Blog Tour Spotlight: Playdate by Alex Dahl
Playdate
by Alex Dahl
It was meant to be your
daughter's first sleepover.
Now it's an abduction.
Lucia Blix went home from school for a playdate with her
new friend Josie. Later that evening, Lucia's mother Elisa dropped her
overnight things round and kissed her little girl goodnight.
That was the last time she saw her daughter.
The next morning, when Lucia's dad arrived to pick her
up, the house was empty. No furniture, no family, no Lucia.
In Playdate, Alex Dahl puts a
microscope on a seemingly average, seemingly happy family plunged into a
life-altering situation. Who has taken their daughter, and why?
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Alex Dahl is a half-American, half-Norwegian
author. Born in Oslo, she studied Russian and German linguistics with
international studies, then went on to complete an MA in creative writing at
Bath Spa University and an MSc in business management at Bath University. A
committed Francophile, Alex loves to travel, and has so far lived in Moscow,
Paris, Stuttgart, Sandefjord, Switzerland, Bath and London. Her first thriller,
The Boy at the Door, was a Sunday
Times Crime Club star pick and was shortlisted for the CWA Debut Dagger.
EXTRACT:
Elisa
Sandefjord, 19 October 2018
I’ve had the day off, cramming all the things I never normally have time
for into the afternoon – highlights and a trim, nails, a half-hearted hour at
the gym, and I’m almost late for pick-up. First, I got stuck in bad traffic by
the E18 motorway exit, and then Lyder decided to throw a fit when I picked him
up from nursery, dropping to the floor like a slab of meat, flopping around in
my arms and rolling his eyes back as I shoved his limp limbs into his winter
suit.
‘Stop it,’ I hissed, pushing his stockinged feet into
his sheepskin boots before grabbing his lunch box, an enormous cardboard
artwork and his nursery folder in one hand, my other hand half-dragging my son
out the door. ‘Come on!’
In the car, Lyder whines about the fact that I haven’t
brought him a snack.
‘Everyone else gets raisins after nursery,’ he wails.
‘Or carrots. Or biscuits. Carl gets biscuits, the kind with chocolate bits in
them, it isn’t fair…’ I block out his thin voice droning on and on. It’s been a
long week and I feel the beginnings of a headache at the back of my skull. I
press my finger to the spot that hurts, staring at a red light taking forever.
Three minutes left until pick-up time. Four minutes before Aud, the sour-faced
woman running the after-school club starts stabbing my phone number with her
long acrylic nails.
The light turns green and I drive fast down the last
few quiet suburban roads to Korsvik School, making Lyder giggle nervously in
the back seat at the squeal of the tires. I pull up in front of the school and
hand Lyder my iPhone, his face breaking into a surprised smile. It’s 4.29 – I
made it.
‘I’ll be right back,’ I say, and hurry across the
school yard to the brightly lit red wooden building.
‘Mamma!’ squeals Lucia and runs towards me. She jumps
into my arms and I kiss her soft golden hair. ‘You’re late.’
‘No, I’m right on time, actually.’
‘Can I go home with Josephine?’
‘Who’s Josephine?’
‘She’s a new girl in my class. Can I? Please?’
‘Not today, sweetie. You know we have to arrange
playdates ahead of time, it’s just easier.’
‘Her mom said it’s fine. They’re waiting, in the
cloakroom.’
‘Sweetheart…’
‘Please, Mamma.’ Lucia points through the open doorway
to the changing area shared by first- and second-graders.
I sigh and go through with her. A little girl wearing
a beautiful pink quilted Moncler jacket and moon boots sits on the bench in the
far corner, next to an equally chic-looking mother.
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