The Optician’s Wife: a compelling new psychological thriller

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The Optician’s Wife: a compelling new psychological thriller Page 13

by Betsy Reavley


  ‘Another little Miller, it will be great. I always wanted a big family. Why stop there?’ He sipped the beer thoughtfully.

  ‘Are you serious?’ I spun around.

  ‘Why not?’ Something odd had come over him. He’d never mentioned wanting a large family before. What had changed? I wanted to ask him, but thought better of it.

  ‘Kids are having beans for dinner. Pizza for us tonight?’ I picked up a takeaway menu that was shoved into one of the drawers.

  ‘Sure. We are celebrating.’

  I stared at the list of pizza toppings and didn’t say a word.

  ‘I hope it’s a girl.’ Larry drained the contents of his beer can and put it to one side. ‘Let’s find out when we go to the scan.’

  I nodded.

  ‘And if it is a girl I think we should call her Paula. I like that name.’

  ‘But what if it’s a boy?’ I didn’t want him to be disappointed.

  ‘Owen.’

  ‘That’s nice. Little Owen Miller.’ I put my hand on my belly and felt a wave of maternal love for the first time since I’d discovered I was expecting. Perhaps this baby would be a positive thing. After all it made Larry happy and that was good enough for me.

  January 22nd 1998

  That morning I had returned from Cambridge Magistrates’ Court. I’d been taken in a police van and hauled up in front of a judge. The police wanted a warrant extended for further detention. The judge granted the warrant and I was returned to the police station where the interview continued.

  ‘No comment.’ I was so tired of repeating the same two words over and over again.

  DS Small sat back in his chair, loosened his tie and rubbed his chin on which a five o’clock shadow had appeared over the few days since I’d been in custody. It seems he’d not had much time to himself either.

  ‘You aren’t helping yourself by staying quiet.’ He looked at me deciding to try another tack. ‘If you know anything you are better off cooperating. The judge will take that into consideration when sentencing.’

  I looked over at Carol, who had dark rings under her eyes where her mascara had smudged over the course of the long day. She nodded wearily.

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Interview suspended at,’ DS Small looked up at the clock on the wall, ‘zero nine forty-three.’ He stood up and turned to DS Martin. ‘I need a coffee.’ The policemen left the room and I was alone again with Carol.

  ‘When can I speak to Larry?’ I turned to her. She took her black jacket off the back of her chair, stood and slipped it on.

  ‘You can’t. It’s that simple.’ She was tired of talking.

  ‘Then I’m not cooperating. Simple.’ I sat in the chair, aware I had been wearing the same clothes for a number of days. I felt dirty.

  ‘That’s up to you Mrs Miller. As your solicitor I strongly advise you rethink your position.’

  ‘But I haven’t done anything.’

  ‘It is information that they want from you now, not a confession. If you know anything it would be wise to share it.

  ‘You want me to admit I know things when I don’t. That doesn’t make any sense. How is that going to help anyone?’

  Carol stood looking at me with both pity and frustration.

  ‘It’s been a long day, but this hasn’t even begun yet.’

  ‘And my kids?’

  ‘They have been taken into care, Mrs Miller. And they will remain there until the police get the information they are after.’ Her dark blue eyes looked at me coldly. She thought I was guilty. I could see it in her eyes.

  ‘You are meant to be on my side.’

  ‘I am,’ she sighed. ‘It’s my job to advise you. What you do with that advice is up to you.’

  ‘If you don’t believe me what hope do I have?’ I couldn’t help feeling sorry for myself. No one thought I was innocent. ‘I’m not a monster.’

  Carol put her hand on my shoulder and patted it before leaving the room. A young chubby officer appeared and escorted me back to my cell.

  ‘Can I get some breakfast?’ I asked before he closed the heavy door behind me.

  ‘I’ll find out.’ He couldn’t look at me. The revolt he held was palpable.

  ‘Make sure you do!’ I called through the locked door between us. ‘I have my rights.’

  I slumped down on the same uncomfortable plastic mattress and closed my eyes. When would this nightmare be over?

  I was woken an hour or so later when the door of my cell opened with a bang. Sitting up and rubbing my tired eyes I saw DS Small standing there.

  ‘Your husband has just confessed to the murder of Mark McCarthy. He says you had nothing to do with it.’ DS Small’s eyes were scrutinising me.

  ‘Can I go home now?’ I stood up expectantly. ‘I want to be with my kids.’

  ‘We’ll arrange for you to be bailed.’ He wasn’t happy about it.

  There was a long uncomfortable silence while we both stood looking at each other. He didn’t like me that was clear, but more than that he didn’t trust me. I did my best not to crumple under his gaze.

  ‘Is that it then?’

  ‘For now Mrs Miller.’ He turned to leave and then stopped. ‘You must be very distraught at this time. You have my sympathies.’ He glanced at me, the sarcasm dripping from his words.

  ‘I’m devastated.’ I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at the floor of the cell.

  ‘He’ll be locked up for a long, long time.’ DS Small added enjoying his victory.

  ‘Anything he did, he did for me.’ I realised what I’d said too late.

  ‘So you did know?’ DS Small was quick to react.

  ‘No, that’s not what I’m saying. You’re twisting my words.’ Suddenly I was flustered and he was in charge.

  ‘The truth doesn’t stay buried forever.’

  I noticed the discolouring of the fabric of his shirt near his armpits and smirked. He had no idea.

  ‘Something funny?’ His eyes were burning with anger.

  ‘No. Not a thing.’

  ‘Good, because if my wife had just confessed to murder I wouldn’t be smiling.’ With that the grin fell from my face. He was right.

  ‘I don’t know how to react, that’s all.’ I felt myself becoming defensive.

  ‘We will arrange a time for you to come back and give a statement.’

  ‘I’m not stitching up my husband if that’s what you’re thinking.’

  ‘About the rape, Mrs Miller.’

  ‘Oh. Fine.’

  I couldn’t understand why he was still standing there. I wanted him to leave and I wanted to get the hell out of that place. I’d already spent too much time in that cell. ‘Is that everything?’ I could hide my impatience.

  ‘For now, Mrs Miller.’ My shoulders dropped. ‘Oh, one last thing,’ he was playing with me and I felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web. ‘Do you know the whereabouts of your sister, Dawn McCarthy?’

  ‘No. Why?’

  ‘We spoke to her husband, and the brother of the man your husband murdered. He says he hasn’t seen her for years. You don’t know where she is?’

  ‘No. We’re not very close.’

  ‘It’s strange. No one seems to know where she is. It’s as if she just disappeared.’

  I was escorted home in a police car. At the end of our street a few local reporters had gathered and I was grateful that a police presence guarded the house from the media. I was told that an officer would be there at all times to protect my family and the equipment that would be delivered to the site.

  Ignoring their questions and the flashing from their cameras I went inside and closed the door. I’d been told that the children would be returned to my care later that day. For now, I was alone.

  Leaving the hallway, I took myself into the kitchen. From the window I could see the tent that had been set up in the garden. A few people wearing white suits were carrying out forensic examin
ations of the site. A small digger was removing vast amounts of dirt and rubble. I didn’t understand what they were looking for. They had already found Mark. DS Small’s mention of Dawn flittered through my head.

  Pushing the grim thought away I poured myself a large glass of water and tried to steady myself. My hands shook. I couldn’t believe I was free. The last few days had been so intense and it had culminated in Larry confessing to murder. I couldn’t fathom why he did it. None of it made any sense. He had always protected me and always promised he would. But this was so much more than I had ever imagined. Murder.

  I watched as they removed the topsoil using the machine and then began searching the area underneath by hand. Rain continued to hamper the search and threatened to flood the hole. One of the officers told me that a Home Office pathologist was at the site and I wondered if I was meant to be impressed.

  Trying not to think about it any longer I went and ran myself a bath. Soon the children would be home and I had to get on with daily life. They needed to be fed and put to bed and that was what I focused on. One thing at a time, I told myself. Concentrate on what you can control and forget about the rest of it for now.

  I took off my purple jumper and jeans and dropped them on to the bathroom floor. The steam rose from the tap and filled the room. I already felt better just being out of those clothes. Next I unclipped my bra and slid my pants down. I sat on the edge of the bath balancing, naked aware that only a few feet away was an open grave.

  For the first time since the whole mess had begun I thought about Ian McCarthy and wondered if nastiness ran through families. His brother had been a piece of work and it turned out he wasn’t much better. Looking back over the years at the turbulent marriage of Ian and Dawn I wondered how different things would have been if they had never married. It all seemed to stem back to them. Everything.

  I lifted my heavy frame down into the water and let my troubles soak away. My legs were covered in stubble and took time and care shaving them with a razor. If I could just clean myself and make myself a little bit more presentable then things would be better, if only on the outside. But it was a start.

  After washing my hair, I got out the bath and towel dried myself. The white tiles on the bathroom floor were cold on my feet. Wrapping the beige towel around my body I took myself upstairs to get dressed. The house had never been so quiet and it felt horrible. Suddenly the place was filled with ghosts. I stood looking in at the boys’ bedroom. They had bunk beds. The room was a mess. They were due home soon and I wondered what I’d say to them. They would be full of questions. How much should I say?

  The idea of having to answer any more questions left me feeling exhausted. But they were Larry’s kids too and they deserved to know what was going on, even if I didn’t fully understand it myself. The press outside would soon be printing things about us. Lies. It was important that the kids heard it from me.

  It dawned on me that from now on I would be a single mother. The realisation hit me hard. Three kids, a husband in prison for murder, no close family around. It wasn’t looking good.

  Flopping down on to the bed I’d shared with Larry for years I inhaled. His scent lingered on his pillow and I felt close to him there. I wondered how he was coping. I needed to be strong for him.

  Shaking myself free from self-pity, I dropped my towel and got dressed. I knew we were sitting on some money and an idea started to brew. If we could get a good solicitor, then maybe Larry would be OK. After all, he only did what any man would do to someone who had hurt his wife. It was almost self-defence. As long as the focus remained on the fact that Mark had raped me, then maybe Larry could get off. It seemed feasible.

  I went downstairs and removed my mobile phone from it’s charger. My hair was still dripping wet. Flicking through my address book I found Carol Winter-Bottom’s number and pressed dial.

  ‘You’ve reached the voicemail of Carol Winter-Bottom. Please leave me a message with your phone number and I’ll call you back. Thank you.’

  Damn. I hung up. I didn’t want to leave a message.

  My stomach started rumbling so I made myself a couple of fried eggs on toast. It was so much nicer than the food down at the station. When I’d finished I put my plate into the sink and stood watching the forensics people come and go. They carried bags of evidence back and forwards, via the side entrance, to their van that was parked out on the street and I wondered what it was they were collecting. Bones? I decided not to think about it any longer. The kids would be home soon and it was important I showed them I was together. It wasn’t only the kids that were going to probe me. Before too long I knew more press would show up. Vultures always hovered around whenever there was the scent of death in the air. It was only a matter of time before more came out of the woodwork.

  In that moment I realised I was so angry and full of hate that I hardly recognise myself. What was happening to me?

  March 19th 1991

  ‘I just wish he wasn’t so angry all of the time.’ Dawn sipped her tea and cradled her daughter with her free arm. The little girl was nearly two years old. She had changed so much and was growing so fast that I barely recognised her.

  Since becoming a mother Dawn suddenly had found the desire to spend time with me. Perhaps it was just that she wanted the company of another woman who understood how challenging parenthood could be. Since Daisy was born she would drop in for a natter every couple of weeks.

  ‘He shouts all the time. I can’t bear it. Even when Daisy is asleep. It’s like he doesn’t care.’

  I watched my younger sister anxiously twiddling a lock of her long hair between her fingers and I found myself enjoying her unhappiness.

  ‘He’s probably just stressed with work or something.’ I tried to play it down. Dawn was prone to overreaction.

  ‘It’s not that. Things are getting worse and worse between us. I feel like I’m losing him.’ Her pretty eyes filled with tears. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Talk to him.’

  ‘He doesn’t want to talk and if I ever suggest it he just tells me that I wouldn’t understand.’ Daisy, who had woken from a nap, was sucking her little fingers. ‘It’s all since Mark disappeared.’

  ‘Strange business.’ I shifted in my seat. ‘How long ago was that?’

  ‘Nearly two years.’

  ‘And no one has ever heard from him since?’

  ‘No.’ She looked miserable. ‘That’s half the problem. They were thick as thieves, those brothers. Ian has never been the same since Mark vanished.’

  I munched thoughtfully on a digestive biscuit but said nothing.

  ‘Sometimes I’m scared of him. He gets this look in his eye and I think he’s going to hurt me.’

  ‘Dawn,’ I moved closer to her and put my hand on her shoulder, ‘has he ever done anything?’

  ‘No, no. But it’s as if he wants to. I don’t know I’m probably being silly.’ She did her best to convince herself but it wasn’t working on me.

  ‘You know, if he ever lays a finger on you then you pack a bag and you come here with Daisy. Larry and I will take care of you both.’

  Dawn gave a small grateful smile and tipped her head to one side slightly, looking at me strangely.

  ‘You’ve changed,’ she said, thinking out loud.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’re so different from how you used to be before you met Larry and had the kids. I hardly recognise you sometimes.’ I looked down at my expanding baby bump and rubbed my tummy.

  ‘I’ve grown up, that’s all.’

  ‘No,’ Dawn cut in sounding very serious, ‘it’s more than that. You used to be so shy, so awkward and now you’re sitting here giving me relationship advice. I would never have believed this day would come.’

  Her back handed compliment felt like a slap to the face.

  ‘I finally worked out who I am. I’m happier now.’

  ‘And so much more confident.’ Dawn sat Dai
sy upright on her lap and handed her a biscuit. ‘It’s funny how things change. A few years ago I was the popular one. Now I spend all my time being a housewife and trying not to piss off my husband. It’s like I’m walking on eggshells. That’s how you used to be. It’s as if we’ve swapped lives.’

  ‘In those days you didn’t really want to talk to me. You thought I was an embarrassment.’ I looked across at her, dead in the eye.

  ‘We were just so different. We didn’t have much in common then.’ Dawn did her best to sweep the past under the carpet but I hadn’t forgotten.

  ‘And now we are even?’

  ‘Yes. I suppose.’ Dawn was not comfortable admitting it.

  ‘Well, getting back to you and Ian, if I were you I’d go out and buy some nice underwear. When I want to help Larry relax that’s what I do. It works every time. Get a babysitter to have Daisy for the night and look after your man. You’ll see, I bet things will improve after a bit of bump and grind.’

  ‘Deborah!’ Dawn looked horrified.

  ‘What? You don’t think the stork delivered my kids do you?’ I couldn’t believe she was being such a prude. Out of the two of us she was always the slutty one. ‘Men are simple creatures. Learn how to stroke them right and your life will be a piece of cake.’

  ‘I tell you that I’m worried Ian is going to batter me and your answer is what, a blow-job?’

  ‘Why not? Give it a go at least. Unless you want to give up on your marriage before it’s even begun.’

  There was silence between us for a while and I could see that Dawn was angry. In the background Roxette played on the radio.

  ‘I don’t think you understand how much the family were affected. When Mark disappeared it upset everyone really badly. Ian’s mother is a wreck. She doesn’t know where her son is or why he left without saying a word. Every day she thinks about him, wondering where he is and if he’s all right. It’s the same for Ian, except it’s worse because he has her to worry about, too. It’s like time stopped when he went and now all the people left behind are stuck in limbo. It’s not right anyone should have to live with not knowing what happened to a loved one. Imagine if Dad just disappeared one day.’

 

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