Free The Optician's Wife by Betsy Reavley Page B

he was the most important thing in my life.
    At the weekends he was spending hours in the shed. His man-den, he called it. I never went in. There was no reason to. He kept his tools in there and tinkered away at this and that. He started to make a bit of extra incoming doing up bikes and selling them for a profit to students.
    On that Saturday he appeared home with a cot.
    ‘I picked it up from the dump.’ He said proudly taking it off the roof of his burgundy car. ‘Bit of work and it will be good as new.’
    I looked at the dilapidated base and pushed away my feeling of bitter disappointment. I wanted something better for our baby.
    ‘Look,’ he sensed my apprehension, ‘it’ll be good as new. I promise. We need to tighten our belts, Dee, especially if you are going to give up work.’
    ‘Give up work?’ It was the first time he’d mentioned it.
    ‘Yes. You need to look after the baby. You can’t manage a job as well.’
    ‘I suppose.’ I hadn’t really thought about it. ‘But how will we afford to live?’
    ‘I’ve spoken to Mr Rook. He’s going to give me a rise as soon as I become a fully qualified optician.’
    I stood in the sunshine on the small concrete driveway that led up to the front of the house and stroked my belly.
    ‘I’ll take care of you both.’ Larry carted the cot towards the gate that led straight into the back garden. I knew he meant it. He was a natural protector. It was one of the things I adored most.
    ‘Put the kettle on, Dee.’ He fiddled in his pocket for his keys. ‘I’m parched.’
    Doing as I was told, I turned and went back into the house while Larry wrestled with the rusty lock.
    As I watched the teabag leak into the water I thought about leaving Woolworths and the idea made me feel sad. I’d never really liked it, but not working there meant I’d hardly ever see Trisha. She had become a good friend.
    Larry appeared in the door way and wiped sweat from his brow with the palm of his hand.
    ‘Hot out there today.’ He took a glass from the cupboard and poured himself some water.
    ‘I’ve been thinking,’ I dropped the teabag into the bin, ‘I thought we could paint the baby’s room yellow. What do you think? I know your mum thinks pale green would be nice but I prefer yellow.’
    ‘Pay no attention to mum. She’s just excited, that’s all.’
    ‘Do you think she’ll ever work things out with your dad?’ I prayed they would.
    ‘Maybe.’ Larry shrugged as I handed him his tea.
    ‘She has been spending a lot of time here.’ I did my best to hide my frustration.
    ‘I know.’ He frowned. ‘I’ll have a word.’
    ‘Thanks.’ I leant heavily against the worktop. ‘I thought maybe we could go shopping for a pram.’
    ‘Not today, Dee. I want to make a start on the cot. Besides we’ve got a while yet and we don’t want it sitting in the hall, getting in the way for the next few months do we?’
    ‘No. I suppose you’re right.’ Larry was always right. I never doubted that.
    ‘Anyway, Eric says he has a friend he might be able to get one off. Probably be stolen but that won’t matter to the baby.’ Larry laughed spilling a little bit of tea. ‘Right, thanks for the tea. I’ll be in the shed for a while.’ I knew that meant stay away.
    ‘But I thought I’d make some sandwiches and we could have lunch together.’
    ‘Maybe later.’ He came over and ruffled my hair with his hand before leaving me alone again.

September 1 st 1984
     
     
    I watched her with her clients. Disgusting whore. In a dark alley, dropping her knickers and letting them fuck her against the rough brick wall. The whole time I kept my eyes on her face. She didn’t smile, didn’t moan, didn’t even react. As if she was standing in a line waiting to pay for her shopping or something. She looked bored. That made me angry. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her. She was going to feel pain and I was going to enjoy it.
     

September 3 rd 1984
     
     
    When I got to work