The Optician's Wife Read Online Free Page B

pride and strength. ‘I’ll go and speak to the people in the bookshop after work today.’
    ‘That’s the spirit!’ Larry put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him. I could smell his musky aftershave and inhaled. ‘You should think about yourself more. Stop worrying what your dad will think. I’m proud of you.’
    It was the first time I’d heard anyone say that since my mum had died and I felt my bottom lip quiver.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ He lifted my chin in his hands.
    ‘I’m just happy.’ A large tear rolled down my cheek and he wiped it away.
    ‘Not as happy as me.’ He kissed my lips, lingering a moment longer than usual. ‘You are so special, Dee. You can do anything you set your mind to. You just have to believe.’
     
    I told Stuart that I had a headache so I could leave work half an hour early. The bookshop closed at five-thirty and I wanted to make it there in time to talk to the manager.
    As agreed, Larry met me on the corner and we walked through the town past Sydney Sussex College and on to Trinity Street where the bookshop was located. Freeman’s Bookshop had been there for years. It was the place I always went to browse for my next read. It was the most popular bookshop in the town, always full of students looking for textbooks and bookworms in search of fuel.
    As we approached, I started to feel my nerves getting the better of me. The cream stone building was old and I found its history suddenly daunting. Larry picked up on it and linked his fingers with mine.
    ‘It’s just an informal talk. Relax.’ His tone was soothing.
    ‘I’ve only ever had one interview before and that was at Woolworths.’
    ‘This isn’t an interview, Dee. You just have to introduce yourself and tell her you want to apply for the job. Simple.’
    The street was busy with shoppers and kids who were killing time together after school.
    A cyclist passed too close to me, almost knocking me over.
    ‘Idiot!’ Larry called out. The cyclist kept up his speed and didn’t look back.
    ‘It’s OK.’ I’d never seen him look cross before. It unnerved me.
    I was used to close calls with bikes. Everyone who lived in Cambridge needed to have eyes in the back of their head. Cyclists were everywhere but not all of them were very considerate of pedestrians. I can’t count the number of times I’d been knocked over or had to jump out the way of an oncoming cyclist.
    ‘Still,’ Larry said calming down, ‘he should look where he’s going.’
    I was still too worried about going into the bookshop to be bothered by the selfish student.
    ‘Ready?’
    ‘Yes.’ I hoped I sounded convincing.
    ‘Good luck. I’ll be waiting for you out here.’
    I nodded and pushed the door open.
    It was nearly closing time and the last few customers were queuing at the till waiting to pay. It suddenly dawned on me that I’d not chosen the best time to come in. I stood there for a moment wondering what to do. I looked around to see if I could see someone else who worked in the shop, other than the middle-aged woman who was behind the till. There was no who else who obviously worked there. I wanted to turn and leave and never look back but I was more worried about appearing foolish in front of Larry than being dismissed, so I straightened my skirt, made sure my peach T-shirt was tucked in and went to join the line.
    As I walked across the shop I noticed how shiny the dark wooden floor was and wondered how many people had passed through over the years.
    When I reached the line there were two people in front on me. A man in a green tweed jacket, who looked like he might be a doctor, was being served. He had grey hair and a kind face. I imagined myself serving him and I liked the idea of it. Between us stood a young woman who was absorbed in the book she was holding. She wore a smart grey skirt suit and her brown hair in a neat bun on the top of her head. She had an air of intelligence about her that I admired even though it