Read Online The Optician's Wife by Betsy Reavley - Free Book Online

stabbed her eyes out?’ He seemed strangely aroused.
    ‘Really? That’s disgusting. I wonder why anyone would want to kill an old woman?’
    ‘She wasn’t that old,’ Larry laughed.
    ‘No, I suppose not.’
    ‘Probably had it coming after the way she treated you.’
    As we walked along the road past Parker’s Piece he spotted a bench and suggested we sat and basked in the warmth for a moment.
    The slats on the bench were warm against my pale bare legs. The shorts I’d got from Topshop were a little tight around my waist. I noticed my stomach bulge over the top of the denim and tugged on the white T-shirt to disguise it.
    Larry put his arm around my shoulder and slid closer to me.
    ‘I’ve been thinking Dee,’ he was looking out over the green, watching a group of young men kick a football, ‘I think we should get married.’
    A first I thought he was joking and laughed but when he turned to look at me I could see he was deadly serious.
    ‘I could tell you were a virgin when we met. I liked that about you. Not like the other girls, all putting it about and opening their legs for anyone.’
    ‘Was I bad?’
    ‘No. We need to keep practising, but that’s not what I meant. You haven’t been spoilt, tainted by anyone else. I don’t like the idea of you ever being with another man. You and me, we are good together. I think it makes sense to get married. What do you say?’
    I’d read about romantic proposals in books and always wondered what it would be like. Larry had not exactly swept me off my feet by suggesting it off the cuff, sitting on a bench. He didn’t even have a ring.
    ‘Well, either you want to be my wife or you don’t.’ He grinned at me and I melted.
    ‘OK.’ I couldn’t believe anyone wanted to marry me. Let alone someone as handsome and clever as Larry. I was in shock.
    ‘Is that a yes?’
    ‘Yes. It’s a yes.’ I wanted to cry.
    ‘Perfect. We’ll tell my mum and dad at lunch.’ Larry put his hand on my knee and gave it a squeeze.
     
    His family home was halfway down Mackenzie Road, off the top of Mill Road. Hollydene was a terraced brick Victorian house with a bay window and neat, tiled front garden. A large pot with a small pruned bay tree sat next to the mid-blue front door. There were no chips on the paint.
    ‘There’s a path down there on the right that leads into the cemetery. I’ll take you there after lunch if you like,’ Larry signalled with his head while he slipped his key into the lock. ‘Ma, I’m back,’ he called out, ushering me in to the hallway.
    The first thing I noticed was the smell of home cooking. The waft of a chicken roasting in the oven filled the house.
    ‘Come in, come in.’ Larry’s mother appeared, wiping her hands on a tea-towel.
    She was a tall slim woman and I could see the family resemblance. Her hair was short and dark. She wore a patterned blue and green dress that swished whenever she moved.
    ‘Ma, this is Dee.’
    ‘Hello, Dee. I’m Mrs Miller, but please call me Linda. Well, it’s really lovely to meet you. Larry hasn’t stopped talking about you.’
    ‘Nice to meet you, Mrs Miller.’ My throat felt unnaturally dry.
    ‘Linda, I insist.’ She gave a wide smile, showing all her large teeth. ‘Come on through and have a seat in the dining room.’
    As I followed Mrs Miller through the hallway, past the lounge and into the dining room it occurred to me that I was meeting my future mother-in-law. The idea scared me senseless. What if she didn’t approve?
    ‘Is Eric joining us?’
    ‘No. He’s not.’ Linda turned to her son and they shared a relieved look.
     
    Lunch was long. Mr and Mrs Miller sat at either end of the table with Larry and I sandwiched between them. She was warm, the perfect hostess. Mr Miller didn’t say much. He just chewed his food.
    The chicken was the size of a turkey. I’d never seen such a big one. Mrs Miller placed it proudly on the table and asked Larry to carve. She and Mr Miller could barely