The Next Wife: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller with a killer twist

by Liz Lawler

  Julia was untying Suzanne’s gown when Stella and Daniel made an appearance. Daniel’s face looked strained. Stella’s serious. Stella spoke first.

  ‘I’m glad you’re all still here. As I’m sure you’re aware an incident Datix report now has to be completed. If at some time between now and tomorrow you could all write a statement on your actions and observations for the patient operated on this morning, I would be grateful.’

  Tess, like her other colleagues, expected a Datix to be completed. The form for reporting any unintended or unexpected incidents leading to harm or a near miss to a patient had to be documented. A patient returning to theatre was an incident, but it was not uncommon. It shouldn’t happen, but sometimes it did. What she hadn’t expected was for them all to be asked to give a statement. This was only asked for if the situation was being investigated. Her heart fluttered with alarm. Her eyes sought out her husband. Was Stella asking them all to write about him?

  Suzanne stepped away from Julia, making her way towards her consultant, who had yet to say a word. Her lovely calm voice spoke only to him.

  ‘What happened? Did he die on the table?’

  Daniel shook his head quickly. ‘No, he’s in ITU.’

  ‘So what happened?’ she asked again. ‘A bleed?’

  He folded his arms against his chest and slowly nodded. ‘The anastomosis had dehisced. The whole lot must have burst apart when his blood pressure returned to normal in recovery.’

  Suzanne’s eyes rounded. ‘Surely not. How?’ she said, less calm now.

  ‘When we went back in, he was bleeding out from his femoral artery. Once I had proximal control, you could see the suture end was floating in the wound. The final suture must have been cut too short. The scissors… clipped the knot as well.’

  Suzanne looked horrified. ‘But you wouldn’t have…’

  He sighed heavily, looking briefly away as if it pained him having to admit this to her. ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Well, then who? How? I was on the phone. I don’t understand.’

  Daniel stared right across the room. He took a couple of steps towards the person he was looking at, his expression regretful. ‘I’m sorry, Tess,’ he said. ‘I know you were only trying to help, and if I’d seen what you were about to do, I would have stopped you. But regrettably you did and unfortunately you cut too short.’

  Tess gazed unseeing back at him. Her mind had gone fuzzy. She couldn’t feel her legs beneath her, or move her head even. She could feel shock, though. Her heart felt like it was pushing its way up her throat. Her husband had just said the most incredible thing. If she didn’t know better she would believe him. She focused her eyes on his face. Waiting for him to take back what he said. But he just stood there. Why didn’t he say something? Do something? Didn’t he care? She couldn’t breathe for looking at him. She couldn’t turn or get away.

  The room spun. Her eyelids fluttered and she felt herself falling through air.

  ‘Oh Christ,’ she heard her husband say. ‘Someone help her.’

  Tess felt hands touch her as she was lifted and repositioned onto something soft, and then she was able to stare up at their faces as she lay on her back.

  ‘Let me see her,’ she heard her husband say. ‘She’s in shock. Suzanne, get a line in, please. Let’s give her some fluids.’

  Tess smiled. This was the second time he’d joked about her having fluids. A sharp prick went into the crook of her elbow. She saw Cameron’s face above her. He smiled down at her kindly. ‘You’re okay, Tess,’ he said soothingly, stroking her brow.

  A minute or two later, Tess wished she couldn’t see so clearly the faces of the people standing around her as she lay on the operating table. Stella, Suzanne, Lucy, the nice Dr Bob, Cameron, Julia, Daniel. Stella looked deeply concerned.

  ‘Tess, when you’re rested and feel better, I’m going to organise a taxi to take you home.’

  ‘I’ll go with her,’ Cameron offered. ‘She shouldn’t be on her own.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Stella replied, giving him a grateful look, and a nod to say she wanted a quick word.

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Daniel said quietly, interrupting their plan, causing Stella and Cameron to stare back at him puzzled. ‘I will take Tess home,’ he said firmly.

  ‘Mr Myers, that won’t be necessary,’ Stella replied, sounding shocked by the suggestion. ‘Cameron is more than capable.’

  ‘As am I, Stella,’ he answered wearily, before looking around the table at them all. ‘Thank you for your kind offer, Cameron, and thank you everyone for your help, but Tess is my responsibility. As her husband, I will take Tess home.’

  Later, Tess will wonder if she only imagined hearing the gasps. What she won’t imagine is the hurt in Cameron’s eyes or the disappointment in Stella’s.

  Tess got off the bed. She’d been lying down since they got home, not sleeping, but with her eyes closed. Padding over to the window she drew back the curtains. It was dark outside and she had no idea of the time. Moving over to the tall chest of drawers where she left the things she’d emptied out of her pockets, she couldn’t see her phone. Her pens, scissors, tourniquet and lanyard were still there, but no mobile. She’d definitely had it in the pocket of her scrubs, which she was still wearing, but more importantly she definitely brought it home and put it here with her other things. She went back to the bed and searched under the pillows, in case she’d picked it back up unconsciously and taken it there. But there was no sign of it.

  She sat back down on the bed, listening to the silence. She couldn’t hear any sounds in the house and wondered if she was home alone. Had he gone back to the hospital after she’d gone to bed? She would go downstairs and make herself a drink. Then have a bath. Then she’d do some washing or ironing or some cleaning. She would put on the garden light and bag up the hedge trimmings. She saw yesterday they were still on the ground from two weeks ago. After cutting back the growth he hadn’t cleared up the dropped leaves and branches. She would stay busy. That was the best thing she could do. She was not yet ready to think about her husband. Or say his name. She just had to stay busy.

  Quietly entering the kitchen she went stiff with shock when Daniel rose from a chair. She blinked, then carried on moving, reaching for the kettle to turn it on. She took a mug already in the sink and rinsed it with cold water, not bothering to dry it before spooning in coffee. She fetched milk from the fridge and splashed some in, then put it back, before returning to the kettle not yet boiled to stir water into the mug. She drank nearly all of it in one go, taking gulp after gulp, then put the mug back in the sink, before moving on autopilot towards the door.

  ‘Stella said to tell you not to worry over keeping your married name a secret. She said she’d call you tomorrow.’

  Tess turned to stare at her husband. ‘And what will she ring me on?’ she asked in a hollow voice.

  He held up her phone. ‘I’ve taken this away from you. I think it best you don’t be bothered by people. Best you not contact them and have chats that might upset you. Stella has the landline number. She’ll call you on that. She understands how difficult this is for you.’

  Tess felt her eyes press with tears. ‘I understand why you did it. You needed me to take the fall, but did you have to do it like that in front of everybody? Could you not at least have warned me?’ She didn’t really want to hear his answer. She hurt too much. She wanted to be on her own curled up in a ball.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry it was done that way, but I had no choice. The shame of it is, it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been there, if you’d stayed home. I realise that now. It was a mistake I shouldn’t have let happen.’

  Tess found she couldn’t swallow. What did that even mean? Was he saying this was her fault because she’d distracted him? She caused him to make an error?

  ‘Are you blaming me for something you caused? Is this to punish me because I got a job? What actually happened?’

  He gave a maddening sigh. ‘Look, I’ve seen i
t all before. Juniors, who haven’t been properly trained to use the tip of the scissors and don’t have proper control, commonly cut too short.’

  ‘Why are you saying I did that?’

  ‘I’m just stating a fact.’

  The lump in her throat was lodged so hard it was going to suffocate her if it didn’t move. His words were killing her. His voice, more so. He could be discussing the weather, not the monumental shock she was suffering!

  ‘I didn’t cut short, I saw the knot and cut above it,’ she insisted. ‘Why don’t you admit that. If I’m taking the fall I at least deserve some honesty.’

  He stared at her, shaking his head from side to side, his eyes pitying her. ‘You see, there’s the problem, Tess. I can’t help you with that, I’m afraid, if you really believe that. Maybe tomorrow when you’ve had time to think, you’ll remember it better. You’ve had a shock today. Your mind is still cloudy.’

  She stared at him astonished. Was he trying to deceive her or himself? The wheels were already in motion. She was getting the blame regardless, because what else could she do? With no other witnesses it would be his word against hers and his were far stronger. And what of their marriage – was it now over? Should she move out and file for a divorce? Why couldn’t he do this one thing and tell her the truth? Could he not trust her enough with it? She was not going to blurt it out. It would be between them and it would help her to at least not feel so alone. ‘I didn’t cut short,’ she said again. ‘And my mind is clear.’

  ‘You need some rest, Tess. I’m trying to help you here for both our sakes.’

  She fixed her eyes on the black-and-white chequerboard tiles in the hallway. She would wash them tomorrow, get rid of the scuff marks left on the whites from his shoes.

  ‘Try not to dwell on today.’ He gave her shoulder a light squeeze as if to add weight to this advice.

  ‘Do you even love me?’ she asked quietly.

  He tutted mildly. ‘Of course I do, you silly thing.’ He kissed the top of her head then gave her a light push towards the door. ‘You need sleep. You’re exhausted.’

  On leaden legs, Tess climbed back up the stairs. At the bedroom door she looked for herself in the bed, sure that if she looked hard enough she would see her sleeping form still lying there, tossing and turning in a nightmare. She couldn’t be awake because to be awake would make downstairs real. He hadn’t given an inch. She was taking the fall, yet he couldn’t even acknowledge it. Was the truth really that hard to reveal? Whatever caused the problem was an accident. It was no one’s fault so why make it hers? Was he that desperate to save his reputation? She guessed he probably was, which made her feel even sadder. He’d used her to save his career without a second thought.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tess didn’t know how she got through the night. Probably by keeping her mind blank, by keeping her eyes busy seeing things to dissect, follow, shape. She had traced the hairline cracks crossing the ceiling, turning them to streams following their course to small brown stains that shaped nicely into islands or curved bridges or elephants. Yellowy flakes gave texture to baby hair, desert grass, tiny hairs on a bee. Small stains, small cracks, small blemishes of a ceiling and lights kept on had kept her busy. All the while it was dark outside.

  His side of the bed was smooth, the pillow undented. He’d let her sleep on her own and was now at work as she’d heard his car pull off the drive. She pulled back the sheet and got out of the bed. Her legs felt rubbery and had the same feeling in them as after running the London Marathon. Run only once and never again. Her legs had been weakened for days.

  The landing floorboards were awash with a golden light from sunlight shining through the window straight ahead. It was a beautiful window without curtains that you immediately saw when you came out of the rooms on this floor. It was her favourite part of the house. She had seen images of her future on this landing. A small boy making brum brum sounds as he rolled his cars along its smooth length. A small girl pushing her pushchair with her baby doll or having a large doll’s house against one of the walls where she could play with her make-believe families.

  Tess walked resolutely ahead. After yesterday, she had no idea about the future anymore.

  When ready, her bed made, bathroom tidied and scrubs hidden in the laundry bin, she went down the stairs. The place was quiet except for the tick of the clocks which in the quietness she didn’t mind. For now they were soothing. In the kitchen she saw he had left her a note and also a twenty-pound note.

  Money to buy something from the butcher. Nothing too fatty. D x

  She stared at the money as if it were alien to her. Why had he left it? She had a bank card to one of his accounts if she wanted anything. She saw her bag on the kitchen table and went over to look inside it. Her purse was at the top, but she normally kept it at the bottom. The pockets of the purse now only held a Sainsbury’s Nectar card to collect points and a Costa coffee loyalty card. Her Lloyds debit card was missing. Tess computed this information very quickly.

  She had virtually no money of her own. Her Barclays account, the one she’d had for the last ten years, had dwindled away to nothing as she spent the small savings she had getting married. A wedding dress for her, a bridesmaid’s dress for Sara, and then a huge list of other things: bouquets, hair, nails, a gift for him, flowers for his mother, shoes, underwear. Added to her last payment of rent on her flat it had taken almost all her cash. She and Sara never got back their deposit, as they hadn’t the time to do all the things one was supposed to do when giving up a tenancy – fixing the toilet door handle back on, cleaning the cooker properly. With Tess suddenly moving to Bath, Sara took the option to move in with her parents while waiting for her job in Australia to start. He knew she had no money of her own. So why had he taken away her debit card?

  She took the twenty-pound note and put it in a compartment in her purse. She would find something in the freezer to defrost. Whether she cooked it or not was not something she could think of right now. She had things to do. She needed to make some coffee and then be busy. The clock on the kitchen wall read ten past ten. Yesterday, she had been up four hours by now.

  As she switched the kettle on she heard the telephone ring. She walked out into the hallway and stared at it as if it were a dangerous animal, before gingerly picking up the receiver.

  ‘Hello.’

  She slumped with relief at hearing a man’s voice. It wasn’t the call from Stella. Her mind elsewhere, she missed the introduction of who he was or why he was ringing and asked him to say it again.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said pleasantly. ‘It was really Mr Myers I wished to speak to. This is Dobsters Estate Agents in London.’

  ‘I’m Mrs Myers,’ she replied.

  ‘Oh, well, that’s good. It’s about the flat. Very good news indeed I’m happy to say. We’ve sold it and with no chain either, so we’re looking at a very quick move here. So it’s really now a matter of the contents. There’s a lot of furniture, of course, but also a lot of personal stuff. So perhaps you or Mr Myers could get back to me with a timeframe of when this can be done?’

  Tess was still numbed from yesterday so all she could do was parrot back his message and say that she would tell her husband, and of course get back to him.

  When the call ended, Tess computed this new information. This house had not been bought with the money her husband got from the sale of his flat in London. He had not yet had that money to buy it. Did this mean he was up to his ears in debt? She went back to the kitchen. She had jobs to do. She finished making the coffee. The sun outside was shining through the kitchen window making her want to feel its warmth. She didn’t feel cold, but when she’d touched her skin it was like touching something from the fridge.

  The garden was large and square, laid mainly to lawn with a path to a small summer house. The tall hedging wrapped around it looked neater for its trim, the hedge clippings dry on the ground from the sun. She would fetch the garden bin from the garage and collect up what he’d
just left dropped there.

  The garage was unfamiliar to her. The wide doors were tricky to undo as there were two locks she had to find keys for from the big bunch she had in her hand. She’d taken them from a hook on the wall next to the back door. Once inside the garage she was surprised that it looked smaller, though that was probably because of all the stuff left there. Old kitchen cupboards converted for garage use and metal cabinets used for storing heavy-weight tools. Lawnmowers, three of them, none with electric cables, and an old grass roller made of cast iron. Gripping the handle of the garden bin she wheeled it out of its space and saw a small wooden toddler trike with red handles and red wooden wheels. It had been hidden behind it. The sight of it saddened her. She imagined such a contraption being used by a toddler on the landing floor. The space was long enough and wide enough to have a good ride.

  The sound of the phone ringing had her walking at a faster pace than she cared for, as hurrying anything – washing herself or washing a mug, coming to the garage – required energy she didn’t have. Breathlessly, as if she’d run at speed to answer it, she said hello.

  ‘Tess,’ Stella said. Saying her name made it sound as if Stella was breathless too. Maybe she had run to make this call or else it was the difficulty of making it that caused her to lose breath. ‘How are you? Oh, don’t answer that. That was a stupid question to even ask. You must be feeling utterly overwhelmed. I’m so sorry about what happened to you yesterday. And I know, of course, you were only trying to help. But God love you, Tess, what on earth possessed you to pick up a pair of scissors and cut a vascular suture? Without permission? Without even having done the course?’

  ‘How is he, Stella?’

  Stella inhaled deeply. ‘They’ve still got him on ITU. I don’t know any more than that.’