The Optician’s Wife: a compelling new psychological thriller

by Betsy Reavley

  Talking about Daisy made me feel uncomfortable. I didn’t want to dwell on what I did to her.

  ‘Next, that bloody dog started barking. Wouldn’t stop. It was giving me a headache so I smashed his skull in. Then Dawn woke up and saw Daisy lying on the floor near. I was just sitting on the bottom step of the cellar stairs looking at the ground. Dawn started screaming and kept trying to wake Daisy up. I told her there wasn’t any point, but she wouldn’t listen. I hadn’t decided what I was going to do with Dawn but then she told me something that changed everything. She told me Daisy was Larry’s daughter.’

  I sniff and wipe a tear away. ‘I had no idea they had been sleeping together for that long. As far as I know, Ian found out and that’s why he battered Dawn. It all started to make sense.’

  ‘Did Larry know about Daisy?’ Verity asked.

  ‘He didn’t know she was his kid. No. He never knew that. Dawn never told him. She only ever looked after number one. It suited her to keep the lie going. But when she told me I was livid. I made her tell me everything about her affair with Larry. She said she was in love with him, but she only ever loved herself. We sat in the cellar for hours. Dawn kept cradling Daisy’s body. I told her if she didn’t tell me the truth I’d kill her too. She really believed I’d let her go. It’s funny really,’ I shook my head, ‘Dad used to say she was the smart one. How wrong he was.’ Verity put the pad and pencil back on the table and moved her chair slightly so the gap between us was wider.

  ‘We used to keep the toolbox in the basement. Dawn sat on the floor holding Daisy. She didn’t try to get up. I went over to it and removed a screwdriver. Then I prised her eyes out. The axe we’d used to chop up Mark was lying there against the wall in the cellar so afterwards, when I’d taken her eyes, I picked it up and brought it down into her skull. I’ll never forget the noise.’

  Verity sat, mouth open opposite. ‘And there you have it.’

  It took her a moment to compose herself.

  ‘What about Joanne? You didn’t explain about her.’

  ‘Oh well, that’s simple. Larry killed her. I told him to. Told him to make her pay and he did. He really liked it when I suggested he took her eyes as a keepsake. I thought he would.’

  Verity buried her face in her hands.

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ I huffed. ‘But she ruined me and he was so upset. He needed a vent.’

  ‘You are a monster.’ Verity’s eyes filled with tears.

  ‘That’s not very polite. I’ve just given you the interview of the decade.’

  ‘Why? Why have you told me all of this?’ A large tear rolled down her cheek.

  ‘I’m tired.’ I admitted. ‘I’ve been in prison for a long time and a lot of lies have been said about me. I thought it was time people knew the truth. You know I killed one of those bitches when I was pregnant? That’s one of the ones I’m most proud of.’ I put my hands behind my head. ‘Owen stopped coming to see me. I don’t have to protect him any more. It’s probably better that he hates me. It will be easier for him if he does.’

  ‘You sound as if you actually care about him.’

  ‘I do. He was always my favourite. He was such a good boy.’ I placed my chubby hands back on the table. ‘So what now?’

  ‘Now I go and write this all up.’ She picked up her water bottle and the Dictaphone. ‘You know I’ll have to pass this over to the police.’

  ‘Do what you like with it.’

  ‘Just one question,’ she said standing up, ‘Why now? Why confess all this now?’

  ‘Because of you.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Verity looked perplexed.

  ‘When Sonya came to the prison she became my friend. We would talk about lots of different things. I told her I’d been approached by you and she said I should do the interview.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because of your relationship to Dr Hewitt.’ I smiled standing up. ‘Sonya told me you were Hewitt’s niece. She’d read an article you’d written some years ago talking about the trauma families of murder victims faced. It was a golden opportunity.’

  ‘So you knew she was my aunt before today?’ Verity looked horrified.

  ‘Sure did.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say something then?’

  ‘I thought it might put you off coming and that would put a spanner in the works.’

  Before she had a second to react I reached for the pencil on the table. It only took me a second to get around the table and stab her in the eye with it. She cried out in horrendous pain. I pulled the pencil from her left eye, wrestled her to the ground and jabbed it into her right. The popping sound was delicious.

  ‘I’m never getting out of here.’ I leant close to her ear and heard the shouting coming from outside the room. ‘You were my chance to own another life. To have one more turn at having some fun.’

  I could smell the blood that covered her face. Her body twitched beneath me. As I heard the lock in the door turning I pulled the pencil out of her eye socket and threw it across the room and plunged my thumbs into her face. The feeling of wet warmth covered my hands. As I sat back the ground I looked up at the ceiling, listened to the cries of the officers around me and thought of Larry.

  ‘That one was for you.’ I smiled as my face was pushed to the ground and a knee pressed into my back.

  ‘I need some help here!’ I could hear the panic in the officer’s voice. On the other side of the room Verity laid very still her face covered in blood. The female officer who had rushed to her aid turned to me with a look of terror.

  ‘What have you done?’ her voice shook.

  ‘What I always do.’ Then I smiled, closed my eyes and let the calm wash over me.

  Thanks for reading The Optician’s Wife. Please help others enjoy it too by leaving a review on Amazon.

  Betsy Reavley is also the author of best-selling psychological thrillers; The Quiet Ones and Carrion.

  The Quiet Ones Amazon UK

  The Quiet Ones Amazon US

  Carrion Amazon UK

  Carrion Amazon US

  Acknowledgements

  Where to start? There are so many great people in my life who have kept me going. My first thanks goes to Jasper Joffe who helped me kick-start my career. As always I am grateful to my wonderful family for putting up with me and supporting my writing. My editor Clare has done a wonderful job and I am thankful for all her hard work. A special mention goes out to Anita Waller who took the time to read the first draft and share her wisdom. Likewise, many thanks to Noelle Holten who put up with me asking questions and advised me on prison protocol. I’d like to show my gratitude to Carol Drinkwater who has given me faith in my ability and shown unprecedented support. To all the fellow authors at Bloodhound Books I am honoured to be amongst you. David Gilchrist and Helen Boyce I am indebted to you for helping me and all the other indie authors out there gain coverage. Finally, I’d like to give a shout out to all the wonderful bloggers and readers out there who help launch and support the careers of indie writers. In particular Emma Welton, Sarah Hardy and Joanne Robertson – You are wonderful.