The Optician's Wife (14 page)

Next came the maid of honour. Her long blonde hair was piled high on her head in tight curls. She smiled lovingly as she floated past the people on either side, her pale blue taffeta dress swishing as she went. Larry couldn’t take his eyes off her and I found it hard to contain the rage I felt seething away inside. Did he have to be so bloody obvious?

Once the pretty blonde, whose name I still wasn’t sure of, took her seat, Dawn appeared with Dad. I noticed he was wearing a tie. Someone had plucked one from somewhere. Dawn looked like a great big meringue. The dress did something very unflattering to her figure. It emphasised her ungainly bump and made her body look out of proportion. A large stiff veil covered most of her face. Despite the absurd dress she was glowing and she looked happy. It made me think of my own wedding day, which had been an altogether different affair and I felt a tinge of jealousy. Why did she get the big white dress and the fairy-tale ending? Dad didn’t even bother to walk me up the aisle.

After the ceremony, which seemed to go on forever – I suppose that’s Catholicism for you – we all made our way to the reception in a nearby hall.

Upon entering the room, which reminded me of a school sports hall, our eyes were met by three long tables already laid out. There were more balloons than I’d ever seen; Bunches of pink and white helium hearts tied to many of the chairs. It looked more like a little girl’s birthday party than an adult affair.

Larry followed me into the room. Robbie was sitting on his shoulders eating a chocolate bar someone had given him. His hands and new white shirt were both filthy. Sue-Ann was nowhere to be seen. The maid of honour, whose name I’d learnt was Becky, had taken her under her wing, which I was very grateful for. That meant I could relax and have a few drinks. Larry and I had insisted on paying for some cava to welcome the guests with. It was our wedding present to Dawn and Ian and my way of showing them I’d come up in the world. A few gawky teenagers stood looking awkward holding trays of the bubbly and in the corner of the room was a DJ with his decks.

After a few glasses I started to relax. I didn’t care that I didn’t really know many people. I was proud to be out showing off my husband who always attracted the attention of other women.

At one o’clock we were all seated. There was no seating plan thankfully so we just sat where we wanted. Larry was on my left and for a few minutes the seat on my right remained unoccupied. I chatted happily to a woman sitting opposite me. It turned out she was the groom’s aunt. She was a brash woman wearing an equally loud floral pattern dress that only exacerbated her size. She was clearly rather drunk and it amused me. She chewed my ear off, telling me what a lovely little boy Ian had been, slurring her words and continuing to take large sips from her glass. I didn’t notice the man who took up the empty seat next me since I was so absorbed in the comical conversation with the aunt.

The same school leavers who’d served us drinks then appeared carrying plates they placed down in front of each of us with little care. I looked down at the chicken Kiev, mashed potatoes and peas. The smell of garlic was overpowering and I thought it an odd choice for a wedding lunch.

Just as I picked up my knife and folk, and was deciding how best to tackle the large piece of breaded chicken, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to my right and stared at the man touching me.

‘Hello, Dee.’ He smiled, showing his nicotine-stained teeth. I knew him well.

‘Mark.’ I removed his hand and swallowed, not knowing where to look. ‘What are you doing here?’

By then Larry had stopped talking to the old boy next to him and was paying attention to our conversation. I felt his hand on my knee.

‘Mark, lovely to see you.’ Larry cut in extending a hand and doing his best to defuse the tension.

‘Lovely indeed.’ Mark sat back in his chair and grinned with pleasure. He was enjoying himself.

‘So, tell me, how do you know the lovely couple?’

‘Groom is my brother.’ Mark continued smiling at me knowingly.

‘Small world,’ Larry was determined to play it cool, ‘the bride is my sister-in-law.’

‘Is that so?’ Mark raised an eyebrow before picking up his fork and stabbing the food. ‘Small world indeed.’

‘How do you know each other?’ The drunken aunt opposite asked, her headpiece slipping down over one eye.

‘Met at the pub, didn’t we Mark.’ Larry was quick to answer.

‘Yes,’ Mark couldn’t help chuckling, ‘the pub. That was it.’ He was lording it over us and it made me feel sick to my stomach.

Up until Mark’s appearance I had been having fun but the moment he sat down next to me that all changed.

I’d met him six months earlier when he came over to the house. He was one of my regular clients. Sitting there next to him at my sister’s wedding made me feel sick. What if he said something? What if everyone found out what I did to make money? It didn’t bear thinking about.

After the meal was over and the speeches had been made Larry and I made our excuses and left. I’d been on edge ever since seeing Mark and was desperate to get away. We gave the excuse that the children were tired and said our goodbyes. I practically had to drag Sue-Ann away from the dance floor by her hair. The little sod was refusing to leave and causing a scene.

‘Don’t worry, he won’t say a thing.’ Larry said getting into the car.

‘Oh, I know he won’t. He wouldn’t want anyone knowing his dirty little secret.’

‘So what’s upset you, then?’ He started the engine and I realised he was way over the limit.

‘Just took me by surprise, that’s all. I didn’t expect to bump into someone like that, especially at my sister’s wedding. Not exactly ideal.’

‘Don’t worry. Just keep doing what you’re doing and leave that little worm, Mark, to me.’ His hands gripped the wheel and his knuckles were white. I didn’t know what he meant so just stayed quiet and watched the world go by out of the window. It had been a strange day.

On Tuesday morning I’d just got back from dropping Sue-Ann at nursery when there was a knock on the door. Leaving Robbie strapped in his pushchair I went to answer the door.

‘Hello Dee.’ Mark stood on the doorstep leaning against the frame smiling smugly.

‘What are you doing here? You know my hours are evenings and weekends only.’ I started to close the door but before I had a chance he’d shoved his foot in and started to barge his way into the house.

‘Don’t be like that, Dee. I just wanted to come and say hello.’ He was a strong man with large shoulders and big feet. He wore Nike trainers that had seen better days and his work jeans were covered in dust. ‘Aren’t you going to offer me a cup of tea?’ He leant against the hallway wall.

I looked down at Robbie who was chattering happily in his pushchair unaware of the threatening atmosphere that charged the air.

‘One cup and then you’re gone.’ I wheeled Robbie into the kitchen with us, hoping that Mark wouldn’t do anything unpleasant if there was a child in the room. ‘How do you like it?’ I asked through gritted teeth as I filled the kettle.

‘Sweet and wet.’ His smirk was vile.

We stood not speaking while the kettle took its time to boil. His dirty green eyes didn’t leave me for a second. I felt uncomfortable under his gaze and looked down at the tiled floor noticing the muddy footprints he had walked in.

‘Larry at work, is he?’ Mark already knew the answer so I didn’t bother to answer and poured the tea.

‘Here.’ I considered throwing the boiling liquid in his face before handing him the mug.

‘Lovely.’ He took a sip and let out a satisfied sigh. ‘Now, you and me have got some business.’ Mark pulled up a chair and sat down, making himself at home.

‘I told you. Evenings and weekends only.’ I held my nerve.

‘Now, now, that’s not very polite. We are basically family now.’ He reached out a hand and pulled the pushchair towards him. ‘Sweet little fella. What’s his name?’

‘None of your business.’ I growled. ‘Get your hands off my son. You’ve had your tea and now leave.’

‘Oh Dee. I’m disappointed. I know you’re not much to look at but I thought you had some brains.’

‘Get out.’

‘No.’ He stood up and his large frame overshadowed me. ‘Do you want your sister knowing what you do to pay the bills?’

‘You don’t have the guts.’ I spat. ‘Everyone would know you pay for it. Your dear old mum would be mortified.’

‘My dear old mum can go to hell.’ Mark grabbed me tightly around the throat and brought his face within inches of mine. ‘And that’s where I send you if you don’t remember your fucking manners.’ He continued to squeeze hard before pushing me away and letting go. I fell backwards choking and trying to catch my breath.

‘What do you want?’

‘I want a freebie.’ He grabbed his crotch. ‘No, actually, I want lots of freebies.’

‘Larry will never agree to it.’ I rubbed my throat and tried not to look at Robbie who was sitting silently terrified and watching Mark.

‘Larry isn’t go to know.’ Mark stepped forward and undid his trousers. ‘In here or upstairs, it’s up to you.’

‘Not in front of my boy.’ My eyes filled with tears and my voice was cracking.

Mark left an hour later, promising to return at the same time next week. I quickly stripped the bed of the bloody sheets and took them to the bins outside. My groin was sore and so was my throat.

Robbie had fallen asleep in his pushchair and I sat down at the kitchen table and wept.

PART 2

‘That’s all well and good Mrs Miller but it’s what happened afterwards that interests us.’ The detective adjusted his navy blue tie and sat back in his chair.

The interview room felt stuffy. I’d been in there for so long and answered so many questions.

‘I don’t know what you want me to say?’ I pleaded holding my hands out. My solicitor, Carol Winter-Bottom, sat next to me writing down notes.

‘We want to know how you were involved in the murder of Mr Mark McCarthy. Just tell us what happened.’

‘I don’t know. How many times do I have to keep saying it? I. Don’t. Know.’

‘My client has already told you she had nothing to do with Mr McCarthy’s death. Either charge her or release her.’

‘Let’s go back to that day again,’ the detective leant forward and rested his elbows on the desk between us, ‘you have confirmed that you saw the victim that morning.’

‘Yes.’ I was so tired of answering the same question.

‘And you have confirmed that you had sexual relations with the victim.’

‘Yes I did. But then he left and that was the last time I saw him.’ I folded my arms and looked at the man opposite.

Detective Sergeant Dan Small was an average-looking man with brown hair that was going grey at the temples and steely grey eyes. He looked more like a pencil pusher than a policeman. I suppose the two were not mutually exclusive.

‘So despite the fact you allege he raped you and then disappeared into thin air, the discovery of his body, buried in your garden, is a mere coincidence and has nothing to do with you?’

‘There is no need for sarcasm, detective sergeant.’ Carol peered over her glasses at him with her dark blue eyes.

‘That’s right. I don’t know how he got there. I didn’t put him there.’

‘Well somebody did, Mrs Miller, and it’s my job to bring that person to justice.’

I rolled my eyes and turned to Carol.

‘I want a break. I want to get some fresh air.’

‘You heard my client.’ Carol put her pen down and sat up straight in her chair.

DS Small and the assisting officer looked at each other and shrugged. They were tired too. It had been a very long day.

‘Interview terminated at twenty-three o seven.’

The detective and other policeman left the room and again I was alone with Carol.

‘You’re doing fine, Deborah. Just stick to the facts.’ She ordered her papers in front of her.

‘This is ridiculous. I want to talk to my husband.’

‘I’m afraid that’s not possible at the moment.’

‘How much longer?’ I slumped in my chair and rested my forehead on the edge of the table. ‘It’s been nearly two days now.’

‘It’s a very serious charge, Mrs Miller.’ Carol had a way of delivering every sentence as if she was in court. ‘You can be detained for up to ninety-six hours before they have to charge or release you.’

‘Either they have the evidence or they don’t. They found the body. What more do they need?’

‘The pathologist will be gathering forensic evidence. Until all the results come through I’m afraid it’s a waiting game.’

‘Well, I’m as shocked as the next person. He was a scumbag, but I didn’t want him dead and I certainly didn’t kill him.’

‘Then there won’t be any evidence and you will be released.’ She looked at me through her glasses and didn’t waver from the formal tone she’d taken with the police.

‘Larry, when can I speak to Larry? How can I find out what’s going on?’

‘I’ll go and get us a something to drink and ask. Since I’m not his solicitor they are not at liberty to disclose anything to me, but I can try.’ Carol stood up and straightened her grey trouser suit. Her dyed blonde hair was tied back in a bun.

‘I want to go out for a ciggy.’ My frustration was tangible.

‘I’ll tell the officer on duty.’ Carol tucked her leather-bound file under her arm and led me out of the room towards the custody desk.

I was allowed out into a secure courtyard for a smoke and then I was told that the interview would continue later and I was returned to my cell.

I went and sat on the plastic green mattress opposite the door and listened to the sound of the lock being turned in the large metal door. A pair of eyes peered through the small glass window before the shutter was pulled down. I sat alone in the small room wondering what was going to happen to me. The silence was unbearable. For a little while I paced backwards and forwards, replaying the events from April 1989 over in my mind. It was so long ago and my memory was foggy. Did they really expect me to be able to remember that far back? I didn’t want to say anything that might implicate Larry but I needed them to know I had nothing to do with it. It didn’t look good. The body of a man who raped me was buried in our garden.