Don’t Say a Word: A gripping psychological thriller from the author of The Good Mother

I accept the call, and let the caller do the talking.

‘Hey,’ says a voice.

Dan!

‘Hey,’ I say back.

‘So Tim is busy preparing his opening line to use on Rhea,’ Dan jokes.

‘Oh God, don’t,’ I respond, groaning. ‘If that’s him trying to build trust, imagine him trying to ask someone out.’

‘“You like to drink, don’t you – let’s mutually assess whether you’re an alcoholic at The King’s Head at 7.”’

‘“I hear you think you can dance. You can’t. I’ll train you if you come to Flame at 8 on Sunday.”’

‘Oh, come on, Jen, even Tim would know better than to ask a girl to a gay nightclub!’

‘He probably just thinks it’s the pretty rainbow-coloured bar outside the Magistrate’s Court.’

‘You don’t get to be a criminal litigator by being totally naïve,’ Dan tells me.

‘Ah, so you’ve been in Flame, then,’

‘I reserve my rights to have been there. Great night out, I hear.’

‘Hmm. So come on, you’ve dissed Tim’s opening lines, let’s have your best cringeworthy one.’

‘Are you asking me to ask you out, Jen Sutton?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Then how about a drink on Friday evening?’

‘That’s not cringeworthy, Dan. What a let-down.’

‘I’ll wear a rose between my teeth. Better?’

‘It’ll do.’ I laugh.

Then the real world hits. ‘Listen, I don’t know, Dan, I’ve got the little one; it’s difficult.’

There’s a slight pause. Shit, I think. Blown it again.

When Dan speaks he is sheepish. ‘Actually, Tim, um, told me he was giving you the contact details for a child minder. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.’

Ah, so Tim is now running a dating agency.

‘Yes, but I can’t arrange a child minder by Friday. I don’t even know how I’d go about it.’

‘You interview them, I guess.’

‘I guess,’ I say. This is when a girl needs her mum. Or school-gate mum friends. Or friends.

Shit, I’ve been lazy over the last decade. Lazy or scared. Couldn’t find it within myself to return nods or hellos that could have led to friendship. You put down roots, right, when you move? Chloe would’ve. She’d be the most popular girl in the town. I can see her now, up in Donnie, being the life and soul. Or maybe that’s just a favourable image. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe she was sat in a corner, her eyes narrow, drink in hand, watching it all unfold, waiting to strike. Waiting to fuck everyone up.

Dan again: ‘Look, if it’s too much bother –’

‘It’s not too much bother, I just don’t know if I can get a child minder set up before Friday. I’ve never left Josh with anyone before. I have to be sure.’

‘I know. I was going to say: if it’s too much bother sorting out childcare, I’ll just come over to yours with some wine and Ribena. Or just Ribena.’

‘Oh, you know how to treat a girl! All that money you’re earning on Rhea Stevens?’

A pause. Have I offended him?

‘Actually, I’m doing the Rhea case pretty much pro bono.’

‘What? You’re doing it for free? How come?’

‘Goodness of my heart?’

‘But I don’t understand. Why aren’t you using Legal Aid – surely the firm is?’

‘Tim talked me into it,’ Dan tells me. ‘Joking aside, he can be pretty persuasive.’

‘Jesus. But it must take up your time. How can you afford it?’

‘By offering women Ribena,’ Dan counters. ‘Come on, how about it – if you have childcare we’ll go out, otherwise I’ll come to you.’

‘It’s a date.’

‘Finally.’

We both take a beat. Yes, finally.

‘OK, well I’ll see you then,’ I say. ‘Text me your mobile number; this one’s blocked.’

‘Will do,’ he says. ‘Just let me know what works for you.’

‘Great,’ I tell him.

We end the call.

Wow. So. A date. Have I ever even been on a bona fide date?

Mick didn’t count.

Mick picked me up from the trash.