Read The Optician's Wife Online

Authors: Betsy Reavley

The Optician's Wife (16 page)

‘Congratulations,’ Dr Ling offered as an after-thought without taking his eyes of the screen.

Not knowing how to react I stood up and followed Larry out of the room.

We sat silently in the car on the drive back to the house. My mood was pensive. The visit to the doctor brought the reality of my situation crashing down around me.

After what had happened with Mark all those months before I had contracted an STD. I took a course of antibiotics and Larry made me promise that from then on I’d always use protection. And most of the time I did. Most of the time.

There had been one or two occasions, both about three months ago, when a punter who was a regular paid me extra not to use it. I knew him well enough. He’d been coming to me for months. He was a sad little man whose wife refused to sleep with him since discovering he had an unhealthy obsession with pornography that featured teenage girls. He told me he never slept with anyone but his wife and I had no reason not to believe him. It was funny the things that punters confided in me. I was as much a counsellor as anything else.

Thinking back, I realised it would have been around that time that I last remembered having a period. Sitting in the car next to Larry I tried to push the feeling of dread away. There was a chance the baby I was carrying wasn’t his. How could I possibly tell him? I couldn’t and I wouldn’t. If he ever found out, then I could put it down to an accident. Condoms split sometimes. Mistakes happened.

‘I think you should take a break for a while.’ Larry’s words broke the silence.

‘A break from what?’

‘From working.’ He kept his eyes on the road. ‘We’ve got enough money coming in now and a decent amount saved. It might not be good for the baby if you carry on doing that.’

‘I suppose you are right.’ It had occurred to me. It wasn’t as if I particularly liked my line of work but it paid well and gave me a bit of independence. I hated relying on Larry to pay for everything. My heart sank when I realised I would be going back to be dependent on him.

‘My deal with Eric is bringing in lots of cash. Take a break for a while. You can always go back to it later after it’s born.’

‘I can’t imagine many people like the idea of sleeping with a pregnant woman anyway,’ I mused.

‘You’d be surprised,’ Larry chuckled to himself, shaking his head, ‘there’s a whole world of freaks out there.’

We got home and relieved Alice of her babysitting. Larry gave her some cash and showed her out. The way she used to look at him made me suspect she had a crush.

‘Right kids. Mum and Dad have some news.’ Larry stood over the children who were gazing at the television and not listening. ‘You are going to have a little brother or sister.’

Sue-Ann who was very nearly five turned around and looked at him. I stood by the door watching the conversation unfold.

‘Why?’

‘Because that’s what mums and dads do. They have children. Won’t it be nice?’ He bent down and ruffled her hair.

She looked at him and thought about it for a moment. ‘Babies cry.’ She looked over at Robbie who was still transfixed by the cartoons on the television. ‘You get cross when we cry. Will you get cross with the baby?’

‘Of course we won’t.’ Larry stood up again and took a step backwards. ‘Just watch the TV. Your mum will give you dinner soon. Then it’s bed.’

I left the kids in the lounge and Larry followed me into the kitchen.

‘She’s right you know.’ I went over to the fridge and got Larry a beer. ‘It’s not easy having another baby. Are you sure you want to do this?’ I was really hoping he might change his mind.

‘Another little Miller, it will be great. I always wanted a big family. Why stop there?’ He sipped the beer thoughtfully.

‘Are you serious?’ I spun around.

‘Why not?’ Something odd had come over him. He’d never mentioned wanting a large family before. What had changed? I wanted to ask him, but thought better of it.

‘Kids are having beans for dinner. Pizza for us tonight?’ I picked up a takeaway menu that was shoved into one of the drawers.

‘Sure. We are celebrating.’

I stared at the list of pizza toppings and didn’t say a word.

‘I hope it’s a girl.’ Larry drained the contents of his beer can and put it to one side. ‘Let’s find out when we go to the scan.’

I nodded.

‘And if it is a girl I think we should call her Paula. I like that name.’

‘But what if it’s a boy?’ I didn’t want him to be disappointed.

‘Owen.’

‘That’s nice. Little Owen Miller.’ I put my hand on my belly and felt a wave of maternal love for the first time since I’d discovered I was expecting. Perhaps this baby would be a positive thing. After all it made Larry happy and that was good enough for me.

 

January 22
nd
1998

 

 

That morning I had returned from Cambridge Magistrates’ Court. I’d been taken in a police van and hauled up in front of a judge. The police wanted a warrant extended for further detention. The judge granted the warrant and I was returned to the police station where the interview continued.

‘No comment.’ I was so tired of repeating the same two words over and over again.

DS Small sat back in his chair, loosened his tie and rubbed his chin on which a five o’clock shadow had appeared over the few days since I’d been in custody. It seems he’d not had much time to himself either.

‘You aren’t helping yourself by staying quiet.’ He looked at me deciding to try another tack. ‘If you know anything you are better off cooperating. The judge will take that into consideration when sentencing.’

I looked over at Carol, who had dark rings under her eyes where her mascara had smudged over the course of the long day. She nodded wearily.

‘No comment.’

‘Interview suspended at,’ DS Small looked up at the clock on the wall, ‘zero nine forty-three.’ He stood up and turned to DS Martin. ‘I need a coffee.’ The policemen left the room and I was alone again with Carol.

‘When can I speak to Larry?’ I turned to her. She took her black jacket off the back of her chair, stood and slipped it on.

‘You can’t. It’s that simple.’ She was tired of talking.

‘Then I’m not cooperating. Simple.’ I sat in the chair, aware I had been wearing the same clothes for a number of days. I felt dirty.

‘That’s up to you Mrs Miller. As your solicitor I strongly advise you rethink your position.’

‘But I haven’t done anything.’

‘It is information that they want from you now, not a confession. If you know anything it would be wise to share it.

‘You want me to admit I know things when I don’t. That doesn’t make any sense. How is that going to help anyone?’

Carol stood looking at me with both pity and frustration.

‘It’s been a long day, but this hasn’t even begun yet.’

‘And my kids?’

‘They have been taken into care, Mrs Miller. And they will remain there until the police get the information they are after.’ Her dark blue eyes looked at me coldly. She thought I was guilty. I could see it in her eyes.

‘You are meant to be on my side.’

‘I am,’ she sighed. ‘It’s my job to advise you. What you do with that advice is up to you.’

‘If you don’t believe me what hope do I have?’ I couldn’t help feeling sorry for myself. No one thought I was innocent. ‘I’m not a monster.’

Carol put her hand on my shoulder and patted it before leaving the room. A young chubby officer appeared and escorted me back to my cell.

‘Can I get some breakfast?’ I asked before he closed the heavy door behind me.

‘I’ll find out.’ He couldn’t look at me. The revolt he held was palpable.

‘Make sure you do!’ I called through the locked door between us. ‘I have my rights.’

I slumped down on the same uncomfortable plastic mattress and closed my eyes. When would this nightmare be over?

 

I was woken an hour or so later when the door of my cell opened with a bang. Sitting up and rubbing my tired eyes I saw DS Small standing there.

‘Your husband has just confessed to the murder of Mark McCarthy. He says you had nothing to do with it.’ DS Small’s eyes were scrutinising me.

‘Can I go home now?’ I stood up expectantly. ‘I want to be with my kids.’

‘We’ll arrange for you to be bailed.’ He wasn’t happy about it.

There was a long uncomfortable silence while we both stood looking at each other. He didn’t like me that was clear, but more than that he didn’t trust me. I did my best not to crumple under his gaze.

‘Is that it then?’

‘For now Mrs Miller.’ He turned to leave and then stopped. ‘You must be very distraught at this time. You have my sympathies.’ He glanced at me, the sarcasm dripping from his words.

‘I’m devastated.’ I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at the floor of the cell.

‘He’ll be locked up for a long, long time.’ DS Small added enjoying his victory.

‘Anything he did, he did for me.’ I realised what I’d said too late.

‘So you did know?’ DS Small was quick to react.

‘No, that’s not what I’m saying. You’re twisting my words.’ Suddenly I was flustered and he was in charge.

‘The truth doesn’t stay buried forever.’

I noticed the discolouring of the fabric of his shirt near his armpits and smirked. He had no idea.

‘Something funny?’ His eyes were burning with anger.

‘No. Not a thing.’

‘Good, because if my wife had just confessed to murder I wouldn’t be smiling.’ With that the grin fell from my face. He was right.

‘I don’t know how to react, that’s all.’ I felt myself becoming defensive.

‘We will arrange a time for you to come back and give a statement.’

‘I’m not stitching up my husband if that’s what you’re thinking.’

‘About the rape, Mrs Miller.’

‘Oh. Fine.’

I couldn’t understand why he was still standing there. I wanted him to leave and I wanted to get the hell out of that place. I’d already spent too much time in that cell. ‘Is that everything?’ I could hide my impatience.

‘For now, Mrs Miller.’ My shoulders dropped. ‘Oh, one last thing,’ he was playing with me and I felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web. ‘Do you know the whereabouts of your sister, Dawn McCarthy?’

‘No. Why?’

‘We spoke to her husband, and the brother of the man your husband murdered. He says he hasn’t seen her for years. You don’t know where she is?’

‘No. We’re not very close.’

‘It’s strange. No one seems to know where she is. It’s as if she just disappeared.’

 

I was escorted home in a police car. At the end of our street a few local reporters had gathered and I was grateful that a police presence guarded the house from the media. I was told that an officer would be there at all times to protect my family and the equipment that would be delivered to the site.

Ignoring their questions and the flashing from their cameras I went inside and closed the door. I’d been told that the children would be returned to my care later that day. For now, I was alone.

Leaving the hallway, I took myself into the kitchen. From the window I could see the tent that had been set up in the garden. A few people wearing white suits were carrying out forensic examinations of the site. A small digger was removing vast amounts of dirt and rubble. I didn’t understand what they were looking for. They had already found Mark. DS Small’s mention of Dawn flittered through my head.

Pushing the grim thought away I poured myself a large glass of water and tried to steady myself. My hands shook. I couldn’t believe I was free. The last few days had been so intense and it had culminated in Larry confessing to murder. I couldn’t fathom why he did it. None of it made any sense. He had always protected me and always promised he would. But this was so much more than I had ever imagined. Murder.

I watched as they removed the topsoil using the machine and then began searching the area underneath by hand. Rain continued to hamper the search and threatened to flood the hole. One of the officers told me that a Home Office pathologist was at the site and I wondered if I was meant to be impressed.

Trying not to think about it any longer I went and ran myself a bath. Soon the children would be home and I had to get on with daily life. They needed to be fed and put to bed and that was what I focused on. One thing at a time, I told myself. Concentrate on what you can control and forget about the rest of it for now.

I took off my purple jumper and jeans and dropped them on to the bathroom floor. The steam rose from the tap and filled the room. I already felt better just being out of those clothes. Next I unclipped my bra and slid my pants down. I sat on the edge of the bath balancing, naked aware that only a few feet away was an open grave.

For the first time since the whole mess had begun I thought about Ian McCarthy and wondered if nastiness ran through families. His brother had been a piece of work and it turned out he wasn’t much better. Looking back over the years at the turbulent marriage of Ian and Dawn I wondered how different things would have been if they had never married. It all seemed to stem back to them. Everything.

I lifted my heavy frame down into the water and let my troubles soak away. My legs were covered in stubble and took time and care shaving them with a razor. If I could just clean myself and make myself a little bit more presentable then things would be better, if only on the outside. But it was a start.

After washing my hair, I got out the bath and towel dried myself. The white tiles on the bathroom floor were cold on my feet. Wrapping the beige towel around my body I took myself upstairs to get dressed. The house had never been so quiet and it felt horrible. Suddenly the place was filled with ghosts. I stood looking in at the boys’ bedroom. They had bunk beds. The room was a mess. They were due home soon and I wondered what I’d say to them. They would be full of questions. How much should I say?

The idea of having to answer any more questions left me feeling exhausted. But they were Larry’s kids too and they deserved to know what was going on, even if I didn’t fully understand it myself. The press outside would soon be printing things about us. Lies. It was important that the kids heard it from me.

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