The Optician's Wife (13 page)

‘Calm down,’ I soothed. ‘Who is John Boyle and why does he want money?’

‘The fucking television.’ Larry spat. ‘I missed last week’s payment. I told him I only needed a couple of days when we spoke on the phone yesterday. Then this afternoon he comes into the shop and picks up a pair of glasses, one of the expensive pairs, and he snaps it in half, right there, and drops the bits on the floor. Luckily Mr Rook was out the back and I managed to hide it before he saw. But then John started shouting that he was going to make me regret it if he didn’t see the money owed him by tomorrow.’

Robbie had stopped eating and sat silently in his high chair watching his father rant. He looked scared.

‘Can’t we just give him the television back? He could sell it to someone else.’

‘It’s not that easy.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because John Boyle is a loan shark.’

I would never have thought that a television could cause so much trouble. Larry and I sat up late into the night coming up with a plan to keep Boyle at bay. Larry went out and got some beer to drink. He wanted to drown his sorrows but it seemed to me that spending money on beer was not the answer. Still, I bit my tongue and let him get on with it. He had never let me down before and I had no reason to doubt he would then.

I told him I’d sell my wedding ring, a simple gold band. Larry wouldn’t let me. He was a proud man.

‘This is my problem and I’ll find a way to fix it.’

‘We are in this together.’ I reached across the grubby kitchen table and held his hand. He pulled it away and opened his fourth can of beer. The suds bubbled up over the lip and spilt on to the table. The liquid pooled on the table. Neither of us made a move to clean it up.

‘Maybe we could just kill him.’ Larry laughed but his expression was serious.

‘There has to be something we have that he wants.’ I ignored his last comment.

‘The only thing John Boyle likes is money and pussy.’

The next day I woke up feeling sick. Everything was so uncertain. I didn’t know if our plan would work. I lay in bed wondering how long Larry had been up. He usually slept in on Saturday mornings. I looked at our little plastic alarm clock and saw that it was only seven. It was still dark outside. I rolled over and pulled the duvet up over my head. It smelt of sex and stale sweat and I couldn’t remember the last time I washed it. Robbie was crying in his cot in the other room and moments later Sue-Ann joined in the cacophony. I put my fingers in my ears and lay there in the darkness for a while thinking about what I’d agreed with Larry. The plan was simple.

Eventually I dragged myself out of bed and went to check on the children. Sue-Ann had quietened down but Robbie was still screaming at the top of his lungs. When I picked him up he stopped crying and I noticed the baby grow was sodden. His nappy had leaked. The smell then hit me and I put him back down. He immediately started to cry again. Sue-Ann was standing in her cot shaking it and calling me. Ignoring her I went over to the disorganised chest of drawers and searched the top drawer for a dummy. Eventually, right at the back I spotted one and shoved it into her mouth. Her dark brown eyes looked sad as she sat back down in her cot and cradled a threadbare teddy.

Robbie continued to cry. I left them both upstairs in their room while I went downstairs to make myself some coffee. I couldn’t deal with stinking nappies until after I’d had my caffeine fix.

Larry was sitting at the kitchen table his hands wrapped round a steaming mug of tea. I padded over to the kettle and flicked it on. The sound of screaming water quickly filled the silence. As I turned to pour coffee granules into my chipped mug I felt Larry’s hands around my large waist.

‘Morning, Mrs Miller.’ He grabbed one of my breasts through my nightdress and caressed my nipple. His erection was sticking into my lower back. ‘Remember what we talked about last night?’ his face was in my hair and I could feel his warm breath on my neck.

‘I do.’

‘Good girl. Just remember what you have to do.’

‘I know.’ I stirred the water in and watched the instant coffee dissolve.

‘Is that Robbie?’ Larry pulled his head away from mine and listened.

‘Yes. His nappy leaked all over him again. I’ll do it in a bit.’

‘OK. I’ll call Boyle and arrange the meeting then I’ll get dressed and nip out. There are some things we are going to need for tonight.’

At eight o’clock sharp there was a knock on the door. I sat stiffly on the sofa in living room while Larry answered it. Boyle was prompt if nothing else.

Through the top half of the window, that didn’t have dingy netting across it, I could see a few scattered stars in the sky. The night looked black and oppressive. It seemed appropriate.

On the coffee table in front of me sat a bottle of red wine and three glasses. The lighting in the room was low with only the table lamp next to the television turned on. Through the closed door I could hear muffled voices and I felt myself tense. This was my moment and I didn’t want to let Larry down. I heard the front door close and two sets of heavy footsteps approaching the lounge.

As the door opened I felt myself holding my breath. Larry entered first his eyes burning into me. A small ginger haired man with a beard and red cheeks followed him in. John Boyle was older than I was expecting, probably approaching fifty. His small eyes looked shocked to see me sitting there.

‘This is my wife.’ Larry introduced us and I got up from the sofa to shake his rough hand.

‘Nice to meet ya.’ His voice was gruff and he looked distinctly out of his comfort zone. I felt empowered by his weakness.

‘Have a seat.’ I sat back down on the sofa a patted the spot next to me. ‘Wine?’ I offered, pouring Larry and myself a glass.

Boyle stood for a moment looking at me before turning to Larry. He didn’t accept my offer to sit down.

‘I’m here for my money, Miller.’

‘John, John, relax please. Let’s be civil. Have a drink. Take a seat.’ I admired how cool Larry was being. He was so at ease. So manly.

‘Fine.’ Boyle sat on the sofa as far away from me as possible and took a glass from the table. I reached over and poured the wine for him, flashing him my most attractive smile. He stared blankly back at me before taking a large gulp. ‘This is all very nice, but where’s my money?’ he slammed the glass down on the table, spilling some wine.

‘That’s the thing,’ Larry sat forward in the armchair and rested his elbows on his knees, ‘I haven’t got it.’

Boyle leant back, crossed his legs and folded his arms.

‘Now there’s a surprise.’ He chuckled, clearly feeling as if he’d regained some control over the situation.

‘I can get your money, but it won’t be until next Friday at the earliest.’ The men eyeballed one another, neither willing to back down. The tension in the room was tangible and it felt as if it might erupt at any moment.

‘That’s simply not good enough, old chum.’ Boyle drank the rest of his wine in one go and stood up. ‘I hate to do this, you seem like a lovely couple,’ his sarcasm cut through me, ‘but it looks like I’m going to have to ask the boys to pay you a little visit.’

‘No.’ The word left Larry’s mouth with force. ‘No,’ he put his hands up in defeat. ‘You don’t need to do that, John.’

‘You owe me money. You can’t pay me what you owe. It all seems pretty simple to me.’ I noticed how black his teeth were as he spoke.

‘How about we come to some other arrangement?’ Larry looked more relaxed again and in control.

‘What can you possibly offer me?’ Boyle looked bored.

‘Dee.’ Larry signalled to me.

‘I stood up and moved closer to Boyle. He was wary at first, until he understood what was happening.

I dropped my dressing gown on the floor and revealed a polyester silky slip. It was tight around my bust and my waist. Boyle smiled and licked his chapped lips.

‘Oh,’ he rubbed his beard with his hand, ‘Now I see.’

‘Dee here is going to take you upstairs, John.’

‘Is she now?’ Boyle stood there smiling and undressing me with his eyes. I smiled back, doing my best to hide my disgust.

‘Do whatever you want.’ Larry appeared turned on by the prospect of his wife sleeping with another man. ‘Then we’re even.’

‘You think one session with this whale is enough to cancel out a debt worth two hundred pounds?’

I turned to Larry unable to hide my shock. He ignored my stare.

‘Have as many goes as you want.’ His eyes were cold and gave nothing away. ‘Come back whenever you like.’

Boyle stood there looking at me and contemplating the offer.

‘Don’t you have kids?’ He was still looking at me. I didn’t answer. ‘I suppose that’s your affair. Fine,’ he turned to Larry, ‘you got yourself a deal. She better be clean.’ He took hold of my hand roughly and led me out of the room.

It had taken us a while but at last we were financially secure. Larry still worked at Rook’s. He was a pillar of the community. I made money by selling sex. Our spare bedroom became my office.

Since my first time with John Boyle, it became a regular thing. Boyle knew plenty of men who were willing to pay for it. It was easy money. I didn’t even have to leave the house and I was paid well for what was usually only ten minutes’ work at a time. Some of them were rougher than others but Larry was always in the background ready to intervene if I needed him to. Occasionally he sat on a chair in the room and watched. The punters didn’t seem to mind. Some of them quite liked it.

Back then I only worked evenings and weekends. It was difficult during the day. Even though Sue-Ann was at nursery some of the time I still had Robbie under my feet.

I was making good money and Larry, with a bit of help from his brother Eric, had started to deal drugs, heroin mainly. Often my clients became his and vice versa. Neither Larry or I ever touched the stuff though. We weren’t that stupid. We saw what it did to people, how it wrecked their lives.

There was money stuffed under mattresses and floorboards. We didn’t have to pay the taxman and we bought whatever we wanted and went out more. I got nice clothes and jewellery, things I’d never dreamt of owning. We bought a caravan and used to go away to Norfolk for weekends. The extra income also meant that we could afford a babysitter whenever we wanted.

Alice, a spotty, awkward teenager who reminded me of myself at her age, used to come and look after the kids. She’d just finished school and was grateful for the money. She lived a few doors down from us. It was the perfect set-up.

The negatives were that I’d gotten pregnant a few times and had to have four abortions. Some of my clients didn’t like using protection. It was a hazard of the job and although I didn’t really mind having to go to the clinic, it was inconvenient.

That Saturday morning we were getting ready to go to a wedding. Dawn had met Ian McCarthy a year ago. He was a truck driver. She got pregnant ‘accidently’ and now they were having a shotgun wedding. It made me happy to see her putting on weight. She’d always been so skinny and smug about it.

Ian was a Catholic, so the ceremony was being held in Saint Laurence’s Church off Milton Road in the north of the city. Dad finally had rid of both of us.

Dawn had never paid much attention to my kids but wanted Sue-Ann to be her bridesmaid. I didn’t mind, as long as she didn’t expect me to pay for the dress.

At ten o’clock Larry, Sue-Ann, Robbie and I pulled into the church car park in the Ford. It was a grey day and rain was starting to drizzle. Getting out of the car in my jade coloured suit and matching hat that I’d bought from C&A I looked up at the church. It was an unimpressive modern building that looked more like a cross between a barn and an office block than a place of worship. Outside a few people congregated by the door, some of them smoking cigarettes. I didn’t recognise any of them. I’d only met Ian twice.

Larry and I approached the group and smiled at the various strangers in their wedding attire. Sue-Ann, wearing a maroon faux silk dress, went over to a puddle in her new patent black shoes and started to splash. Larry went over and gave her a little clip round the ear before pulling her away.

I held firmly on to Robbie’s hand. He wanted to join his sister in the puddle until he saw her being scolded. Then he stopped wriggling and stayed by my side. He looked quite sweet in his little white shirt and bowtie. People on the day said so.

We seemed to hang around in the car park for quite a while. Eventually Dad showed up and shuffled over to us. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked old suddenly. He didn’t even bother to wear a tie. If mum had seen him like that it would have broken her heart. It was a solemn realisation and the first time in my life that I was grateful she was dead. For her sake.

At about ten-twenty Ian showed up in his suit and we were ushered into the church. It was nicer inside than it was out. But I felt a bit weird being there. I never went to church. All that history and fire and brimstone gave me the creeps.

Robbie sat sandwiched between Larry and I, his finger shoved firmly up his nose. Sue-Ann had been taken away by Dawn’s maid of honour, a pretty blonde girl in the ugliest dress I’d ever seen. Larry paid special attention to her. He might as well have had his tongue hanging out.

Sitting in the uncomfortable wooden chair I looked at Ian, stood at the front of the church fiddling with his buttonhole, and wondered what he was like. We’d spent so little time together I really didn’t know him. He had a closed face and it was hard to tell what he was thinking most of the time. I hoped that he and Dawn would be happy. Even if my sister and I had grown apart I still remembered her as the little girl I looked out for after mum died. It made me wonder whether she ever felt the same affection towards me. Her behaviour towards me suggested not.

As the piano sounded the room went quiet and we all stood. The doors at the back of the church opened and Sue-Ann appeared holding a basket full of flower petals that she sprinkled along the aisle. As she made her way towards the front the onlookers cooed.