The Crocodile Handbag
Saturday was peaceful. A light rain trickled down the windows, and the flat carried the scent of freshly brewed tea and that quiet weekend calm when you can finally unwind. Emily settled into the worn armchairpassed down from her grandmother, its cushions sagging with ageand cradled her favourite mug. The warmth seeped into her hands.
This is bliss, she thought, inhaling the teas fragrance. No distractions, no talk of work or money, no lectures about how its about time for this or that. Just her, a hot drink, and a new show on her tablet.
These quiet moments had become her refuge lately. James, her husband, had been out of work for three months, and the house had turned into a battleground of unspoken frustrations. He spent his days glued to the computerplaying games, watching football, supposedly job-hunting, though the screen rarely showed anything resembling a job search.
Love! Jamess voice shattered the silence like a firework. You wont believe it! Mums chosen her anniversary gift!
He bounded into the room, grinning like a schoolboy whod aced a test. Emily reluctantly looked up from her screen. Something in his tone set off warning bells.
A crocodile leather handbag! James went on, oblivious to her scepticism. Shes wanted one for ages!
Emily set her mug down carefully and narrowed her eyes.
A crocodile leather handbag? Did she pick it herself, or was she nudged? And has she considered what animal rights activists might say?
The sarcasm flew right over his head.
Shes my mother! She deserves it!
Deserves it? Emily felt her chest tighten. What exactly has she done to earn that? Fine, she raised youbut Ive got my own parents. How much does this gift cost?
James coughed, suddenly sheepish.
Oh, not much about five of your monthly wages.
Emilys stomach dropped.
Five of my wages? she repeated, her voice icy.
Well, its genuine Nile crocodile, not some knock-off, he said, as if that explained everything.
And why are you telling me this? I couldnt care less.
James shifted uncomfortably.
Well I put it on credit.
On credit? Her tone was lethally calm.
Yeah. Big thanks to my sister Lucyshe sorted it. Works at the bank, got it all sorted in no time
In whose name?
A horrible realisation dawned on Emily.
Well yours. Who else? I just used your details
Emily stood slowly, her hands trembling. She wanted to throttle him. Or at least hurl something heavy at his head.
So, James, darlingyouve been jobless for months, decide to spoil your mum, and Im the one footing the bill?
James took a step back, sensing danger.
Emily, its just how it worked out Youre the one with the steady income
I am working! And instead of job-hunting, instead of providing like a proper husband, you sit around like a teenager on holiday and think I need this extra burden?
Emily, dont overreact! Its just a loanno harm done
Just then, his mother, Margaret, made her usual grand entrance. She always popped in to see the kids, though really it was to dispense unsolicited advice.
Whats all the fuss? she asked, sweeping in like she owned the place.
Nothing, Mum. Emilys just a bit cross about the loan, James whined.
Whats there to be cross about? Margaret plonked into a chair, arms folded. Families help each other. Its your duty.
Is it? Emily said flatly. So my duty is to fund lavish gifts, and yours is to enjoy them?
Whats the issue? You earn well, Margaret said dismissively.
Right. And James? Whats his contribution?
James is my sonand your husband. You should stand by him.
Husband? Emily laughed bitterly. Is that what you call a man who takes loans in his wifes name because he cant be bothered to work? Whos leeching off me?
Emily! James protested. Thats out of order! Were a family!
Fine, Emily said, pressing her lips together. Ill sort it myself tomorrow. And trust me, itll be sorted.
She smiled faintly, a glint in her eye that made James uneasy. She already had a plan.
Good girl, Margaret nodded approvingly.
The next day, Emily workedand made a few discreet calls. By evening, shed arranged a meeting.
That night, she greeted James with a sweet smile.
James, love! Ive got news!
Oh? Whats that? He lounged on the sofa, oblivious.
Ive paid off the loan for that crocodile handbag.
Seriously? Brilliant! He nearly leapt up. Knew youd sort it! How?
Easy. I sold your car.
James froze.
You what? My car?
Sold it. Quick and cheap. Got just enough to clear that ridiculous debt.
Have you lost the plot?! How am I supposed to get around?
Emily smiled sweetly.
Ride the handbag like a horse. I read some are made from special leather. Maybe Mums can transform into a suitcase if you stroke it right?
James turned puce.
You cant do this! Tell me its a joke! That was my car! And you flogged it for peanuts?!
Now youre car-free, Im debt-free, and your mums got her bag. Fair trade, no?
Margaret stormed in, drawn by the shouting.
What on earths going on?
Mum, Emilys sold my car! James wailed.
So? Emily shrugged. Loans are family business. Your words.
That was a step too far! You had no rightits his! Margaret snapped.
Did you ask before taking a loan in my name? Emily countered. Now were even.
This is disgraceful! Who does she think she is? Margaret spluttered.
Disgraceful is treating me like a walking wallet, Emily shot back.
James tried to mediate.
Emily, think! Were a familywe stick together!
A family? Then since youre the dead weight, pack your bags and move in with your mum. Let her feed you and pay your bills. Ill enjoy the peace.
Emily picked up her tablet, signalling the conversation was over. After a pause, she added:
Oh, and Margaretgive that handbag a gentle rub. Who knows what it might turn into.
Two days later, James, worn down by the rows, moved out. Margaret fumed. Emily ignored her.
For the first time in ages, she breathed easy. Theyd finally got the messageshe wasnt to be trifled with.
Outside, the rain continued, but now the quiet was truly hers.
