Читать книгу: «The Promise: The twisty new thriller from the Sunday Times bestseller, guaranteed to keep you up all night»

Chapter 1

Tonight was the night. Erica looked in her full-length mirror and checked her dress for the umpteenth time. It was more than she would usually spend but it hugged her in all the right places and she wanted to make a good impression. She scrutinised the bedroom to make sure that it was tidy; she had spent the whole morning cleaning the house, just in case. She hoped this was the one.

Erica had met Warren online; they had been talking for some months now. A couple of weeks ago, he’d started speaking to her on the phone and they had taken their relationship to the next level. She knew he was real because she wasn’t stupid; she had been burned by catfish before, people pretending to be someone else, people who were trying to con you out of something. Not Warren though. Erica had pushed to speak on the phone, she had pushed to video call, she had been the one who had gotten intimate first. They had exchanged phone numbers and when she knew he was at work she would send him a cheeky picture of her bra, or maybe the lace band of her underpants that rested on her hip. Warren had told her before that he wanted to go slow, that he wasn’t ready for a relationship yet after a particularly painful break-up with an ex-girlfriend who had cheated on him. But she wanted him to know she was serious. It hadn’t taken long for Erica to see through Warren’s funny and sociable bravado; he was hurting, he was in pain and she would help him heal.

Their conversations were deep, deeper than she had had with anyone else. He always knew the right things to say. It was as though they had known each other forever. Erica had never thought that she was loveable before, but there was an undeniable connection between her and Warren. The biggest issue was that he lived a couple of hundred miles away, nearer to London than to Exeter but tonight that wasn’t going to be a problem.

She left the house clutching her phone in her hand, dreading a notification from Warren to say he was cancelling, that he wouldn’t be at the restaurant when she got there. This was the weekend they were going to meet face-to-face, on Halloween. She could hardly believe it was actually going to happen. Warren had booked a local hotel and was going to stay in Exeter for the weekend, somewhere near to her but not with her; he’d said he didn’t want to put her under that kind of pressure. He was thoughtful like that; even so, she was hoping he would stay over. This was it – she would finally find out if he was her dream man.

Erica walked through the town towards the cathedral, looking at all the people in their costumes, feeling underdressed in her simple outfit. She hadn’t dressed up for Halloween in a long time. The streets were relatively quiet, the few children that did engage in traipsing from house to house for sweets had already gone home for the evening. A gaggle of laughing zombies in tiny skirts stumbled past her, on their way to some pub no doubt. Erica smiled to herself every time she thought about the possibilities of the night ahead. She walked into the Mediterranean restaurant on the cathedral square and hung her coat on the rail in the lobby. She fiddled with the red rose pinned to her blouse. Even though they had seen each other before on camera, they thought it would be fun to wear symbolic red roses for their first date. That’s when she spotted him.

Erica’s heart fluttered as she saw him in the corner, sipping his wine and looking at his phone. She thought how strange it was that they were only just meeting and yet they had already seen each other naked.

As though sensing her arrival, he looked up, and the biggest grin spread across his face. Relieved to see that he wasn’t disappointed, Erica walked over. He stood up and held his hand out to shake hers. She placed her hand in his, all the while looking at his knuckles, his fingers, his skin tone. She was trying to commit this moment to memory because she knew it was important. This was the beginning of the rest of her life.

‘Warren?’ she said, knowing the answer. The smile on her face was beginning to ache. This already felt too good to be true.

He leaned across and kissed her on the cheek. He smelled of expensive aftershave, something understated and slightly feminine, with a little spice to it.

‘It’s good to finally meet you, Erica,’ he said shyly.

‘How is your hotel?’ she asked but regretted it instantly, hoping he wouldn’t think she was alluding to anything.

‘Pretty basic, the bed is quite lumpy and hard. I probably should have forked out for something a little less franchise-y.’

‘Lesson learned for next time, eh?’ She smiled again. He was even better looking in the flesh. His blond surfer hair hung to his shoulders; he looked like something from Sons of Anarchy or a nineties Seattle rock band. His skin was weather-beaten but still somehow perfect. Everything about him was perfect. Why was he looking online for a girlfriend? Why was he interested in her? She could barely understand it but what the hell, this was happening and she was going to enjoy it.

As they both sat down, the waiter came over and took their order. The conversation flowed with such ease that Erica had to warn herself to calm down. Nothing worked out for her, certainly not men, certainly no one as handsome as Warren. She could hear her sister’s voice in her head, telling her to be careful, not to fall too fast – something she had told her a million times. Now that Erica was sitting here face-to-face with Warren, her sister’s words were the furthest thing from her mind.

After finishing their meal, which consisted of the most expensive white wine on the menu, oysters, a seafood risotto and lemon torte, he insisted on paying the bill and they walked out together. He slipped his hand into hers and their fingers interlocked as they walked along the streets. She didn’t want the night to end so they walked through the town together. Instinctively she was taking him to her house. Erica wasn’t ready to let him go yet, not after all this time of waiting to meet him. As they left the town and started walking towards the more residential area, he squeezed her hand. Had he figured out where she was taking him?

Warren kissed Erica on the cheek outside her house on the little side street in Exeter.

‘Thank you for coming, it was great to meet you,’ Erica said.

‘Was it everything you hoped for?’

‘And then some. What time will I see you tomorrow?’ She was testing him, to see if he might ask to come inside – she wanted him to ask.

‘I’ll text you when I’m awake’ he said, backing away slowly, a smile on his face.

She watched him turn and head in the direction of his hotel.

‘Wait!’ she called out.

He turned around. The smile even bigger than before; he knew what she wanted, and she hoped he wanted it too. He walked back towards her quickly and she took his hand, pulling him towards the house as she frantically fumbled around in her handbag for her keys.

They tugged at each other’s clothes as they went up the stairs. By the time they reached the top, they were both in their underwear. She pushed the bedroom door open and they laughed as they fell on the bed, their mouths separated for just long enough before locking back together again. Before she knew it, he was on top of her; she wrapped her legs around his waist as he pushed against her. He pulled away, his chest heaving and the smile still wrapped around his face.

‘Do you have a condom?’

‘Uh … sure,’ she said, scrambling for her bedside cabinet. She hoped she had a condom; it had been so long. God, what if they were out of date? Surely the date was just advisory anyway. If she didn’t check then it didn’t matter.

She found an unopened box and threw it at him. He opened it and pulled out the condom, quickly pulling his pants down and putting it on. She lifted her backside and shimmied her underpants off too. This was really happening. He lay on top of her again and his face hovered above hers. They both held their breath as he pushed his way inside her. His blond hair tickled her face with every thrust. She lifted her hand and tucked his hair behind his ear, it felt strange, synthetic. She would ask him about it after and they would laugh, she would tell him that she didn’t care about his hair, she loved him for him. Now that she had properly met him she didn’t feel silly for calling what they had love. They’d already been talking online for so long, and knew so much about each other. She did love him.

‘Is this OK?’ he asked.

She felt his hand on her throat and nodded; they had talked about this online. She knew the safe word – something else they had discussed. He was gentle anyway, no pressure at all.

‘You can be rougher if you want.’ She felt his hand close around her throat as he pushed harder into her. She wanted a little danger, something a bit less conventional. They were perfect for each other, this was exactly what she had wanted, exactly what she had told him she wanted.

She started to feel dizzy, combined with the arousal she really was flying now; climax was imminent but she needed to breathe. She didn’t have the courage to see it through. Maybe next time. She imagined the weeks they would spend tangled together between the sheets like this. There was no need to hurry.

‘Yellow,’ she said.

‘Just a little more. Trust me,’ he whispered in her ear.

‘Yellow!’ she said again. That was the safe word, wasn’t it? Wasn’t this the end of it? Wasn’t he supposed to stop now? Instead his fingers dug into her neck even harder than before. She was finding it harder to breathe; she started to pound her fists against him but he just carried on. His grip tightened and she felt the tears streaming down the sides of her face. His thrusting was more aggressive now and she wasn’t enjoying this anymore. She could hear a faint muttering coming from him; she was too disoriented to make out the words, but when she focused enough to see his eyes there was no warmth there, just malice.

‘Stupid fucking bitch.’ She heard his last words and the sound of him laughing as she slipped into unconsciousness.