The Optician's Wife (23 page)

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Authors: Betsy Reavley

BOOK: The Optician's Wife
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‘As if you would ever let me forget.’ She sauntered out of the room leaving me behind in a waft of her sugary perfume. No wonder she wanted a bath. She smelt like a sweet shop.

 

January 28
th
1998

 

 

‘I really don’t know what else you want me to say.’ I sat in the horribly uncomfortable plastic chair and stared across at DS Small.

‘The truth would be a good place to start.’ His mask had slipped and he no longer felt compelled to play the good cop.

‘I’m telling you the truth, as I know it.’

‘OK, OK Mrs Miller, have it your way. Let’s go back to the very beginning.’ He flicked through a pile of notes that lay on the table between us.

‘If I’m not under arrest why am I here?’

‘We are here to talk about the whereabouts of little Daisy McCarthy. I have cautioned you, which means you are not obliged to say anything.’

‘I’ve got nothing to hide.’

‘Good. Let’s continue then.’

I looked over at Carol Winter-Bottom who sat stiffly beside me. She gave me a definitive nod of the head.

‘Fine.’

‘What is your relationship to Daisy McCarthy?’

‘She’s my niece.’

‘When was she born?’

‘Late 1990, I think.’

‘When did you last see her?’

‘She was with her mother.’

‘When?’

‘A while ago.’ I shrugged.

‘What time of year was it?’

‘Spring, I think.’

‘Where?’

‘At my house probably.’

‘Probably? Where in your house?’

‘I don’t know. The kitchen maybe.’

‘And then what?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I mean, what happened the last time you saw your sister and her daughter?’

‘Don’t really remember.’

‘What was her reason for leaving the area?’

‘I already told you. She didn’t actually tell me she was going to leave. I came back to the house one day and she was gone. Left a letter saying she was going to Spain.’

‘With Daisy?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘Did the letter mention the whereabouts of Daisy?’

‘Probably. I don’t remember. It was a long time ago. I can’t remember every word of a letter I read years back.’

‘What led to Dawn wanting to leave?’

‘Nothing as far as I knew. I suppose she wasn’t very happy.’

‘Did she say that to you?’

‘Not in so many words.’

‘But she implied she wanted to move to Spain.’

‘No.’

‘So it was a sudden thing?’

‘I guess you could say that.’

‘Did you try to contact your sister after receiving the letter she left you?’

‘No I didn’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘She didn’t leave a forwarding address. She said she’d be in touch once she was settled.’

‘At the time she disappeared did Dawn own a mobile phone?’

‘I think so.’

‘Either she did or she didn’t.’

‘OK, yes, she did.’

‘Did you ever call her on it after the date you say she left?’

‘Maybe. Probably a couple of times.’

‘And did you talk to her?’

‘No. The line wasn’t working. I figured it was because she was abroad or something.’

‘So, let me get this right: your sister ups and leaves without a word of warning and you can’t get hold of her. Didn’t you think that was strange?’

‘Not really. She was always a bit flaky. Dawn didn’t really care about other people’s feelings. She always did what she wanted.’

‘It sounds as if you were cross with her?’

‘No. Why would I be?’ I shuffled in my chair wanting to be out of the stuffy interview room.

‘Was there a row before she left?’ Small’s eyes fixed mine.

‘No. She and I didn’t really argue.’

‘Even though you thought she was selfish.’ He sat back in his chair looking satisfied.

‘I never said that.’

‘You sound annoyed, Mrs Miller.’

‘Look, she was stubborn. If she’d wanted to talk to me she would have called or something.’

‘But she couldn’t, could she.’

‘No she couldn’t. But I didn’t know that back then, did I. Like I said, I thought she was in Spain lying on a beach somewhere.’

‘Did her husband ever contact you and ask as to her whereabouts?’

‘I think so. Once or twice.’

‘And what did you tell him?’

‘I told him to get lost.’

‘Why was that?’

‘I told you, he used to beat her up.’

‘We’ve spoken to Mr McCarthy and he denies your claims.’

‘Well he would.’

‘Currently we only have your word that he ever laid a finger on her.’

‘Why would I make it up?’

‘Good question.’ Small raised his eyebrows. ‘Did you discuss her sudden disappearance with your husband?’

‘Course I did,’ I huffed.

‘And what did he say?’

‘Ask him.’

‘We have. Now I’m asking you.’

‘Well, he said she was a grown woman and she had to make her own choices.’

‘Were Mr Miller and Dawn close?’

‘Not particularly.’ Moving in my seat I reached for a glass of water and took a sip. My throat felt so dry. I was sick of talking.

‘But they got on?’

‘Yeah. He was always kind to her.’

‘And Daisy?’

‘Sure and her.’

‘Did you not worry about Daisy when your sister suddenly up and left?’

‘Not really.’

‘Why not?’

‘She wasn’t my kid.’

‘And are you worried now?’

‘Well, I know stuff now I didn’t know back then.’

‘So yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you are aware that we have recovered the body of a child from your basement? The same basement your sister was buried in.’

‘Yes, I’m aware.’ I scowled at him.

‘Do you think Daisy is still alive?’ Small kept clicking the top of a biro. The noise was driving me mad.

‘Could be. I don’t know.’

‘You don’t seem very upset, Mrs Miller,’ Small leant forward on his elbows. His shirt arms were rolled up.

‘No point in being upset until I know anything for sure.’

‘You know that your sister is dead. You know that your husband admitted to killing Mark McCarthy.’

‘Yes, well, I’m in shock and I’ve got my boy to think of.’

‘Forgive me for being a sceptic. I’ve done this job a long time and one of the hazards of it is that people lie.’

‘I’m not lying.’

‘But you are implicated.’ Small’s lips went into a thin smile.

‘Why?’

‘Because bodies have been discovered in the grounds of your home and your husband has confessed to murder.’ I immediately looked to Carol Winter-Bottom for help. She sat back in her chair, eyed the policeman and folded her hands in her lap.

‘You are aware how serious this situation is, Mrs Miller.’ Small continued clicking his biro.’

My right leg was shaking uncontrollably. Carol reached out a hand, under the table and rested it on my knee to signal I should stop the twitch. Then she turned to me and nodded her head once.

‘No comment.’ I said pretending to examine my nails. ‘That’s all you are going to get out of me from now on.’

 

January 3
rd
1994

 

 

Dawn sat at the kitchen table painting her nails a garish shade of pink.

‘You’re not a teenager any more,’ I scoffed.

‘Doesn’t mean I have to stop making an effort.’ She looked me up and down with contempt.

I ignored her look and went over to the fridge and opened the door. I wanted something to eat but I didn’t know what. The dog lay dozing on the floor.

‘Are there any biscuits left?’ I asked closing the door.

‘Probably not.’ Dawn continued to concentrate on her nail varnish. ‘You’ve probably eaten them all.’

Determined not to rise to her snide remark I went over to the cupboard and removed the biscuit tin. It was empty.

‘Go to the shop and buy some more.’ I reached for my purse that was lying on the kitchen surface and removed a five-pound note. ‘You can get more milk while you’re at it.’ I held the money out.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Dawn sat up and looked at me defiantly. ‘Not with a psycho on the loose.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Another body turned up in the river yesterday. It’s gruesome.’ She gave an exaggerated shiver.

‘Where did you hear that?’

‘It was on the TV. Don’t you ever watch the news? Sometimes I think you live with your head in the sand.’

‘Oh, it’ll just be that guy who went missing on New Year’s Eve. A drunk who fell in the river, and you know it. Any excuse not to go to the shop.’ I rolled my eyes, tired of her attitude.

‘Doesn’t it worry you, a killer on the loose?’

‘Why should it? I’m sure he wouldn’t want to kill me. But I can see why you might be worried.’ I couldn’t contain my smile.

‘Bitch,’ Dawn muttered under her breath.

‘Have you ironed those shirts?’

‘Yes. Someone had to.’

‘Good. You can sit here and act like a princess. I’ll go and get some milk for your kid to drink, shall I?’

Dawn looked up at me her almond-shaped eyes framed by the perfectly applied make-up she always wore.

‘You could do with the exercise.’

‘And you could do with a slap.’ I grabbed my wallet and marched out of the kitchen. I was bursting with anger. She was lucky I hadn’t hit out. My size meant that I could cause damage. How I would have loved to wiped that smirk off her face.

It was then that I realised I didn’t want her living under my roof any more. That night I would talk to Larry and suggest we tell her to get her life together and move out. She had been relying on us for long enough.

The kids were all in the lounge watching a video they’d been given for Christmas. I stood in the doorway looking at them all. They were so transfixed by the screen they didn’t even notice me.

You could spot Dawn’s daughter a mile away. She looked so different to her cousins. She was always nicely turned out, her hair brushed and clothes neat. Daisy sat sweetly on the carpet eating an apple while my kids shoved handfuls of crisps into their mouths. Sue-Ann was on the sofa looking sulky. She wanted to go out and play with her friends but I told her she had to stay and help look after the little ones. Her bottom lip stuck out and for a moment I imagined myself slapping her too.

‘I’m going to the shop,’ I told them. ‘Be good.’ Not one of them turned to look at me or responded.

 

Larry came back from work with fish and chips for us all. Said he wanted to save me having to make dinner. I wasn’t much of a cook and we all knew it.

Sitting around the kitchen table Dawn, Larry and I munched happily on the greasy chips, dipping them into curry sauce. None of us said anything. I was looking forward to having Larry to myself. I wanted to get him on side and agree with me that Dawn should move out. I didn’t want to throw her out with nowhere to go. Nothing so unkind. We’d tell her it was time she got a job and moved on with her life. She didn’t really expect to live with us for the rest of her life did she?

From the kitchen I could hear the blare from the TV where the kids were all sitting watching something and eating their dinner. I often fed them in front of the telly. It was easier that way and they never complained.

Dawn had had her fill of food and pushed the paper away dabbing a napkin on her mouth.

‘I’m stuffed.’ She hadn’t eaten half the amount I had.

‘More for me.’ Larry reached over and grabbed a handful of chips.

‘Naughty.’ She slapped the back of his hand lightly and smiled.

‘I’m a growing lad.’ Larry sat back patting his stomach.

‘Do you have to flirt like that?’ I looked at Dawn angrily.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. We aren’t flirting.’ Dawn blushed.

‘Don’t treat me like a fool. I wasn’t born yesterday. Have some fucking respect.’

Larry sat silently, still chewing on a mouthful of battered fish.

‘Say something.’ Dawn nudged his arm.

‘Don’t expect him to stick up for you.’ I stood up and put my hands on my hips. ‘You have pushed me far enough this time. What sort of woman tries it on with her sister’s husband?’

‘You are imagining things. Larry, tell her please.’

‘Dee,’ Larry turned to me.

‘Don’t Dee me. I’ve had it up to here. We’ve taken you in and looked after you. But I really think it’s time you moved out. Get a job. Stand on your own two feet. Stop scrounging off us.’

‘You want me to move out?’ Dawn’s eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip quivered.

‘Yes. I do.’ I glared at her, unmoved by her show of emotion.

‘Enough.’ Larry stood up and slammed him hand down on the table. ‘That is enough, Dee. Dawn is family. We look after our own.’

‘But Larry–’

‘But nothing. This is my house and I say who lives under this roof. Dawn,’ he turned to her and put his hand on her shoulder, ‘Of course you are staying. Dee is just upset.

I was gobsmacked. I stood there looking at my husband and sister side with each other.

‘Why don’t you go and sleep in her bed tonight. You’re not sleeping in mine.’

Before I even knew what had happened he hit me across the cheek with the back of his hand. It stung and I sat down in shock.

Dawn looked taken back.

‘I’m sorry you had to witness that, Dawn.’ Larry rubbed his chin and made an effort to calm himself down. Dawn said nothing. She couldn’t look at me. ‘Go and have a bath or something.’ Larry turned to me. His stare was cold. ‘Clean yourself up and then come up to bed.

It was my turn to have tears well up. ‘I’m sorry.’ My voice sounded hoarse.

‘It’s fine. Have a bath and then go upstairs and put on that lacy nightdress. You can make it up to me in bed.’

Dawn looked embarrassed and busied herself by clearing away the leftovers.

I nodded and stood silently before leaving the room. My cheek was burning and I could taste blood in my mouth.

‘You aren’t going anywhere,’ I heard Larry say to Dawn as I closed the door to the bathroom.

 

 

January 29
th
1998

 

 

I’m sitting in that dingy flat again, cooped up watching crap on TV. Less than half an hour ago it was confirmed that the body of the child was Daisy.

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