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

by Liz Lawler

  The evening progressed, the food was good, and Vivien delighted in bringing out one course after the other, with an aproned young woman in tow.

  ‘This lovely young woman lives in the village and helps out,’ was the only introduction she gave of someone clearly doing most of the work.

  ‘I hear you’re a theatre nurse?’ Anne now said.

  ‘Yes,’ Tess answered quietly, not wishing to draw others into their conversation. Nor tell this woman she might not be one anymore. She had short light-brown hair with a few strands of grey running through, and kind grey eyes that seemed to stare right into Tess.

  ‘And just married?’

  Tess nodded. ‘Yes, the third of July. Then two weeks honeymoon, and two weeks after that we moved to Bath.’

  Anne gave a look of sympathy. ‘Crikey, you’ve been busy!’

  Tess smiled as she inhaled. ‘Yes. It’s hard to believe we’ll have been married four months soon. Four months ago we were still living in London. What about you, do you work or have family keeping you busy?’ she asked politely.

  ‘Well, we don’t have children, but we’re fortunate to both have jobs we love. Ed spends a lot of time in the States working with researchers over there; pioneering, I suppose you would call it, developing new methods for less invasive vascular surgery.’ The woman gave a rueful smile. ‘He’d like us to move there, but my job here as a forensic psychologist is not something I just want to pack up and leave. You sound like you were brave.’

  Tess wondered if the sudden zeal of her interest was visible on her face. ‘Gosh, they always make that job look so exciting on TV.’

  Anne smiled. ‘Well I’m no “Fitz” from Cracker, if that’s what you’re imagining, although you’re probably a bit young to remember that programme. He was a chain-smoking alcoholic who was also a genius in criminal psychology, which actually focuses more on profiling perpetrators. In my job I focus on the aftermath of a crime and evaluate the mind and behaviour of the criminal, as well as counsel the victims of crime.’

  ‘You must come across some badly hurt people.’

  ‘Sadly I do.’

  Tess took sips of air, not realising she’d been holding her breath. This woman dealt with victims who probably had things so bad happen to them they needed her to help.

  ‘Do they ever stop?’

  Anne looked at her keenly. ‘You mean the person hurting the victim?’

  ‘Yes,’ Tess said quietly. ‘Do they ever stop?’

  Anne slowly shook her head. ‘Not always. That’s when I get to meet them.’

  Tess stared away, then realised a silence had fallen around the table. Her husband’s eyes were fixed on her and she hoped she hadn’t just lost her trip to London. Vivien broke the spell by entering the room carrying a large chocolate cake with a sparkler on top.

  ‘Dessert is cake, I’m afraid, as it’s Mark’s birthday.’

  Everyone sang ‘Happy Birthday’. Soon after eating the cake, Ed and Anne made motions to leave, explaining that even though it was Saturday tomorrow they had work to do. With a fanfare of goodbyes from host and hostess to all their guests, Tess avoided more hugs by stepping out of the front door. Vivien stopped her in her tracks.

  ‘I must give you my number so we can hook up. Have lunch somewhere. Take you to a little place we took Daniel when he stayed with us.’ Vivien must have seen surprise in her face because she said, ‘Oh, you didn’t know Daniel stayed with us when he came for his interview and then again when he was sorting out buying a house?’ She gave a small laugh. ‘Oh Lord, you must have thought that an odd thing I said earlier then, about him returning.’

  Tess masked her surprise. He hadn’t lived in their house before, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been married before or that the diary she was reading didn’t belong to his first wife. She needed the truth to be told. She needed to know what else he had lied about. Because she was damn sure in all of their dates before being married he’d not owned up to having a first wife. Find her and she could prove what he was really like.

  Daniel gave Vivien a hug and agreed with her. ‘I’ve got your number. I’ll give it to Tess. I doubt it will be next week. My darling wife is heading back to London to sort out the flat.’

  ‘Poor Tess,’ she gushed, her eyes flirting with him. ‘I hope she’s travelling by train, though you should pop her in first class, Daniel. You can hardly ever get a seat crammed in with all those strangers. Dreadful busy things, you don’t know who you could be standing next to. Anything could happen to her!’

  Tess’s eyes darted to Vivien’s face for any hidden meaning, but the woman was busy preening herself in front of Daniel as he complimented her on a good night. She finally glanced at Tess. ‘Do take care of yourself, Tess, and mind out for any strangers.’

  Her words sent a shiver down Tess’s spine. The woman had no idea of what was happening in Tess’s world, no idea Tess had already met a stranger. She met him after she married him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  He didn’t say a word in the back of the taxi for the entire journey home, staring mutely ahead and ignoring the taxi driver’s attempt at conversation. Tess prayed that whatever was going on in his mind, it had nothing to do with her. She waited as he paid the driver as he had the keys to the house. Inside, she quietly placed her bag on the hall chair and put her shoes away in the cloakroom. He’d gone straight to the drawing room and she could hear the clink of crystal as he fixed himself a drink. Tess hesitated, wondering if she should call out a goodnight. She decided against it, decided it was better to let him be and take the opportunity of slipping off to bed.

  She got as far as placing her foot on the first step of the stairs when she was yanked back and then slammed against the hall wall. Her teeth snapped together and bit into her tongue as her head bounced off the wall, filling her mouth with the taste of blood. The cold look in his eyes robbed her breath. He didn’t utter a word as he put his hand around her throat, but simply stared right at her and pinned her still. Spittle formed at the corner of his mouth.

  Then, abruptly, he let go.

  Tess stayed rigid against the wall as he turned off the lights. Then he passed her to climb the stairs and spoke quietly and coldly without looking at her.

  ‘Do not spoil my relationship with Ed Ferris. Do you understand?’

  She stayed standing in the dark as she heard the bedroom door shut. The betrayal of fear had weakened her legs, but still she didn’t move. She stayed quiet, standing and waiting in the dark, praying for him to come back and finish the job. To put her out of this misery permanently.

  When daylight came she stiffly made her way to the downstairs bathroom. She looked at herself in the large mirror on the wall. Slight bruises around her collarbone showed the imprint of his finger and thumb from where he’d held her by the throat. Last night he might have strangled her if she’d struggled. Last night he might have set her free in a way least expected. She could carry on waiting for it to happen or she could find someone who would believe she was innocent of causing this patient’s death.

  She had no proof that she hadn’t caused it. Only her husband knew the truth about that.

  Alone in the dark her memory had allowed her to step through all her actions and all of his, and in her mind’s eye she kept seeing that moment when he tied and she cut the tiny threads. The site had been dry when he closed. Even after he’d released the clamps to test the anastomosis, there was only a tiny trickle of blood, so what had gone wrong? He’d blamed her by saying she cut too short. Clipped the knot with her scissors? Which might have held for a while, if not completely cut through. That is until the blood pressure increased and the vessel burst apart under the pressure. But she hadn’t cut too short. She had seen the length of thread left. So what could have gone wrong?

  He had closed up by himself, inserted drains by himself, as Suzanne had gone by then; Tess was only passing instruments automatically, following instructions automatically. The tension had gone as the difficul
t part was over. Was it possible that in the closing of facia and skin layers, in the removal of retractors, he misjudged a movement of an instrument or his hand, that he accidently caught something, damaged what he had just made perfect?

  Or had he caused something more deliberate to make her lose her job to keep her home? It was a heinous idea, but so too were some of his behaviours of late.

  She trembled at the thought of only him knowing what happened and only him knowing it wasn’t she who caused it. If she went to the police with this – was taken into an interview room and gave a statement – what might happen? Would they investigate? Would her husband be arrested? Doubtful. Even if there was evidence of wrongdoing he’d more likely be questioned and released with no charges against him or against his good character. That would be the reality. It was her word against his, and his was far more powerful, which is probably why he let her take the blame in the first place.

  The sad thing was, she might have offered to take the blame if Daniel was the cause of it happening. If he did something inadvertently. She would have done it to save his career, to show she loved him, and she would have done it for future patients whose lives he would undoubtedly save. But he hadn’t given her that option. He had taken the choice away, thereby destroying her. Letting his lie be her fault. If she hadn’t been there it wouldn’t have happened, he’d said. He had to have something to blame it on.

  She’d nursed a woman once in the emergency theatre who’d been brought in with a fractured jaw after being assaulted by her husband. Tess remembered her blackened swollen eyes and split upper lip, both old and fresh bruising on her thin body, and hearing her crying and saying it was her fault. She was to blame for his behaviour. Believing that after being brainwashed by him.

  Do they ever stop? she had asked Anne last night, and Anne had given her an honest answer. Not always. What Anne didn’t say was how many of the victims survived, or how many of these violent criminals were locked away because they killed their victims.

  Her husband was a highly intelligent man. He knew right from wrong. What wasn’t clear was whether all of his brain agreed. Whether one part disagreed and was operating against the good part. Evidence had already shown her that something was wrong with his mind, but the question was, how wrong? Was he feeling guilty after what he’d done? Or was he without a guilty conscience and had no problem committing an immoral act? If that was so there was no hope for him.

  She tensed as she came out of the bathroom and heard sounds from the kitchen. He was filling the kettle with water. Settling her hair around her neck to cover the bruising, she joined him. He was dressed and showered, his hair damp, and when he turned and saw her he looked at her with concern.

  ‘You look tired. Did you not go to bed?’

  She reached into a cupboard and took out a small teapot, knowing that he liked to see things done properly and would frown at a teabag in a cup.

  ‘I fell asleep on the sofa,’ she said softly.

  She stiffened when he put a hand on her shoulder and kissed the back of her neck.

  ‘You silly thing. That’s how you get unwell. Not sleeping properly in a bed.’

  Her throat clogged from the strain of having this conversation. Was he suffering from amnesia or just ignoring what happened last night? His behaviour was unfathomable. Tess wished he’d just leave her be and go play golf, if that’s what he was intending. This attempt at showing affection and concern wasn’t working. It was shredding her emotions to pieces. She wished she could hate him completely, could forget what she’d loved and lost, after she saw that look of hatred in his eyes.

  She had deluded herself that there was love in them when they married. He had just acted as if he loved her so she would fall in love with him, by pretending to be someone he wasn’t. His love and kindness had felt so real. Had it all been just a huge pretence, or had his mind unhinged when they moved to this house? Tess didn’t have answers. She just knew the man she fell in love with was gone.

  She willed herself to stand still as his arms wrapped around her and he hugged her against him.

  ‘You looked stunning last night. Vivien should take lessons from you. She should try fawning less. It’s not an attractive quality.’ He kissed her cheek, and then, mocking Vivien’s high-pitched voice, he said, ‘Do take care of yourself, Tess, and mind out for any strangers.’

  When he finally left and the front door closed behind him, Tess wet a teacloth and rubbed her cheek hard. This wasn’t living. She was only alive in the sense that her body was breathing and her heart was beating. Supposing she never cleared her name and this life was now forever? Would she really want to carry on, forever thinking about what he had done? She knew already her answer. She would end it. And the only person she would consider would be Sara.

  She would do it somewhere private where it would look like an accident. Or else Sara would suffer, forever thinking she should have done more or should have stayed. It would be much better to have her think it was an accident. Much kinder, than to think it planned.

  Would he then find another wife who stayed home while he played golf? He may not realise it but it would suit him better if she was gone, because his lies would then be buried.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Tess woke up to find her husband on top of her. He’d climbed the stairs to find her and hadn’t disturbed her coming into the room.

  Last night she’d climbed into this bed, leaving him a note to say she was sleeping in the small bedroom again as she didn’t feel quite well. She hoped when he got back from being out all day playing golf he wouldn’t mind or notice it was the third night in a row she’d not slept in their bed. She heard him grunt as he ejaculated. She kept her face turned to the side as he pulled out of her and stayed quiet as he wiped himself on the top sheet and then got dressed. He zipped up his jeans and pulled his sweatshirt on over his head. Then, leaving the room as if it was empty and she was not lying there, he casually walked out.

  She stared up at the ceiling, her eyes dry, relieved she felt nothing. It was over so quick she hadn’t gone through the trauma of wishing it to end. She contracted her muscles to expel him from her body and felt the wetness between her legs, praying that none of his seed got left behind. Tomorrow was Monday and with him not at home she would ring the GP surgery and get the morning-after pill. As well as a new prescription.

  She swung her legs out of the bed and let gravity finish the work of ridding him from her. In the bath she kneeled in deep water and sluiced herself until the smell of him was gone, and when she was dry she put on clean pants. Downstairs she could hear him in the kitchen sharpening his precious knives. Sharp ringing scrapes of steel against steel hurting her ears.

  He was filleting a large fish when she joined him, cutting along the length of its belly. Surrounding him were several shopping bags from Waitrose. She didn’t think the shops opened early on a Sunday. She swung her gaze to the kitchen clock and was astonished to see it was nearly noon. She’d been in bed since nine o’clock last night.

  He stopped what he was doing and eyed her as if surprised she was home. He gave a rueful smile.

  ‘Short notice I know, but we’ll manage. If you’re able you can help by laying the table. We have a few hours yet so no rush. That blue dress you wore the other night is nice and she won’t judge you wearing it again.’

  Tess poured herself a glass of water and drank slowly. ‘Who’s coming?’ she asked, already knowing.

  ‘Ed and Anne. Just the four of us, so it’ll be nice and relaxed, no high-octave screeching from you-know-who. Though I feel bad not inviting Mark. He’s a nice chap. So tell me,’ he asked a moment later. ‘What’s the sleeping-in-another-bed about?’

  Her lips pressed in concentration, her eyes staring into space. ‘I didn’t want to keep you awake. You know what I’m like when I’m restless. I’d have fidgeted. Got in and out of bed probably, looking for a book to read or fetching a drink. Anyway, I thought it best I slept there.’ She paused. ‘I
wasn’t feeling too good and I thought you might need your sleep.’

  He was quietly chuckling as she finished speaking, and she turned her head in surprise to find him staring at her. ‘It’s kind of cute that you do that, but such a giveaway.’

  ‘What is?’ she asked hesitantly.

  ‘That you give a long laborious explanation to a simple question. To cover the fact that you’re hiding something.’ He picked up the fish and held its face close to his own. ‘Will she ever learn?’ he said in a teasing, chastising tone. He moved the fish’s mouth open and closed to show its response, ‘Never.’ His foolery stopped as he saw her startled eyes. ‘Thing is, Tess, I’m not fond of prevarication.’

  Tess eyed him carefully. It was more than possible her husband suffered from a personality disorder. His behaviour certainly suggested it. How he’d behaved a half-hour ago showed he was emotionally disconnected and he’d looked at her just minutes ago as if surprised she was there. She wondered if he was aware of it, if there was a catalyst that triggered it. Perhaps his mother’s odd reply could have something to do with it – she’d certainly made it sound like that day was significant.

  He started humming and Tess gathered her scattered thoughts. She busied herself with collecting cutlery and glasses and new candles even though it sounded like it was going to be a late lunch affair and not an evening meal. She was concerned about Anne Ferris coming, wishing she hadn’t been so outspoken. The woman was a forensic psychologist. The keen stare she gave her suggested she had seen through Tess’s question. She could be coming here today suspecting Tess of living in an abusive relationship.

  She stopped still at the dining table. She couldn’t afford to have this woman analysing her. She’d been warned by her husband not to spoil his relationship with Ed Ferris. In order to do that she was going to have to put on a good performance and convince the woman she was in a normal loving relationship with a husband that cared. She’d need some of her husband’s acting skills; his were faultless in front of others and left no doubts. Sara had fallen for them hook, line and sinker. She’d thought Tess the luckiest girl in the world. So too would Anne Ferris when she walked out of this house. She would leave believing Tess was happy with her life, and Tess would be better able to cope with Anne not knowing the reality. Tess still needed her husband on board or proof of him being a liar to get out from under the falling axe. Revealing her husband was abusive was no guarantee for a get-out-of-jail-free card. The powers that be might even think she made it up as a defence.