**The Crocodile Handbag**
Saturday was peaceful. A light rain traced lazy paths down the windows, and the flat smelled of fresh tea and that quiet weekend relief after a long week. Emily curled up in the old armchairthe one theyd inherited from Gran, with its sagging cushions and frayed edgesand cradled her favourite mug. The warmth seeped into her fingers. *This is bliss*, she thought, inhaling the teas scent. No chatter about work, no money talk, no nagging about when are you going to Just her, a hot cuppa, and a new show on her tablet.
These quiet moments had been her lifeline lately. James, her husband, hadnt worked in three months, and the house had become a minefield of unspoken tension. He spent his days glued to the computergaming, watching football, job hunting (though the screen rarely showed anything resembling a CV).
Love! James voice shattered the calm like a firework. Youll never guessMums picked her anniversary gift!
He bounded in, grinning like a kid whod aced a spelling test. Emily dragged her eyes from the screen. Something in his tone set off alarm bells.
A crocodile leather handbag! he announced, oblivious. Shes wanted one for ages!
Emily set her mug down slowly. A crocodile handbag? Did she choose that herself, or was it *helpfully* suggested? And did she consider the animal rights lot might have something to say?
The sarcasm sailed right over him. Shes my mum! She deserves it!
Deserves it? Emily felt her chest tighten. For what, exactly? Raising you? *Ive* got my own parents, thanks. And how much is this gift?
James coughed, suddenly fascinated by the ceiling. Oh, peanuts, really About five of your monthly wages.
Emilys stomach dropped. Five *what*?
Well, its proper Nile crocodile, not some fake stuff, he said, as if that explained everything.
And why tell *me*? I couldnt care less.
James shuffled his feet. Well I put it on credit.
On *credit*? Her voice went eerily calm.
Yeah. Cheers to my sis Lucyshe sorted it. Works at the bank, got it done in a flash
In whose name?
A horrible suspicion settled over her.
Well yours. Who else? Just borrowed your details
Emily stood up slowly. She wanted to throttle him. Or at least chuck the teapot at his head.
So, James *darling*, youve been jobless for months, decide to spoil Mummy, and *Im* footing the bill?
James took a step back, sensing danger. Em, it just made sense! Youre the only one earning
*Exactly*. While you sit there like a teenager on summer break, mooching off me, and now youve saddled me with *your* debt?
Dont blow a gasket! Its just a loan
Right on cue, his mother, Margaret, swept in. She always popped round to see the kids, but really, it was to nitpick.
Whats all the fuss? she demanded, arms folded like a headmistress.
Nothing, Mum. Ems just stressed about the loan, James muttered.
Why stress? Family helps family, Margaret said, plonking onto the sofa.
Explain how *my* wages funding *your* luxuries is helping? Emily snapped.
You earn well. Whats the issue?
And James? Whats *his* contribution?
Hes my sonand your *husband*. You should stand by him.
Husband? Emily barked a laugh. A husband doesnt leech off his wife and commit fraud in her name!
Emily! James yelped. Thats out of order! Were a *team*!
Right. She smiled thinly. Ill sort it tomorrow. And trust me, *everyone* will be happy.
Something in her tone made James pale. She already had a plan.
Good girl, Margaret cooed.
The next day, Emily workedand made a few calls. That evening, she greeted James with a sugary smile.
James, love! News!
Oh? He perked up.
Ive paid off the handbag loan.
No way! Youre a star! How?
Simple. I sold your car.
James went rigid. You *what*?!
Got just enough to clear the debt. Quick sale.
Have you lost it?! How am I supposed to get about?
She batted her lashes. Ride the handbag. Heard some are made from *very* stretchy leather. Maybe Mums is one?
James turned puce. You cant do that! It was *mine*!
Margaret stormed in. Whats this nonsense?
Emily flogged my car! he wailed.
Brilliant, isnt it? Emily beamed. Family helps family, *right*?
Youve overstepped! That was *his*! Margaret spluttered.
Like the loan was *mine*? Emily crossed her arms. Fairs fair.
This is *outrageous*! Margaret hissed.
Outrageous is you two treating me like a piggy bank.
James tried again. Em, think! Were *family*!
Then heres the plan: since youre dead weight, pack your bags and live with Mum. Let *her* fund your laziness. Im done.
She grabbed her tablet, signalling the chat was over. After a beat, she added sweetly, Oh, Margaretgive that bag a good rub. Might turn into a suitcase.
Two days later, James slunk off to his mums. Margaret huffed and puffed. Emily ignored them.
For the first time in ages, she breathed easy. Message received: dont mess with her.
Outside, the rain kept fallingbut now, the quiet was *hers*.
