, grateful the tension from before seemed to have been forgotten. ‘And please try not to worry about Sasha,’ he added. ‘It’s all going to be OK, you’ll see.’

  ‘I just can’t stand to think of her out there alone, freezing. It’s so cold tonight.’ Libby shuddered in Sean’s arms.

  ‘I know, I know,’ he said. ‘I don’t like it either. But focus on Alice being left
alone. That can’t be ignored.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Libby whispered into Sean’s shoulder. ‘About everything.’ She didn’t think she ever wanted to move again as she stood there, pressed against him, his scent calming her as she breathed him in. ‘I love you,’ she said, looking up at him. ‘And I’m truly sorry about earlier. About the note. I promise I’ll never mention it again.’

  Sean nodded before kissing her. And afterwards he put his finger gently over her lips.

  Fourteen

  Libby and Sean stared at each other as they heard the knock. It was Sean who got up to answer the door, with Libby straining to hear if it had woken Alice. But all she could hear was Jan Long’s voice at the door, getting louder as Sean brought her through the hallway and into the living room. Libby stood up, her legs feeling as though they were about to give way.

  ‘Jan, hello,’ she said, pulling a concerned face. She noticed the woman scanning Sasha’s things. ‘Did you find her?’ Libby already knew the answer to that – Jan wouldn’t be here if she had.

  ‘No, not yet,’ she replied, sounding a little calmer. ‘Bloody kids,’ she added, rolling her eyes.

  ‘Where did you look?’ Sean asked, indicating she should sit down.

  ‘Just the route between my place and here,’ Jan said. ‘I stopped at Matt’s house on the way but there was no one home. His parents have gone away for the weekend and I think Matt was out with his mates tonight. The place was in darkness.’

  Sean and Libby nodded, neither of them knowing what to say.

  ‘Is this like her?’ Sean asked, although Libby knew it wasn’t. ‘To just take off without telling anyone?’

  Sasha was the most responsible young person Libby knew, seemingly in all areas of her life. When Libby’s business began to take off, she’d put a couple of adverts in the local shops for help. Half a dozen college students had applied, wanting the extra cash, and Libby had interviewed them all. But Sasha stood out a mile and, after giving several of them a trial run, she was the only one obviously up to the job. She was polite, hard-working, showed initiative, plus she had a genuine interest in food, confiding to Libby after a couple of weeks that she’d always been watchful of what she ate.