The Optician's Wife (12 page)

On Sunday morning, despite yet another disrupted night with Robbie and Sue-Ann, who seemed to take it in turns waking me up, I sat in the kitchen smiling to myself. I’d had a lovely afternoon with Trisha. She could talk the hind legs off a donkey but she had a way of picking you up and carrying you along with her. Her bubbly personality was infectious and I would have defied anyone not to succumb to her charms. In that way she was a bit like Larry. People liked her, even if they didn’t want to.

We’d sat for hours in the garden enjoying the warm summer weather while she wittered on about her latest fella.

By the end of the afternoon I could have told you his inside leg measurement. I learnt more than I ever wanted to know about Andrew, an estate agent she’d met in a bar one night. She told me he drove a flash car, a Mercedes no less, and that had sealed the deal for her. I was shocked when she said she slept with him only hours after their first meeting. But she explained she got carried away when he offered her a lift home in his soft-top. They did it in the back seat. Any girl would have done the same, she said.

I was taken aback by how prudish I felt talking about sex with her. Larry and I had done some wild stuff in private and he’d taught me everything I knew. My eyes were well and truly open, but that was something private. Something we kept behind closed doors. It shouldn’t be discussed over tea alongside celeb gossip.

Larry was upstairs in our room still snoring in bed. He must have come home after I’d gone to bed. I didn’t remember saying hello or goodnight to him. Whenever I woke up I couldn’t get out of our bedroom quick enough. It was so sparse. Against the wall facing the windows that looked out over the street below we laid the mattress on the floor. Our clothes and other random belongings were stuffed into the built in cupboards. Cardboard boxes, still not unpacked, were piled high against the wall on the left. I had no idea what was in them and didn’t care. Everything we needed, we had. It was basic but the set up worked and I wondered if it was worth filling the house with expensive furniture just because that was the status quo.

Even so, I wanted to go back to work. I missed the company. Woolworths had not been the most exciting environment to spend time in, but it beat staying at home and waiting for one of the children to demand something.

Years later it was clear I had been suffering from post-natal depression but back then it wasn’t talked about so openly. Nothing was.

Larry suddenly appeared in the doorway, wearing his boxer shorts and nothing else. In one of his tanned muscular arms he held Sue-Ann who was wiping the sleep out of her eyes. He looked like a pin-up and I had to catch my breath. How did I get that lucky? He yawned and stretched with his free arm, the muscles in his hair-scattered chest flexing. His arms were a deep brown colour and stood out next to the pale white of his torso.

‘Morning.’ He wandered over to the fridge and opened the door. I got up, went over and kissed his bare back while he hunted for something to eat. ‘Here, take this will you?’ Larry passed me the baby.

‘How about some eggs?’ I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to look less dishevelled.

‘Why not.’ He pushed the fridge door closed and sat down in the only other chair we had around our melamine table. Nothing matched, and for a moment that seemed to poignantly reflect our relationship. ‘Did you have any luck yesterday?’ I was referring to the fishing expedition.

‘Some you win.’ He scratched at the five o’clock shadow around his chin. For as long as I had known him, Larry had always been clean-shaven. I stood by the stove for a moment looking at the man I’d married, the father of my children and wondered when he’d changed. I still loved him but things felt different.

‘The eggs?’ The frustration in his tone interrupted my train of thought and I went back to whisking.

‘Did you hear that there was another body found in the river?’ We’d been silent for too long and I was desperate to break the tension.

‘Really.’ He chewed his toast and feigned interest.

‘A few days ago, some poor girl was found. The postman told me.’

‘The postman?’ Suddenly Larry’s interest was aroused.

‘Oh yes, you know,’ I tripped over my words, ‘I bumped into him on the doorstep.’

‘I see.’ Larry sat glaring at me. ‘When was this?’

‘I told you, a few days ago,’ I watched Sue-Ann scrabble about on the floor near his feet. My heart was in my mouth but I didn’t know why.

She stood up using the table leg as a prop and made a grab for her father’s thigh. I watched in slow motion as her filthy hand gripped his fine leg hair and pulled.

Without thinking Larry turned and slapped her hard across her cheek with the back of his hand. For a moment she was too shocked to cry. Then the tears came. Accompanied by a scream.

‘Get her out of here.’ He growled, watching the tears stream down her face, unmoved.

Adrenaline rushed through my veins and without thinking I did what I was told. I picked Sue-Ann up roughly and carried her upstairs. Not thinking, I put her down in the same cot Robbie was sleeping in and returned downstairs.

Larry was still sitting at the kitchen table. The fruit bowl was now in a pile on the floor. I bent down avoiding his eyes and started to collect the shattered pieces of crockery.

‘Sit the fuck down.’

I’d cut my finger on a serrated edge of china but did what I was told. The warm red blood dripped on to the floor, creating a trail. It made me think of Hansel and Gretel.

‘I love you Dee,’ his voice was deep and serious, ’but if you ever speak to another man again without my permission I will put my hands around your throat and squeeze until the last breath has left your worthless body.’

My hands were shaking uncontrollably.

‘Do you understand me?’ It seemed as if the windowpane shook. His anger was tangible.

‘Yes, my lord.’ I looked up, meeting his dark stare and couldn’t keep the smile from my face.

Larry stood up, the chair he had been sitting on slid backwards screeching against the tiles, and his large frame dominated the room. Stepping forward he grabbed me violently by the wrist and pulled me out of my chair.

‘Upstairs. Now.’ He whispered in my ear before biting down on my neck.

Twenty minutes later we were lying upstairs on the mattress, spent. His chest rose and fell with each exaggerated breath. His penis lay flaccid and moist.

‘I’m going to go back to Woolworths.’ I turned on to my stomach, cushioned by the rolls of fat and let the air dance around my bare bottom. ‘I want to help bring some money in. You have too much on your shoulders. It’s not right.’

‘No.’ Larry turned on to his side and propped his head up with his elbow. ‘You are my wife and I say no.’

‘Why not?’ It’s fair to say it was not the response I was expecting.

‘I am the man.’ He scratched his testicles with his thumbnail.

‘Yes but…’ my protest fell on deaf ears and I stopped before finishing the sentence.

‘No but. Your place is here with the children. Not working beside that hussy Trisha.’

I wanted to disagree but couldn’t find my voice.

‘You know what it’s like growing up without a mother around. Do you really want that for our children?’ He was making sense. ‘Think how different your life would have been if she’d been around. No. I won’t have it.’ He had put his foot down and that was that. He knew best and I wasn’t going to argue. I trusted his judgement.

I nodded and rested my head on his chest. I could smell the faint whiff from his armpit. Sweat mingled with sex. I slid my hand down his stomach towards his tired penis.

‘Not now.’ He swatted my hand away. ‘I’m cross.’

I rolled over and looked up at the ceiling searching for answers. All I saw were swirls of plaster. Disappointment took over again.

‘Clean yourself up and go and check on the kids.’ He didn’t look at me. ‘And I suggest you call Trisha. Tell her you won’t be going back to Woolworths.’

I sat up, the springs from the mattress sticking into my bottom, and looked at him. Larry pulled the poly-cotton sheet up to cover his man parts. His eyes were firmly closed.

‘But why?’ Trisha pleaded down the line. ‘You seemed so keen earlier.’

‘I know, but I’ve talked to Larry,’

‘Oh here we go,’ she interrupted. I was taken back.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Every time he says jump, you say how high. It’s always the same Debs. I don’t get it.’ She did nothing to hide her frustration.

‘That’s not true.’

‘Yes it is.’ She paused while she ordered her thoughts. ‘If Andrew ever told me what to do I’d end it. Honest, I would. No one gets to tell me what to do.’ I wondered if this was more about her than it was about me. ‘Look, I like Larry, he’s a great guy but you should not let him dictate. That’s all I’m saying.’

‘I’m not sure you are in a position to judge.’ I knew it was inflammatory but couldn’t help myself.

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Her defences had shot up.

‘It’s all very well for you with your easy life. Passing judgement. We’re not all like you, you know. You sit there handing out advice. What do you know about my life? What do you know about anything?’ I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been so confrontational. I liked it. It felt good.

‘If you want to be a Stepford wife, be my guest. But don’t expect me to like it or keep my mouth shut. I thought you were better than that. You are better than that.’ Her compliment was lost in the moment.

‘Go and suck a dick.’ I had no idea where the words came from. It didn’t sound like me.

‘What did you just say?’ Her shock echoed down the phone.

‘You heard me. Go. And. Suck. A. Dick. Find some scumbag with a nice car to blow and keep your opinions to yourself.’

Before she had a chance to respond I had slammed the phone down. For the second time that day I was shaking. And for the second time that day I felt more alive than I had done for ages.

Christmas was just around the corner. The weather was cold and it was getting dark earlier and earlier. I hated that time of year. Christmas meant presents and presents meant money; Money that we didn’t have.

Over the past few months we managed to make the house a bit more comfortable. Larry brought back bits of random furniture that he found or Eric offered him. He could be so thrifty. Nothing matched but I stopped caring about appearances. We rarely had anyone over to the house anyway.

Robbie was crawling and Sue-Ann had begun to be able to put words together. She was a slow developer – much like I had been, according to Dad. ‘Daft as a brush,’ he always used to say to me. He said it so many times I believed it was true. Only after I met Larry and got away from him did I realise my own potential. I wasn’t as hopeless as I’d been taught I was. Larry helped me to see that.

I left the children playing on the floor in the kitchen and went into the lounge.

A few weeks earlier Larry came home with a surprise. It was a television he’d bought on credit from a shop in town. He was so generous and I admired that about him. It was a really modern one that looked expensive. The large set sat pride of place in the lounge. Until then I’d read books to pass the time while I waited for him to get back from work. Having a television to watch felt like luxury. Every spare penny we had was used to make the mortgage payments and I worried we wouldn’t be able to afford the television as well, but Larry assured me it wasn’t a problem. ‘I’ll take care of everything,’ he used to say and I believed him.

My favourite programmes were
Blockbusters
and
Blankety Blank
. I still read a lot but I liked the noise of the television. It made me feel less alone and helped to block out the sounds the children made.

I sat staring at the set, not really taking in what was on, and replayed a conversation I’d had about Christmas with Larry. I’d suggested we had Dad and Dawn over for lunch on Christmas Day. We never saw each other and rarely spoke on the phone. I had this cosy idea of the family all sitting round together, even if we didn’t always all get on.

We had a proper house at last, the kind of house that people did gather in to celebrate. I liked the idea of being able to host them. To show them both that I wasn’t a failure and that I’d made something of myself.

‘It’s a nice idea, Dee,’ Larry scratched the back of his neck with his dirty fingernails, ‘but the food will be expensive. And you don’t want to have the hassle of all that cleaning up afterwards.’

He was right, of course, but I was still a bit disappointed.

‘Do you think we’ll be able to get a tree?’

‘Sure.’ He cupped my chubby face in his hands. ‘Eric has got some he’s selling to make a few extra quid. I’ll get him to give us one at a discount.’

That made me happy. We didn’t have decorations but it didn’t matter. I could make some. It would be something to do. I was good at recycling stuff.

I started to collect jar lids to turn into ornaments I could hang from the branches. We didn’t drink alcohol very often but when we did I would save the corks from wine bottles and bottle caps. I dipped them in glue and glitter. They would look pretty on the tree. I used clothes that the children had grown out of to sew little stockings with and put them around the small fireplace. I wanted that Christmas to be special for us.

Although I loved our home I couldn’t help but feel we were living beyond our means and the onset of Christmas only solidified my fears.

When Larry came home after work he was fuming. I’d never seen him so angry.

‘That bastard,’ he shoved a chair across the kitchen floor before kicking a cupboard.

‘What’s wrong?’ I wiped yoghurt from Robbie’s face. His little blue eyes were wide and watching the tirade cautiously.

‘Bloody John Boyle. Who does he think he is? Marching into Rook’s and demanding money from me. If old Mr Rook hadn’t been there I would have punched his lights out.’