The Optician's Wife Read Online Free Page A

lot of time in Newmarket at the racecourse. My mother would have described him as a rogue. ‘Stay away from men like that Debbie,’ she would have said. But it wasn’t Eric I was interested in.
    Larry’s family lived in a Victorian house they owned in the Romsey area of Cambridge, just off Mill Road. It had three bedrooms and two bathrooms. He came from a better family than I did.
    Larry talked all about how he was going to be an optician. He loved eyes, he said. For as long as he could remember he’d been fascinated by sight. He wanted to help people keep seeing, he would say. To have no vision would be scary, he thought, and I agreed. I’d never known anyone have such enthusiasm for anything.
    The fact that he loved his job came as real surprise to me. Working in Woolworths was OK, but I couldn’t say I loved it. Larry said I needed to find my calling. He said he’d help me. I told him I liked books and he said I must love eyes, too, because without eyes you couldn’t read. I’d never seen it like that before I said, and he laughed.
    ‘There’s lots of different ways of looking at the world. You just have to find your own way of seeing it,’ Larry said once. I didn’t really understand what he meant by that back then.
     
    By June we had grown close but those were the early days and our relationship moved at a snail’s pace. He was very respectful. I wasn’t ready for kissing and heavy petting then. I had to get to know him first, to be able to trust him. I was still a virgin and the thought of being anything different terrified me.
    I hadn’t met his family and he hadn’t met mine. I liked it just the way it was: the two of us in our private world uncomplicated by adults. Although he was twenty-three and I was seventeen, we still felt like kids inside. But Larry was more grown up than I was. He was older and he had his head screwed on. He knew what direction he wanted to go in. He had plans. I was still working out who I was. Sometimes I used to think that I would never know. But having him in my life helped me to focus. I was caught up in his positive outlook. It started to rub off on me.
    On that day as we sat by the river enjoying the warm sunshine, Larry turned to me and said, ‘I think you should hand in your notice at Woolworths. It’s no good for you, Dee.’ That was his nickname for me.
    ‘I can’t. What else would I do? I need the money.’
    ‘I know what you should do. You should get a job working in a bookshop. Then you could read all the time.’
    ‘I don’t know–’
    ‘Sure you do. It would be perfect. If you worked in the bookshop in the centre you’d be closer to the opticians and I could pop in all the time. It would be great.’
    ‘They probably don’t have any vacancies–’.
    ‘They do.’ Again I was cut off. ‘I went in yesterday and asked the woman behind the desk. I told her all about you. How much you love reading, how you don’t really like your current job and she said you should go in and give her your CV. I’ll help you write it, if you like. I’m really good at that sort of thing. I know just want people want to hear.’
    I looked down at my chubby pale knees that were sticking out just below the hem of my blue tabard and noticed my legs needed shaving. I’d never shaved my legs before or even thought about doing it. I felt self-conscious and tugged at the skirt hoping Larry wouldn’t notice.
    ‘What do you think?’ He leant in with his eyebrows raised.
    ‘Well, I’d need to check with Dad.’ I knew he wouldn’t approve.
    ‘Rubbish. Look, as long as you have a job I don’t think he will mind where you’re working. I’m sure he’d want you to be happy.’
    The idea was laughable. I pictured him scoffing at the prospect. ‘What do you want to work in a bookshop for?’ he’d say, ‘You need to get your head out of the clouds and step into the real world, my girl.’ I could imagine the whole conversation.
    ‘I’ll do it.’ I felt a burst of