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

by Samantha Hayes

Libby looked at Sean, thinking she should add something. ‘I got my coat, came down and said hi to her. As Sean said, she seemed…’ Libby hesitated, ‘absolutely fine. She’d got out some of her books to study. Maths, by the looks of it. They’re still in the living room.’

  The PC made notes, occasionally glancing up.

  ‘Sash told me I looked nice and I mentioned that Sean and I were having a “date night”. I think she thought that was a bit, I dunno, silly perhaps. At our age. We must seem ancient to her.’ Libby added a little laugh, but it seemed out of place so she cleared her throat instead. ‘We left shortly after that as the taxi arrived.’

  ‘And before this, when was the last time you saw her?’ the detective asked. His hands were clasped in front of him, resting on the table, one finger tapping on the opposite knuckle.

  ‘About a week ago,’ Libby replied. ‘She sometimes helps me out with my business. I cook – private dining for local corporate clients, dinner parties and stuff like that. Sasha had helped me serve for a bankers’ dinner. She seemed fine then too. Nothing unusual.’

  ‘And the last time I’d have seen her was…’ Sean thought for a moment. ‘Well, either when she last babysat for us, maybe a month ago, or possibly if she was in the barn kitchen helping Libby. She’s often popping in and out so I couldn’t say exactly.’ He glanced at Libby.

  ‘We converted the little barn out the back into a catering kitchen,’ Libby added when the detective seemed puzzled. ‘It’s easier from a hygiene point of view than using the cottage kitchen. Certificates and such like,’ Libby said, wanting the officers to know she did everything right.

  He nodded, seemingly appreciating the detail they were giving. ‘So you went out for your meal at…?’

  ‘The Old Fox in Chalwell,’ Sean said.

  ‘And tell me about when you came back – what happened when you realised Sasha wasn’t here?’

  Libby expected Sean to answer but, when he didn’t say anything, she stepped in. ‘We took a taxi home from the pub and, when we came in, Sasha just wasn’t here. Of course, we didn’t realise to begin with, as that’s not what you’re expecting – your babysitter gone. At first I thought she was either upstairs with Alice or maybe in the toilet.’ Libby gestured towards the back hallway off the kitchen. ‘But she wasn’t anywhere. We looked all around, even in the barn kitchen and the garden,’ Libby added. ‘It’s just so weird.’ She felt her voice tightening around the words as she replayed the scene in her mind.

  ‘Has she ever done anything like this before when she’s babysat for you? Or ever let you down when she’s worked in your catering business, Libby?’

  ‘No, not at all,’ was her quick reply. ‘Which is why this is so odd.’

  ‘Sash is a good girl, Detective,’ Jan chipped in. ‘She’s reliable, works hard at college, always keeps me posted where she is – well, usually,’ she added.

  ‘Usually?’

  ‘There have been a couple of times when she’s forgotten to let me know she’s OK or has had a change of plan. But that’s because her phone was out of battery or she’d got caught up in the excitement of things. Once was with Matt, her boyfriend. And I’ve already checked with him tonight. He’s not heard from her.’

  ‘So she’s left all her college books and phone behind,’ the detective said. ‘Which would indicate that she either intended to come back or…’

  They all waited for him to finish, but he didn’t and, instead, Jan, Libby and Sean each played out in their own minds what the detective was implying.

  Or she’s been taken against her will…

  ‘After it became clear that she wasn’t here,’ Libby said, ‘we knew we had to make some calls.’ She prayed the detective wouldn’t ask how much alcohol they’d had, think they’d somehow been irresponsible.

  ‘And what time was this?’ DI Jones asked.

  Libby stared at the ceiling. ‘Some time after eleven, I suppose?’ she said, glancing at Sean for confirmation.

  ‘That’s about right,’ he added. ‘We hoped that Sasha would turn up of her own accord so didn’t panic immediately, though we were nonplussed that she’d just taken off and left Alice.’

  Jan bowed her head briefly, covering her face. Libby reached out and touched her arm.

  ‘We were hoping she’d turn up but when she didn’t, that’s when I messaged Matt, her boyfriend. After that, we knew we had to call Jan. We were hoping Sasha had made her own way home and perhaps just forgotten her backpack.’

  ‘Can I take a look at her belongings, please?’ the detective said, nodding and standing. ‘Then we’ll decide what resources we need to put in place, how we’re going to move forward.’ He offered a comforting smile, though no one felt particularly reassured.

  In the living room, they showed the detective Sasha’s things. Despite their own caution at touching anything, the detective didn’t seem too concerned about picking up one or two items.

  ‘What’s she studying?’ he asked Jan, who stood behind him, arms clamped across her chest.

  ‘A levels,’ she said quietly. ‘Maths, physics and chemistry. She wants to go to university, to do engineering.’

  The detective nodded, clearing his throat as he flipped to the cover of a textbook. ‘Advanced mathematics,’ he read out loud. ‘Clever girl, is she?’

  ‘Very,’ Jan replied. ‘She takes after her dad.’

  ‘And where’s Dad right now?’ DI Jones asked, picking up Sasha’s A4 pad. He scanned down her jottings and crossings out, turning through the pages.

  ‘We recently separated,’ Jan said. ‘He’s staying in one of the empty estate cottages for the time being. I’m guessing he was out at the pub tonight. He usually is,’ she added quietly. Then she burst into tears, dropping down into the armchair.

  ‘Oh, Jan, try not to get too upset,’ Libby said, stroking her shoulder.

  ‘What I don’t understand is why she would leave all her stuff behind,’ Sean said. ‘Especially her phone.’

  ‘Exactly,’ DI Jones said. ‘Is she or are any of her friends in any kind of trouble, do you know, Mrs Long? Does she have anything going on that would require her to just drop everything and leave, whether it was alone or with someone? Have a good think, however insignificant it may seem.’

  ‘No, none at all that I know of,’ she replied. ‘I… I just don’t understand.’

  ‘When you came back, was there any sign of forced entry at all, front or back?’ he asked Sean and Libby.

  ‘No,’ Libby replied quickly. ‘I didn’t notice anything like a break-in when we got home.’

  ‘Right,’ the detective said. ‘It’s time for me to make a few calls, see if we can’t find this young lady before morning.’

  Sixteen

  ‘I can’t just do nothing,’ Sean said, sitting on the bed, watching as Libby threw a few random things into a holdall. The expression on her face – teary eyes, lips parted, cheeks drained of blood – told him she wasn’t thinking straight, couldn’t care less what they took with them. She went into the adjoining bathroom and returned, chucking their toothbrushes and a tube of paste into the bag, not bothering with any of her cosmetics. A couple of pairs of socks, some underwear, a sweater each and a hairbrush, and Libby zipped up the holdall.

  ‘I need to sort some stuff for Alice,’ she said, not looking at Sean. He grabbed her wrist as she passed by the bed.

  ‘I’ll take you both up to Mum’s then I’m going out to search.’

  ‘What’s the point?’ she replied, her eyes brimming with tears again as he held on to her. Jan was still downstairs with PC Watts. ‘The police are on it now. There’s nothing you can do.’

  ‘It can’t hurt, surely?’ he said, releasing her.

  ‘Anyway, I don’t think we should wake your mum at this hour,’ Libby said, glancing at her watch. She hadn’t failed to notice how tired Marion had seemed lately. All she knew was that DI Jones had told them to get a few things together, that they’d need to vacate the cottage as he’d likely n
eed to call in a forensics team. And he had no idea how long that would take. Meantime, he didn’t want anyone in the living room and, ideally, any of the other rooms either.

  ‘She won’t mind,’ Sean said. ‘You know how she likes to help.’

  Libby nodded. That much was true. ‘Surely we can just stay upstairs here until they’re ready to… do stuff,’ Libby added, not knowing what it was they were going to do. In her mind, she had an image of white-suited police officers going over every inch of their house, pulling it apart, finding out more about their lives than just the couple of hours Sasha had spent here.

  ‘We’d better just do as we’re told, love,’ Sean said, standing up and wrapping his arms around her. It was Libby’s favourite place in the whole world, being held by her husband. She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to wake her daughter, press her between them and never let her go. ‘Even if that means sitting in the car for a few hours until morning. It’s awful, horrific, but it is what it is.’

  It is what it is…

  It’s what Sean said to her the first time she encountered Natalie, his ex-wife. She and Sean had been seeing each other for six months when Sean had felt it was time to introduce her to Dan, his son. It soon became clear to Libby that the lad had coped with his parents’ break-up just fine – even preferring them apart, as he once confided in Libby. At least I don’t have to listen to them rowing all the time, he’d said, though Libby had never asked what about. Natalie, however, hadn’t taken things so well, and even now, years later, she was unable to accept that Sean had remarried. Not only had she turned their divorce into a three-year legal battle, with solicitors’ costs wiping out a chunk of the money at stake anyway, but she’d used Dan as a pawn – a pawn in proceedings, but also when a contact order was put in place for Sean to see him. He loved his son dearly and it broke his heart to see him being used in this way. Whatever Natalie wanted, she usually got – whether it was more maintenance, a new car, or help with her mortgage. If he refused, Sean didn’t get to see Dan, and back to court they had to go.

  It was for this reason that Sean was always friendly towards Natalie, giving her whatever she wanted, being courteous and kind – almost to the point that Libby wondered if he still had feelings for her.

  ‘It is what it is with Natalie,’ he’d told her the first time he’d spoken in depth about his ex-wife to Libby. They’d known each other a couple of months by that point and, previously, neither had really felt it necessary to discuss their past loves. They’d been too busy concentrating on each other and the excitement of a new relationship. Of course, Libby had known Sean was separated, still technically married at the time, though he’d been living with his parents since the split, saving a deposit for a new place of his own as well as waiting for the marital finances to be sorted. Meantime, he’d thrown himself into his work and his son’s well-being.

  ‘Nat’s been having trouble accepting…’ He’d paused then, pulling on his hair, which, Libby later came to know, was a sign of stress. That, as well as his limp becoming more pronounced. ‘… accepting that things between us are over. I just don’t think she ever expected me to find someone else. Especially a woman like you.’

  ‘She knows about me?’

  Sean had looked away then, his face colouring under the soft lights of the pub. Or it could have been the glow from the fire, Libby thought. But either way, she could tell he was unsure how to answer. In the end, he just came out with it.

  ‘She found out for herself,’ he said, taking Libby’s hand, softening the blow.

  ‘Oh. Wait, what?’

  ‘What you have to understand with Natalie is…’ He’d trailed off then, thinking. ‘Is that she can’t stand not to know everything. It’s probably a control thing, I dunno. I’m not her shrink.’ He’d laughed then, trying to allay the concern on Libby’s face.

  ‘Found out for herself?’ Libby repeated, trying to sound light and breezy about it. But she wanted to know. ‘Has she been watching us? Watching me?’

  ‘That’s Nat for you,’ Sean said with another laugh, though less convincing. ‘Like I said, it is what it is.’

  Libby was snapped out of the memory by the bedroom door slowly opening. At first, she thought it would be DI Jones – she knew he was still in the cottage, and the PC too. But then Alice shuffled in, rubbing her eyes as she stood there in her pink nightdress.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ Libby said, easing out of Sean’s arms. She bent down to her daughter, scooping her up and settling her on her hip.

  ‘Can’t sleep,’ Alice said, looking around, blinking. ‘There’s too much noise in my head.’

  Libby looked at Sean.

  ‘Oh, Little Bean,’ he said, scooping her away from Libby. ‘Come here and have a Daddy cuddle. Don’t you worry about the noise, sweetness. It was probably just a bad dream.’

  Alice buried her face in her father’s neck and shoulder, easing her thumb into her mouth while she twiddled her hair, curling her legs around his waist. But then she pulled back, holding on to his shoulders. ‘No it wasn’t a dream, Daddy. There was big bangs downstairs and it woke me up. Was there a burger?’

  ‘Burglar, you mean?’ Sean said, gently touching her under the chin. ‘And no, there wasn’t. Don’t you worry. Perhaps it was just someone outside in the lane, parking a car or something.’

  Alice frowned, her pale eyebrows pulling together as she bit on the fullness of her bottom lip. ‘Wasn’t a car. It was in the house and… and… and I didn’t like it so I got Mr Flumps to save me. We made a tent under the duvet so we couldn’t hear it.’

  Libby caught Sean’s eye again.

  ‘When did you hear the noises, sweetie?’ Libby asked, stroking Alice’s foot.

  ‘That tickles,’ she said, snatching her leg away. ‘This last night,’ she added, looking confused. ‘They were big giant noises.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Sean said. ‘Mummy and Daddy are home now and there’s nothing to be scared of. In fact,’ he said, taking a deep breath, ‘how would you like to go and see Nanny for breakfast? She can make you pancakes or perhaps you can go with her to collect fresh eggs from the henhouse.’

  Alice buried her face in Sean’s shoulder again, nodding. ‘Yes, please,’ she said, sounding muffled.

  What do we do? Libby mouthed at Sean. He shrugged in reply.

  ‘How about I tuck you back into bed for a little while and, when we’re ready, we’ll wake you to go to Nanny’s? You can stay in your nightie, if you like.’

  Another nod from Alice, who was already half asleep again. But as soon as he went to carry her back to her own room, she stiffened and squealed.

  ‘Your bed, Daddy,’ she whined.

  ‘OK, OK,’ Sean said, pulling back their duvet and laying her down. ‘You can sleep in here.’ He tucked her in and flicked off the lamp, beckoning Libby out onto the landing.

  ‘Now what?’ Libby whispered, folding her arms. ‘Should we tell the detective?’

  ‘No need,’ Sean said, rubbing his face. ‘It’s hardly important. Alice had a bad dream, that’s all.’

  Libby nodded. ‘I suppose. But think about it. What if someone was in the house and hurt Sasha? God, and with Alice upstairs.’ She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the image. ‘I just can’t stand to think of it,’ she whispered, eyeing her husband, wondering if he agreed.

  ‘The detective didn’t mention signs of a struggle when he looked round,’ Sean said, glancing down the stairs. He lowered his voice. ‘I’m not sure putting Alice through a grilling is in her best interests.’

  ‘If you’re sure,’ Libby said, glancing at their bedroom door.

  ‘I am,’ Sean said, just as the PC came up the stairs, her hand on the banister rail as she turned the corner. They both stared at her, aware that their bedroom door was opening behind them. They heard Alice’s sniffles as she came close.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Rand—’

  ‘Mummy, Mummy, I can’t get to sleep,’ Alice wailed, her sobs increasing as she r
an up and hugged Libby’s leg. She was almost squealing as she stared up at the officer. ‘I’m… I’m scared that bad lady is going to come back…’ And, before Libby could pick her up again, Alice had dropped to the floor and covered her head with her arms, her shoulders shaking in time with her sobs.

  Seventeen

  Now

  The solicitor is smart, slim and younger than me. I’ve stared at her for the last fifteen minutes without saying a word, just concentrating on her bright eyes, her long lashes and dark, flawless skin. She doesn’t look as though she’s on my side, even though she said, several times, that she’s here to help and advise me. But she doesn’t seem to understand that I shouldn’t be here, that there’s been a terrible mistake. She has no clue about my life, my home, Alice, Sean, the village, my business, Marion, the farm and everything else that makes up me. It’s simple really. Yet how do I tell her? How do I explain and untangle everything so she, and the police, will see that I’m innocent?

  I open my mouth to say something, but think better of it and close it again.

  ‘If you won’t speak, Libby, it’s hard for me to advise you,’ she says. Her lips are full and glossed, while her hair is sleek and pulled back in a thick black ponytail. Bright eyes stare at me, the intelligence behind them scaring me, making me think I’ll say the wrong thing before I’ve even said it.

  She’s on my side…

  ‘Libby?’ Her voice is crisp and precise, like the rest of her. My eyes flick down to her hands, pen in the right one poised above a notepad. The same kind of A4 ruled book that Sasha had been using that night.

  Everything always comes back to Sasha.

  ‘OK.’ She lets out a small sigh. ‘Do you understand that you’re going to be questioned about the murder of Sasha Long?’

  I give a little nod, the first sign I’ve given since I was shown into the interview room. It’s a grey place, reflective of the landscape in my mind. Desolate and empty.