The Optician's Wife (22 page)

Read The Optician's Wife Online

Authors: Betsy Reavley

BOOK: The Optician's Wife
2.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘But it’s not though, is it? Not under the circumstances.’ I sat up and put my head in my hands. ‘Why do I feel like I’ve done something wrong? This isn’t fair. It’s like I’m under a microscope. I can’t bloody breathe in this place but I can’t go anywhere. It’s worse than being in prison.’

‘This won’t last forever.’ She came over and sat down next to me, clutching her mug in her hands for warmth.

‘How do you know? A week ago I had a life. Now there are bodies being dug up in my house. When will it ever stop?’

Helen remained silent looking into her mug.

‘You won’t find any answers in there,’ I told her.

‘Mum, I’m hungry.’ Owen appeared in the doorway.

‘There are crisps in the cupboard.’ I pointed.

‘I’ve not had any breakfast.’

‘It doesn’t matter. You can have crisps. I don’t feel like cooking.’

‘I could make him something,’ Helen sprung up out of her seat and moved towards the fridge. ‘You brought lots of food with you, didn’t you.’

‘No.’ I barked. ‘I don’t want you doing it. I’ll make him something. He’s my son.’ Helen held her hands up and retreated from the fridge as I stood in between her and it, blocking her way. ‘What do you want?’ I turned to Owen who was still in his Power Rangers pyjamas.

‘Waffles and beans?’ His little eyes lit up eagerly.

‘Good idea.’ I ruffled his hair. ‘I’ll have some too.’ I pulled a box of frozen potato waffles from the freezer and looked at Helen who had returned to the sofa. ‘You want some?’ I waved the box at her.

‘No thanks. I had a bowl of muesli for breakfast.’

‘Suit yourself.’ I shrugged. Stuck up bitch.

 

Later that afternoon it was confirmed – the body in cellar belonged to Dawn.

‘I am so sorry, Deborah.’ Helen put her hand on my shoulder. I felt numb.

‘So what happens now?’

‘Larry is being interviewed as we speak.’ She spoke quietly so as not to disturb Owen, who was dozing on the sofa.

‘I can’t believe it.’ I shook my head. ‘Why? Why would he want to hurt her?’

‘Can you think back to the time when she disappeared. Is there anything that stands out? Something about his behaviour? Anything you remember, no matter how small, might help.’

‘I really thought she just left.’ My throat felt dry.

‘It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.’ Helen was doing her best but nothing could stop me from feeling guilty.

‘Has he said anything?’

‘No. Larry is still not talking. Detective Small is interviewing him. It would be better for him if he confessed.’

‘You think he did it.’

‘Well, yes.’ She looked at me strangely.

‘But what about a motive? I thought you lot worried about things like that.’

‘Small is the best police officer I have ever worked with. I’m sure he will get to the bottom of it.’ Is that meant to make me feel better, I wondered. ‘He will want to talk to you Deborah.’

‘So on the same day it’s announced my sister is buried in my cellar I’m meant to skip along to the police station and help you convict my husband?’

‘They will have some questions.’

‘I’ve got questions! But nobody seems to give a damn about that.’ Owen stirred on the sofa and I remembered not to shout. ‘He’s going to be devastated.’ I said looking at my son. ‘All my kids are. They loved Dawn. I don’t want anyone else telling them but me. Do you understand? When they hear it it’s got to come from me. I don’t want a stranger telling them their aunt is dead. This is a family matter.’

‘It is also a police matter,’ Helen reminded me gently.

‘And don’t I know it.’ I glared at her. ‘Now that they know, when do you think we can go home? I’m sick of being cooped up here. I want to get back to some sort of normality.’

‘It won’t be for some time I’m afraid. There might be more,’ the words linger in the air.

‘More what?’

‘Remains,’ she said seriously.

‘Are you serious?’

‘I can’t say for certain, Deborah, but the crime scene officers will be conducting a thorough search of the whole property, given what has been discovered so far.’

‘Daisy.’ I said her name in a half-whisper. ‘When will we know for sure?’

‘The pathologist will be checking medical and dental records and of course there is the DNA sample you gave us that helped to identify Dawn.’

‘I’m losing everyone all in one go. First Larry was taken away from me, then my kids left and now I find out Dawn has gone to. What have I done to deserve this?’

‘Nobody deserves to have their life taken away.’

I stopped for a moment wondering if she was talking about me or the three dead bodies that have been unearthed. ‘No, of course not. I suppose on top of everything else I’ve now got a funeral to plan.’

‘We are a long way off that yet.’ Helen looked at me and I could tell that her sympathy was waning.

‘Look, no offense but I want to be on my own for a while. Can I leave Owen with you? I’m going to take a bath. This has been a real shock for me. I need time to digest.’

‘Of course.’ She nodded. ‘Take as long as you like. I’ll be here.’

‘Thank you.’ I said, thinking, that is exactly what the problem is.

Once in the bathroom I locked the door. I knew no one would come in but I wanted to be sure of having the room to myself. I perched on the edge of the bath and it squeaked under my weight. Letting out a long sigh I felt my shoulders dropping. Helen’s intense scrutiny was beginning to drive me mad. Why did she have to be there all the time? I couldn’t breathe. The pressure of the small dark flat was bearing down on me and I couldn’t think. I opened the narrow frosted glass window to let cold air circle around the room. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted a bath. I just had to get away from her.

I took my mobile phone out of my back trouser pocket and composed a text to Sue-Ann.

‘I want to see you and Robbie. Don’t talk to the police before you’ve spoken to me.’

I pressed send and waited for a response. Ten minutes later I was still looking at my phone, willing it to vibrate. I accepted she was not going to answer. She always was the difficult one. Ungrateful.

Still not wanting to return to the living room I closed the window and started to run a bath. I hadn’t got any shampoo or body wash with me. We left home in such a hurry that I hadn’t have time to think. I regretted the oversight as I watched the bath slow fill up. Some nice smelly bubble bath would have been just the ticket. On the side of the sink was a new bar of soap, the kind that old ladies use. That would have to do.

Moments after sinking into the warm water there was a tap on the door.

‘What?’ I didn’t even try to hide my frustration.

‘Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve been on the phone to Detective Small. He wants me to bring you into the station to answer a few questions.’

I groaned and let my head sink under the cloudy water.

 

 

November 15
th
1993

 

 

Dawn had been living with us for a while. The spare room had been made into a private place for her, the dog and Daisy. She’d made it very homely. She was clever like that.

I actually quite liked having her around. She helped with the day to day running of the house and was good with my kids. She cooked often and kept the place clean and tidy. In return we didn’t ask her for any rent. Occasionally she would do a food shop, though. Ian had been quickly persuaded to give her a monthly allowance. Larry had seen to that.

I will never know what happened between the two men but after Larry paid him a visit we didn’t hear a peep out of him. He sent Dawn money and didn’t bother her. She and I discussed the possibility of divorce but nothing was ever done about it. She was happy to have him out of her life and feared that involving solicitors would encourage him to turn nasty again. As long as Ian wasn’t banging our door down I wasn’t going to disagree with her. She knew him better than anyone.

The one thing that did surprise me was how willing Ian was to give up his daughter. He never once tried to see her. Daisy was such a sweet little thing it didn’t make sense to me. Before long I started to see her as one of my own. She was a little cherub and I wished I could have felt the same way about Sue-Ann. But Daisy was pretty. It was easier to love her than my own daughter.

Dawn talked about getting a job but I encouraged her not to bother. She didn’t have anyone to look after Daisy and I wasn’t about to volunteer. She was more use to me when she was around the house. It wasn’t lost on me how we had swapped roles. For years I’d looked after her, cleaning and cooking. Now it was her turn. Of course I was still looking after her in a way: she would have been on the street if Larry and I hadn’t taken her in. I suppose old habits die hard.

It was a mild autumn that year. I remember finding it difficult to believe that Christmas was only six weeks away. A large watery sun hung low in the sky. The light was beautiful. Sometimes, so that I could get out of the house and away from the noise the kids were making, I’d take Rollo, Dawn’s dog, for a walk.

On that day in November as I crunched over the carpet of brown leaves I found myself walking towards the village of Grantchester to the west of the city. Crossing a bridge over the river Cam I found myself on a footpath that followed the river. It was surprisingly warm. I wore only a cotton sweatshirt and jogging bottoms and I flattened anything in my path with my tatty old boots.

It was strangely quiet. The city was so close yet felt so removed. Wondering along the path I watched Rollo bounce about, stopping to pick up a scent or pee every few minutes. He was a happy dog. His tail pointed up in the air and wagged every time he discovered a new smell. It was nice to have an excuse to walk and get away from everything. Living with Dawn only reminded me of how fat I’d gotten. She never carried any extra weight. If anything she was too skinny. I started to worry that Larry might look at her that way. She was pretty and he had eyes.

To my irritation she would leave her underwear hanging in the bathroom to dry. Her silky knickers and bras were draped over the radiator or hung from the curtain rail. I never understood why she didn’t hang them in the garden like I did. But on reflection she always was an attention-seeker. No doubt she did it for his benefit. I should have taken them down or put them in a really hot wash. That would have taught her a lesson.

My relationship with Dawn was complicated and living with her again reminded me of this. Some of the time I wanted to protect her and some of the time I wanted to slap her face. We were so different. If we hadn’t been sisters we would never have had anything to do with one another. But I suppose that is the way it is for a lot of families. Sibling relationships are fraught with tension and ours was made worse by the fact that Dawn was Dad’s favourite and I wasn’t. If mum had been alive things would have been different. She loved me. I was her special girl.

As walked along the water’s edge something caught my eye. The river was narrow at this part and a large dark object was slumped on the bank further upstream. Suddenly I remembered the killer that had been stalking the area. He – everyone always presumed it was a he – was no nearer being caught. I stopped still and squinted into the distance. Could it be a body? Not wanting to get any closer I picked up a stick, teased the dog and threw it in the direction of the mass.

Rollo went skipping over to the stick and returned it to me without noticing the lump by the river. I took a few tentative steps forward. It looked like a corpse. Standing alone, I wondered what to do. I didn’t want to get involved but curiosity got the better of me and I made my way carefully towards it. I hadn’t realised I was holding my breath until I got closer and realised it was an old coat that had caught on a fallen tree. Of course it wasn’t a body.

Rollo was at my feet panting and nudging the stick with his nose. Feeling foolish as well as spooked I ignored the dog’s request, turned around and made my way back along the path towards home.

 

Sue-Ann and Robbie had gone to school when I got back and the house was peaceful. I gave a sigh of relief as I slipped my boots off and left them lying in the hallway. As I passed the lounge I saw Daisy and Owen sitting in their playpen happily together. Rollo pushed past me, almost knocking me over, and bounded up to the kids wagging his tail, still holding the stick he’d been playing with on the walk.

The children squealed with excitement when he pressed his large wet nose through the bars of the wooden pen and tried to lick their faces.

I left them there and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water but was surprised to find it abandoned. Dawn was nowhere to be seen. Going to the bottom of the stairs I called up.

‘Dawn? You there?’

There was silence. As I turned to go and check on the kids I heard her call out.

‘Yes, just coming. Be down in a minute.’ She sounded frantic.

I took my glass of water into the lounge and turned the TV on. Moments later Larry went rushing past on his way towards the front door.

‘What are you still doing here? Running late, aren’t you?’

‘Needed to iron a shirt. See you later.’ He said, before I heard the front door close behind him. That’s funny, I thought. I could have sworn Dawn had ironed some only yesterday.

Seconds later she appeared in her dressing gown.

‘All OK?’ She asked me leaning over the playpen and stroking Daisy’s head.

‘Fine. That dog of yours is relentless. Doesn’t he ever get tired?’

‘He’s still young.’ She sat down beside me straightening her satin gown.

‘Kids go off to school OK?’

‘Sure. All fine. I sent them with sandwiches and crisps. Hope that’s OK.’

‘Fine. As long as they eat it.’ I stared at the TV watching two women on a chat show tear into each other.

‘Right, well, I might go and have a bath.’ Dawn stood and stretched.

‘Didn’t you have one last night?’

‘Yes. But you are allowed to wash on a regular basis, you know.’ She could be so cutting when she wanted to.

‘Fine. But remember who pays the bills round here.’ It was the best come-back I had.

Other books

Parallel Parking by Natalie Standiford
Heartless by Jaimey Grant
Victory by Susan Cooper
Call Me Jane by Anthea Carson
Butterfly by Sylvester Stephens
Thirteen Days by Robert F. Kennedy