The Serial Killer's Wife

by Alice Hunter

  Something on the screen hadn’t looked right.

  I’d slowed down the scrolling, confused at the email subject headings.

  Then it had hit me. What I was looking at wasn’t Tom’s email account.

  I’d stared at it, bewildered. The email account was definitely someone else’s.

  My breath had caught, and my heart rate increased two-fold. The name on the account was familiar.

  ‘Katie Williams.’ Speaking it had felt strange on my tongue.

  I didn’t understand. Why had Tom got his ex-girlfriend’s email account on his iPad?

  My mobile vibrates in the glove compartment and catapults me back to the present. I’d stuck it in there when I went inside the visiting hall. I open the compartment and reach for it now, and stare at the name displayed on the screen for a moment.

  Adam.

  I accept the call.

  Chapter 56

  KATIE

  Eight years ago

  ‘Am I not good enough for you?’ Tom said. His eyes were wide – manic – as he held the mobile inches from Katie’s face. She turned to the side, backing up until she was pinned against the wall. ‘Eh? Well, am I?’

  His spit felt damp on her cheek. She closed her eyes tight; she didn’t dare speak.

  ‘Fucking hell! Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? Aren’t you going to even try and explain? Say sorry? Beg for forgiveness?’

  Still, Katie remained silent. Her refusal to engage when Tom was shouting at her made his anger spike. He pushed away from her, flinging her mobile across the floor. Katie let out a shuddering sob.

  ‘What are you crying for? I’m the one who should be upset. I’m the one you’ve lied to. Cheated on. After everything I’ve given you. All I’ve done for you. You ungrateful bitch!’ Tom launched towards her again, his right hand raised. The blow caught Katie on her left cheek. Pain exploded from it, causing white sparks to flitter in front of her eyes.

  ‘Please …’ she whimpered. She slid down the wall into a crouching position, cradling her already swelling face.

  ‘I don’t want to hurt you, Katie. I love you. You know full well I love the bones of you. But how could you betray me like this? With him?’ Tom moved away and reached for the discarded phone. ‘What is this?’ He shoved the mobile up to her face again. ‘Read it,’ he demanded. ‘Go on! Read that bit of the fucking message out loud. Let me hear you say it.’ Tom jabbed his finger at the screen – at the last part of the text.

  ‘I don’t … want … to,’ Katie said. Her voice was thick with tears. Fear.

  ‘Read. It.’ His voice was low, menacing.

  Katie did as she was told.

  ‘You … mean the world to me—’ Katie gave a hiccupping sob, then sucked in her breath, trying to continue, ‘—you know that … And after the other night, I thought things might have changed.’

  Tears streamed down her red, bloated face.

  ‘I don’t need to ask what he means, do I? It’s obvious. Am I not man enough for you, or something? You look like you enjoy sex with me. Surely it can’t be that?’

  Katie shook her head, her eyes lowered. She didn’t want to see his anger. She dared not say that sex with Tom sometimes scared her; that it could be too intense. Too rough.

  Tom lunged for her, grabbed her under the arms and hauled her into a standing position. Then he dragged her, like a ragdoll, into the bedroom. He threw her onto the mattress.

  ‘You’re going to have to be punished for this. You do realise that? I can’t just forgive and forget this betrayal, Katie.’

  Katie lay on her back, her eyes screwed up. She should fight. Run. Scream. Anything.

  But she couldn’t move. If she just let him hurt her – get it out of his system – maybe it would be quick. Then she could make her escape afterwards.

  ***

  TOM

  I’d held it all in for as long as I was able. But it’s always been the case that when the red mist descends, there is little I can do to stop it; something deep inside of me takes over. It doesn’t happen very often. Probably just as well.

  I scrolled through Katie’s messages again, finding the ones from him. For a split second I wondered if I’d overreacted; read too much into them. Then, like a nagging eye twitch, the voice inside my head told me I’d been right. They’d been planning on going behind my back.

  Chapter 57

  BETH

  Now

  I drove home in a daze, not thinking about Tom, the visit or his trial. Those thoughts flood my brain now, though, as I sit on my bed. I don’t feel capable of anything – all my energy has been zapped. Lying down and pulling the duvet over my clothed body, I shut my eyes against the brightness of the sunshine blazing through the window. Tom’s face hovers behind my closed lids, his features distorted with worry. Desperation radiates from his eyes as they plead with mine – just as they had the day I confronted him.

  ‘Tom, why have you got Katie’s email account on your iPad?’ I’d asked him when Poppy was in bed that evening. My heart hammered as I waited for an answer. I saw the tell-tale flicker of panic cross his face; caught the distinct bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard. I waited for him to give me an elaborate explanation – something benign; a simple reason. But it didn’t come. Instead, Tom’s face crumpled he dropped down on the sofa as though he could no longer hold his body weight up. And he cried.

  After a while, he calmed down enough to begin explaining. He didn’t even try to lie. He told me everything and I listened in complete silence, too stunned to interrupt. It’d been an accident, he said, the repercussions of which had spiralled out of control – first one lie to cover up what he’d done, followed by another to cover the first, then another and another. I wanted to scream at him to stop talking – whatever he was going to tell me couldn’t be unsaid. His mistakes couldn’t be undone. I didn’t say a word, though. I let him continue his story. It was as though I was listening to a radio play; fiction. Or someone else’s life.

  Tom spoke of how he’d momentarily lost control – he was jealous when he found out Katie had cheated on him. He’d only been trying to stop her from leaving the flat – he’d wanted to discuss it, to try and make things right. He’d thrown the paperweight at her from a distance – he hadn’t even meant for it to hit her, only to act as a warning. It was supposed to be a shock, to give her pause and to give him enough time to put up a good argument as to why they should stay together, work things out. He’d told her he’d forgive her for her error of judgement – but she’d ignored him and carried on. When it had made contact with her head and she’d collapsed, he’d frozen. Hadn’t thought straight.

  It had been an accident. A terrible, catastrophic accident he’d immediately wished he could reverse. In his panic, he’d left her there, in her flat, bleeding on the ground. Wandered the streets around Bethnal Green for an hour freaking out. He knew he should’ve called an ambulance, despite it being obvious she was dead. He should’ve called the police, but he’d been scared, as anyone would’ve been in that situation, he’d said – he was afraid no one would believe he didn’t purposely hurt her, especially as she’d just told him she was leaving.

  Tom had convinced me it was a terrible accident. He’d been beside himself, crying as I held him; his shame, grief and regret seeping from him. When I pushed him away, the gravity of what he’d told me had sunk in, and a sense of horror had replaced the initial shock. Tom had begged me to forgive him. Not to think badly of him.

  ‘I need you,’ he’d said. ‘Like you need me, Beth. And you wouldn’t want Poppy growing up without a father like you did. She’d be devastated – her life would be altered forever, affected by my one poor decision.’ He had known how to get to me; how to bring me around.

  ‘I’m the same person you’ve always known, Beth,’ he’d pleaded. ‘You know me. You know I wouldn’t ever purposely hurt anyone. Have I ever laid a finger on you? Poppy? Have you ever had cause to think I was capable of anything bad?’r />
  And no – of course the answer had to be no. He hadn’t hurt me – not in the way he was referring to. Just as I’d told the detectives, Tom is the perfect husband and father.

  Something that happened eight years ago, an event I’d had no clue about up until that point, wouldn’t change our relationship. It’d been an accident. And for Poppy’s sake, it was one I knew I’d have to learn to live with as well.

  Wouldn’t I?

  Chapter 58

  KATIE

  Eight years ago

  Katie was vaguely aware of Tom close by. Every inch of her hurt. He’d said he was going to punish her, and he had certainly lived up to his promise. But what would come next? His breathing was still rapid. Very slowly, Katie turned her head towards the sound. He was sitting on the floor, his back to her. There’d be no way she could edge off the bed and leave the room, the flat, without him stopping her. She’d have to try and talk her way out of this situation. She’d got Tom all wrong. Isaac had been right – she should’ve trusted him.

  Her movement caused the mattress to creak, and Tom snapped his head around to face her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, standing up.

  It was too late for apologies. And she wasn’t going to say sorry back. She’d done nothing wrong.

  ‘Whatever,’ she said. Her face was stiff; no doubt it was bruised. Maybe a broken cheek bone if the pain was anything to go by. She pulled herself into a sitting position, crying out as she did so.

  ‘It only happened because you went behind my back, Katie. I can’t be blamed for that. You brought this on yourself.’

  Katie didn’t respond. Sliding her legs off the bed, she cast her eyes around for her mobile.

  ‘Looking for this?’ Tom held it up. ‘Going to go running to Isaac?’ He smirked, and in that moment, Katie hated him. With what little strength she had left, she lunged at him, grasping for her phone.

  Tom ducked out of her reach and laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve already sent a heartfelt message from you to that pathetic loser.’

  Katie’s brow creased. Her stomach contracted painfully. What did he mean?

  ‘Cat got your tongue?’ he smiled.

  ‘Give it to me,’ she said.

  Tom held her mobile up above his head, his hand stretching to the ceiling. ‘Come and get it.’ He danced around the bedroom, the bizarre scene making her sick. Every one of her muscles tensed.

  ‘Fuck off, Tom.’ She couldn’t care less that he had her phone; she just wanted to get out of her flat. Let the police deal with him. She waited until he was on the far side of the room, then she ran, as best she could, towards her front door. For a brief moment, she thought she’d make it. But time slowed, and a sharp pain in her skull stopped her in her tracks. She put her hand to her head. Slowly, she brought it back down in front of her. Blood. Covering her hand. Dripping down her face. She watched, stunned, as blobs of deep red splashed onto the floor.

  ‘Oh, no you don’t. You don’t get to leave me,’ Tom said, dragging her backwards. ‘Come on. Let’s have a little fun.’

  ‘My head,’ Katie said. ‘It’s bleeding.’ Her voice sounded strangely disconnected.

  ‘Yes, babe. I know. Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.’ Tom placed Katie on the bed and left. She was too dizzy to move. She winced as he pressed a towel against the back of her head. ‘It’s just a cut. Might need some stitches. But, first, I think we need to make up, don’t you?’ He lowered himself onto the bed.

  Confusion clouded her mind. Was he going to try and have sex with her in this state? She wriggled beneath the weight of his body, a searing headache causing her vision to blur.

  ‘No … Tom … not … now …’ She felt weak. Helpless.

  ‘It’ll be okay, my darling. Just let yourself go. Give yourself to me.’

  His hands, hot, soft, grasped her throat. His grip tightened.

  Katie’s lungs burned. She found a final spurt of energy from deep within her and bucked, clawing at his hands. He didn’t release her.

  ‘I love you, Katie. Never forget that,’ were the last words she heard before darkness descended.

  ***

  TOM

  A satisfying sense of relief – a calmness – came over me as her life ebbed away in my hands. A calmness I hadn’t felt in a long time. Seven years, in fact. I sat for a long time afterwards just staring at her lifeless body. It was beautiful. If you looked past the bruises, that is.

  I knew I had to shake myself free of the trance and figure out my next move. I let myself take one last look into her eyes, then sent another message from her phone.

  Hey guys, sorry for radio silence lately! Hope you’re all doing OK. *Long message alert* (You might want to make a coffee …) I’ve been having a rethink about my career, and as you know, I’m keen to become a yoga teacher … so … I’m going to go to India to do it! I realised I’ve been procrastinating enough, and I really want to put everything into doing this – for me! You know, while I’m young and supple I know you’ll all be super happy for me. It does mean a fairly long time without contact though, as I want to fully immerse myself in the experience – no distractions or bloody social media – that sucks the soul right outta you! I’ll keep you updated as and when. Sorry there’s no time for a farewell party – some things need to be done with minimum fuss (and before I chicken out).

  Love and miss you all! Take care my wonderful friends. K xxx

  PS. Be kind to Tom for me. I put the engagement on hold and although he understands and supports my need to do this, he is pretty gutted.

  I really hadn’t meant for it to happen. Of course I didn’t want her dead. But I had wanted her for myself – to myself – with no interference from Isaac or anyone else. I think she’d had fair warning – enough chances to make it right. To put us first. She chose to go against us. She was going to choose him.

  It was a shame. I’d had high hopes she was the one.

  Although, that said, I’d thought the same about Phoebe too.

  Chapter 59

  BETH

  Now

  God, what time is it?

  I must’ve drifted off, forgotten to set an alarm. Sleeping during the day isn’t a good idea at the best of times, although I have no idea how I even managed to drop off. Thank God it’s only two thirty. Still time to get my shit together and make myself presentable enough to collect Poppy.

  I have several text messages – two from Lucy, wondering if I’m going to bother to turn in today; one from Julia asking if I need her to pick up Poppy again; and one from Adam, confirming the play date he arranged with me when he called earlier.

  I’d been shocked to hear from Adam so soon after our last meeting, when he’d suggested he would have Poppy on Friday. He asked for me to have Jess again this afternoon, which means he must trust me. It’s reassuring to know he’s still willing to be friends with me. At this stage, anyway. I imagine he’d change his mind if he knew the truth. Now I’ve faced Tom, I’m hoping I can keep up the façade for everyone else. I might not have known about it until relatively recently, but that doesn’t excuse my decision to keep it to myself. I’m well aware I could help end the pain of Katie’s family and friends, but to do that I’d have to create pain and suffering elsewhere. I can’t in all good conscience swap one for the other. Poppy is my priority. I refuse to hurt her.

  And besides, I must play the dutiful wife.

  There’s a low, droning noise outside. I concentrate, listening intently. Voices. Lots of voices.

  Shit. They’re back.

  I peep outside my bedroom window and see them, grouped together like a pack of hyenas. There must be about twenty reporters, or journalists, whatever they call themselves, all itching to get a photo of the killer’s wife. Anxiety shoots through my body. I’m going to have to face them; they might be hanging around until Tom’s trial. God, I hope not, though. Please let a bigger news story break.

  I choose my plain blue chiffon top and smart black trousers to go out in. C
onservative. I may well be judged for my husband’s crime, but I won’t be judged on my clothes. With a light coverage of foundation, minimal make-up – I need to appear as though I’m distraught yet classy – I edge towards the front door. I can’t even hear their chatter above my pulse whooshing in my ears. Nerves rise inside me; their tingling is more than the usual butterflies. More intense; more painful. Enough to create doubt.

  I can’t do this.

  They’re going to see through me. I’ll be vilified. Crucified.

  And they don’t even know the half of it.

  Chapter 60

  BETH

  Now

  It’s now or never, I guess. I’m taking a leaf out of Julia’s book and donning a pair of sunnies – at least they won’t be able to read what’s behind my eyes.

  Stand tall. Don’t let them know you’re scared of them.

  I burst from the door like a cannonball, shooting up the path to the lane outside the cottage before they even know what’s hit them. But then I hear the clamour of mass movement and clicking camera shutters. As much as I intended to hold my head high, reality and the onslaught of attention hit me and I lower it instead, tucking my chin onto my chest. I keep walking, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other as I attempt to drown out their shouts with the voice in my mind – the one repeating everything’s okay, you’ll be all right, this will be over soon. I don’t believe it, but it gets me to the nursery gate.

  It also gets them here too. I can’t believe they’ve followed me to my daughter’s nursery. How fucking dare they. I turn sharply to face them. I know as soon as I open my mouth a torrent of foul language will gush out of it, which won’t help the situation at all and certainly won’t keep me in a good light – there’ll be no sympathy from anyone witnessing my outburst; it’ll likely confirm their suspicions of me. But some things can’t be held in – their behaviour is abhorrent, and they must be called out on it.