The Promise: The twisty new thriller from the Sunday Times bestseller, guaranteed to keep you up all night. Katerina Diamond
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;