The Optician’s Wife: a compelling new psychological thriller

by Betsy Reavley

  You could spot Dawn’s daughter a mile away. She looked so different to her cousins. She was always nicely turned out, her hair brushed and clothes neat. Daisy sat sweetly on the carpet eating an apple while my kids shoved handfuls of crisps into their mouths. Sue-Ann was on the sofa looking sulky. She wanted to go out and play with her friends but I told her she had to stay and help look after the little ones. Her bottom lip stuck out and for a moment I imagined myself slapping her too.

  ‘I’m going to the shop,’ I told them. ‘Be good.’ Not one of them turned to look at me or responded.

  Larry came back from work with fish and chips for us all. Said he wanted to save me having to make dinner. I wasn’t much of a cook and we all knew it.

  Sitting around the kitchen table Dawn, Larry and I munched happily on the greasy chips, dipping them into curry sauce. None of us said anything. I was looking forward to having Larry to myself. I wanted to get him on side and agree with me that Dawn should move out. I didn’t want to throw her out with nowhere to go. Nothing so unkind. We’d tell her it was time she got a job and moved on with her life. She didn’t really expect to live with us for the rest of her life did she?

  From the kitchen I could hear the blare from the TV where the kids were all sitting watching something and eating their dinner. I often fed them in front of the telly. It was easier that way and they never complained.

  Dawn had had her fill of food and pushed the paper away dabbing a napkin on her mouth.

  ‘I’m stuffed.’ She hadn’t eaten half the amount I had.

  ‘More for me.’ Larry reached over and grabbed a handful of chips.

  ‘Naughty.’ She slapped the back of his hand lightly and smiled.

  ‘I’m a growing lad.’ Larry sat back patting his stomach.

  ‘Do you have to flirt like that?’ I looked at Dawn angrily.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. We aren’t flirting.’ Dawn blushed.

  ‘Don’t treat me like a fool. I wasn’t born yesterday. Have some fucking respect.’

  Larry sat silently, still chewing on a mouthful of battered fish.

  ‘Say something.’ Dawn nudged his arm.

  ‘Don’t expect him to stick up for you.’ I stood up and put my hands on my hips. ‘You have pushed me far enough this time. What sort of woman tries it on with her sister’s husband?’

  ‘You are imagining things. Larry, tell her please.’

  ‘Dee,’ Larry turned to me.

  ‘Don’t Dee me. I’ve had it up to here. We’ve taken you in and looked after you. But I really think it’s time you moved out. Get a job. Stand on your own two feet. Stop scrounging off us.’

  ‘You want me to move out?’ Dawn’s eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip quivered.

  ‘Yes. I do.’ I glared at her, unmoved by her show of emotion.

  ‘Enough.’ Larry stood up and slammed him hand down on the table. ‘That is enough, Dee. Dawn is family. We look after our own.’

  ‘But Larry–’

  ‘But nothing. This is my house and I say who lives under this roof. Dawn,’ he turned to her and put his hand on her shoulder, ‘Of course you are staying. Dee is just upset.

  I was gobsmacked. I stood there looking at my husband and sister side with each other.

  ‘Why don’t you go and sleep in her bed tonight. You’re not sleeping in mine.’

  Before I even knew what had happened he hit me across the cheek with the back of his hand. It stung and I sat down in shock.

  Dawn looked taken back.

  ‘I’m sorry you had to witness that, Dawn.’ Larry rubbed his chin and made an effort to calm himself down. Dawn said nothing. She couldn’t look at me. ‘Go and have a bath or something.’ Larry turned to me. His stare was cold. ‘Clean yourself up and then come up to bed.

  It was my turn to have tears well up. ‘I’m sorry.’ My voice sounded hoarse.

  ‘It’s fine. Have a bath and then go upstairs and put on that lacy nightdress. You can make it up to me in bed.’

  Dawn looked embarrassed and busied herself by clearing away the leftovers.

  I nodded and stood silently before leaving the room. My cheek was burning and I could taste blood in my mouth.

  ‘You aren’t going anywhere,’ I heard Larry say to Dawn as I closed the door to the bathroom.

  January 29th 1998

  I’m sitting in that dingy flat again, cooped up watching crap on TV. Less than half an hour ago it was confirmed that the body of the child was Daisy.

  Helen came in and tried to tell me gently and when I didn’t react by breaking down she seemed shocked. I knew it was Daisy. Of course I did. What did she expect? I’m not an openly emotional person. I keep my feelings to myself. What use is it crying and rolling around on the floor? She’s dead. The worst has already happened.

  ‘I’ll bury her with her mother,’ I told Helen as I looked out of the window at a flock of birds that was flying by. ‘They should be together.’

  ‘Yes. Of course.’ Helen looked sombre but she didn’t have the right. It wasn’t her family that had been dug up.

  ‘Has Larry said anything?’ I was desperate for news.

  ‘He is being interviewed again now. I’ll let you know when I hear.’

  ‘I just can’t believe it. He’s such a gentle man. It doesn’t make sense. I just wish that I could talk to him.’

  ‘He will be charged with the murders of both Dawn and Daisy.’

  ‘Has he admitted it?’ I didn’t know my voice could reach that pitch.

  ‘No. He is still saying nothing. But there is overwhelming evidence.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I can’t say. It might jeopardise the investigation.’

  ‘When can I go home?’

  ‘You will be the first to know.’

  Owen had been taken into care the day before under an Emergency Protection Order. Social services had whisked him away before I had a chance to object.

  ‘I’m not staying here much longer. Owen needs to be back in his own bed. This place gives me the creeps and the hallways smells like piss.’

  ‘Yes, well,’ Helen tried to mask a smile, ‘the budget only stretches so far.’

  ‘It stretches far enough to be able to dig up the whole of my basement. I hope your lot put everything back the way they found it when they’ve finished.’

  ‘If you don’t mind me saying,’ Helen cocked her head to one side, ‘you could do with being a little bit softer.’

  I stopped looking at the TV and turned to face her.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You are dealing with a hell of a lot at the moment. There is so much to take in. I understand you are trying to keep it together for Owen but it’s OK to show your vulnerability sometimes. None of us would think badly of you if you did.’

  She was trying to be kind. I got that, but it wasn’t helpful.

  ‘You think I’m a cold bitch don’t you.’

  ‘Not at all. It’s just that you come across as very defensive. No one is accusing you of anything.’

  ‘You might not be but I don’t think you can say the same for Small.’

  ‘It is his job to be probing in interviews.’

  ‘Downright rude I call it. He nearly came out and accused me of having something to do with the deaths. As if I could ever hurt my sister or my niece. Bloody cheek. As if I haven’t got enough to cope with without being made to feel like some sort of criminal. It makes my blood boil.’

  Just then Helen’s mobile phone rang.

  ‘Sorry, I need to take this.’ She said standing up and ducking into the hallway to speak in private.

  I could hear mumbled words and turned the volume on the television up. I was sick of the sound of her voice.

  A few minutes later her head appeared around the door.

  ‘I’ve just finished speaking to Small. Larry has admitted to all three murders.’

  January
30th 1998

  Larry appeared in Cambridge Magistrates’ court on three counts of murder and was remanded in custody at Cambridge police station for 28 days. He was to reappear at the court on February 20th.

  Larry’s solicitor, Howard Bennett, had to give written consent that would allow Larry to be held in the station rather than transferred to another prison. The Home Office gave permission for him to remain there under Section 29 of the Criminal Justice Act under normal remand conditions.

  Owen was returned to me but we couldn’t go home. Police officers carried on digging in the cellar but hadn’t found anything else. I was told that day that a warrant had been granted allowing them to search the rest of the house. Helen told me all the floors would be looked at.

  ‘Who else do you think he’s killed?’ I was exasperated. ‘Will this never end?’

  ‘They have to be sure there are no more remains.’

  ‘He’s not some mad serial killer, you know.’ Helen remained silent. ‘Has he told you why he hurt Dawn and little Daisy? I need to know. I have a right to know.’

  ‘He claims he caught her stealing from his wallet.’

  ‘He wouldn’t hurt her over a bloody tenner! There must be more to it than that.’

  ‘Larry told officers that when he found her taking the money he lost his temper and hit her. It seems she hit her head on floor and had a bleed to the brain. It was an accident.’

  ‘But that doesn’t explain Daisy.’

  ‘He said that the little girl came in and saw her mother on the floor and he panicked.’ Helen placed her hand on my shoulder.

  ‘This is all Dawn’s fault.’ I sobbed into the sleeve of my cardigan. ‘If she hadn’t tried to steal then none of this would have happened.’

  ‘I’m sorry to add to your worries but I think you should know that DS Small is currently talking to Sue-Ann.’

  ‘Why? What for?’

  ‘It seems she saw her father burning Dawn’s belonging one night. She alerted us to that information and he wants to ask her if she remembers anything else significant.’

  ‘I wouldn’t trust a word that comes out of that girl’s mouth if I were you.’ I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. ‘She’s been trouble ever since the day she was born. She’d say anything to get her father in trouble.’

  ‘That may be,’ Helen look sceptical, ‘but Larry has admitted to the killings. Sue-Ann is simply helping the police tie up the loose ends.’

  ‘If she thought her dad killed her aunt why didn’t she say something sooner. Can you tell me that?’ I looked at Helen defiantly.

  ‘I can’t possibly comment.’

  ‘What sort of answer is that?’

  ‘The only one you are going to get.’ She picked up her mobile phone and started to compose a text.

  February 20th 1998

  Larry appeared at Cambridge Magistrates’ Court for a second time and was again remanded in custody for a further 28 days while the search of our house continued.

  By then I had given up asking when I could return home. It didn’t seem like there would be much of a home for me to go back to. By all accounts the place had been turned upside down. The floors had been dug up and excavations made of the entire garden. But they didn’t find anything else. I knew they wouldn’t.

  Our faces were all over the newspaper. Pictures of Larry plastered on the front pages. They called him all sorts. They were vicious. It’s as if they forgot he had kids who would read their lies. I was offered so much money to do interviews but I declined every one. No way would I help the press muddy Larry’s name.

  Despite numerous attempts I didn’t speak to Sue-Ann or Robbie. Aunt Mary had taken them in on a permanent basis and she told me they couldn’t face me. So I kept my distance and did as she asked. I still had Owen at least and he was a good boy. He never asked questions about his Dad. He just seemed to accept that something bad had happened. I explained to him that his Dad had gone away for a while. I knew he had seen the papers and the news on the telly but he didn’t argue. He was never that close to his dad anyway.

  I saw less and less of Helen. Her boss obviously deemed it unnecessary for her to remain glued to my side for any longer. That was a relief. Although, in a strange way, I missed her. She was my only link to the outside world. Apart from bloody DS Small she was the only other adult I communicated with. For the first time since I’d been a gawky teenager I felt alone. Those feelings of insecurity and loneliness came flooding back. I hadn’t been that person for such a long time and I didn’t know how to deal with it. So I started to drink. I wasn’t a drunk. My dad had taught me better than that, but I did enjoy my wine every night. It helped me to sleep better and it numbed the throbbing in my head.

  I was a prisoner in that horrid flat. I couldn’t go out. My picture was everywhere and the press were desperate to get hold of me. When I did venture out, to get groceries or whatever, I made sure I wore a hat and wrapped a scarf around my mouth. Luckily it was winter so I could hide behind my clothes. Things would have been very different if it was the middle of summer.

  A few days ago it had snowed and Owen had asked to go to the park to play. I told him he had to go on his own but he should come straight home after and not speak to strangers. I didn’t want to risk being seen by any of the other parents.

  Once upon a time I would have been able to call up one of his friends’ mum’s and ask her to take him out. But people avoided us and didn’t want to be associated with me. I didn’t mind for myself but I felt bad for Owen. He was suffering and he hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d made good friends with an Indian boy in his class who he used to play with a lot, but Owen told me the boy didn’t want to be his friend any more. It made me cross. I wanted to march down to that school and give them a piece of my mind. In the old days I would have done just that. But things had changed and me losing my temper would have only made matters worse.

  I resigned myself to keeping my head down until the whole horrible business was over, even if I didn’t have a clue when that might be.

  March 19th 1998

  Once more Larry went before the Magistrates’ Court. They announced his committal hearing would take place on July 21st. His solicitor explained to me that, because of the nature of his crimes, his case was being referred to the Crown court.

  I didn’t like Howard Bennett one little bit. He never seemed to want to do anything to help Larry. He saw his task as going through the motions. I’d told him to try and get Larry to retract his confession but Bennett just laughed and said it didn’t work like that.

  Of course Larry wasn’t given bail. The magistrate sent him back to his cell. It was the first time I had seen him since January 18th. He smiled at me across the courtroom. I couldn’t look at him, but I felt his eyes on me. Everyone was looking at him but he only had eyes for me.

  ‘I love you Dee.’ He called out as he was led away by officers. My heart did a little flip when I heard those words. I knew he still loved me. Some things hadn’t changed.

  In the lobby Bennett explained that next came the sentencing and that the prosecution would be asked to present all the facts in front of a judge.

  ‘But he has already pleaded guilty.’

  ‘Yes, but it is his legal right to ask that the facts be presented so that he can dispute anything he feels isn’t right surrounding the circumstances. It’s standard procedure.’ Bennett was looking at his watch and clearly desperate to leave.

  ‘So that’s it, is it? He’s going to prison for the rest of his life and you’re only worried about the time.’

  ‘Mrs Miller,’ he straightened his tie, ‘your husband has pleaded guilty. There is nothing more I can do.’

  ‘Well thanks for nothing.’ I turned on my heels and marched away from him. I was dreading leaving the court. I knew the press were gathered outside like vultures waiting to pounce.

  As I neared the door leading to the street I spotted DS Small talking to a woman in a
suit. The moment he saw me he made his excuses to her and came over, his hands casually in his pockets.

  ‘Mrs Miller.’ He nodded his head.

  ‘Detective.’ I wanted the ground to swallow me up.

  ‘You know, there’s something bothering me about this case.’

  ‘Oh yeah, and what’s that?’ I didn’t want to listen to his answer and feigned boredom.

  ‘Something about it all doesn’t quite add up.’ He was playing with me, taunting me and stringing the conversation out.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be telling this to your superiors?’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, I already have.’

  ‘Good for you. Well, it was nice catching up, but I’ve got to get home to my son.’ I pulled my coat collar up around my neck and tucked my face down.

  ‘I’m not done with your husband yet,’ Small said as I walked away from him.

  I stopped still and turned to look at the horrid little man.

  ‘Haven’t you done enough already? He’s said he’s guilty. He’s admitted it. What else do you want?’

  ‘I think that Larry can help us with another case. Something altogether separate.’

  ‘What’s that then?’ He had caught my interest.

  ‘The bodies that kept showing up in the river.’ His lips curved into a thin smile. ‘I’ve got a sneaking suspicion your Larry might be able to help us out.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous!’

  ‘Is it?’ Small turned and walked away leaving me feeling very uneasy.

  April 11st 1998

  I’d heard the day before that Owen and I could move back into the house at Alpha Terrace. The crime scene people had finished their excavation and were packing up. Finally.

  Helen warned me that the place would be in a very different state to the way I had left it. She told me that tonnes of concrete had been used to fill the holes in the basement floor and the garden. Now the council were just waiting to hear that the building was still structurally safe after all the knocking about that had taken place.