Its funny how the smallest things can haunt a marriage, even after all those years. I still hear Emilys voice that night, trembling as she tried to explain where the bracelet had gone.
Where have you hidden it, love? Did you lose it, or pawn it? I asked, my eyebrows climbing. The room fell silent, the air thick with something that felt absurd.
Her mother took it, Emily lowered her eyes, and the words seemed to hang in the air.
Taken? I repeated, bewildered. What do you mean?
She swallowed. She asked me to try it on, then said it suited her. I didnt feel right refusingshes my mother, after all.
I stared at her as if I were seeing her for the first time. I knew Emily was gentle, but I hadnt imagined she could be so pliant.
So she just walked off with it? Emily, how could she? I pressed, halfironically. I had always wanted my wife never to need anything from me; now I could finally afford that, yet Emily seemed incapable of doing the same.
We had met in our first year at university through a circle of mutual friends. Back then I was naïve, dreaming of a bright future. I came from a modest background and swore I would always give my wife and children the very best, even though I had no clue how to deliver on that promise. Emily, on the other hand, had no grand ambitions but a golden heart. I realised I was in love when she once brought me a thermos of hot soup while I was lying feverish in bed.
Serge told me you were ill. I thought Id drop by, she whispered, sliding off her shoes.
Dont bother, I protested. Youll catch it too.
She smiled. If we both get sick well keep each other warm. Im not a sugar cubeI wont melt away.
In Emily I saw the woman who could hold the fort, a kindness that required no calculation because she liked me and wanted to care for me.
Within a year we were sharing a cramped flat in a rundown part of Manchester. The kitchen was tiny, the fridge hummed constantly, the tap leaked, and the occasional cockroach made a cameo. We survived sleepless nights before exams, hustled through parttime jobsme lugging boxes in a warehouse, her serving tables at a local café.
We learned that instant noodles werent cheap, that a hospital stay for gallstones could leave us penniless, and that we often had to borrow from our parents or friends. Luckily, my mates were generous, slipping me odd jobspainting a garden fence for a few quid, helping on a building site, anything that kept a roof over our heads. Emily tried to pitch in, but Id always warned, If youre hauling coal youll break a bone; our treatment costs are already high enough.
When we finally earned our degrees, I drifted through a string of deadend jobs until a friend introduced me to a junior position at a large firm in London. The hours were brutal, weekends were sacrificed, and the workload never eased. Emily, meanwhile, kept the flat spotless, cooked my favourite dishes, tended to our ageing terrier, and even looked after the dog after it could no longer walk.
Nothing lasts forever, shed say when things got rough. And for a while they didnt. When I was promoted to head of logistics, responsibilities multiplied, but I felt the love waiting at home like a warm fire.
We eventually moved into our own house in Surrey, bought a modest car, a small garden plot, and started furnishing with brandnew pieces from the high street rather than secondhand finds on Gumtree. We upgraded our wardrobe, took holidays abroad instead of staying with relatives in the countryside, and I began buying Emily gifts beyond chocolatescashmere coats, leather bags, gold jewelleryjust because it was a Friday evening or my mood was bright. She blushed at the price tags, but I enjoyed pulling her out of her frugal routine.
At first everything glittered. She adored a new perfume, wore designer clothes, cooked with a multicooker that boasted more functions than a spaceship. Then, slowly, the old habits resurfaced. She dug out a battered cooker, her handbag cracked at the seams, the perfume vanished into some drawer. I wondered why she would keep wearing shoes that dug into her heels when a finer pair sat in the cupboard.
The opportunity to test her came at a colleagues birthday. Simon invited us over, and I bought Emily a gold bracelet and sapphire earrings, hoping shed shine for the evening.
Wear the dress we bought on Friday, and the jewellery I gave you last week, I urged. Theyll look splendid together.
She stammered, saying the bracelet had broken, that shed handed it to a jeweller, but couldnt say where. Then she confessed her mother had taken the goldnothing less than the whole set.
So everything I bought you ended up in your mothers hands? I pressed, feeling the sting. Emily, are you serious? Cant you argue back?
She looked away. I tried. She gets angry, says she raised me, that I owe her everything. She claims no one else will give me such gifts, and that I wont lose anything by keeping them.
I covered my face with my hands, feeling robbed not of jewellery but of respect. Fine, I sighed. From now on Ill only give you things that wont be whisked away to your mother within a week.
She fell silent; there was nothing more to say. Emily was easy to sway with manipulation, and I knew a gentle rebuke would achieve little. I accepted her as she was.
The truth was, if I wanted warmth in our home, the leak I needed to plug wasnt Emilyit was her mother, Margaret Thompson. Margaret was loud, meddlesome, and everpresent. Id met her shortly after I started dating Emily.
I dont mean to intrude, but shed begin, then launch into a sermon of unsolicited advice.
Margaret worked as an accountant; her husband kept a low profile, earning a modest wage. From day one she tried to insert herself into our lives, dropping by at eight in the morning, sometimes crashing our romantic evenings. One night, when she turned up unannounced, I simply refused her entry. Emily paled, whispered that it was her mother, but I held my ground.
Yes, Mum, I said, but we didnt expect you. Please let us arrange visits in advance.
Margaret soon shifted from doortodoor interference to guilttripping, cultivating a sense of indebtedness in Emily.
Oh, what lovely perfume you have! No one else gives me anything like that. May I borrow it for a week? Lucys birthday is near; Ill spritz myself and be the envy of everyone. Youre not sorry for your mother, are you? Ive always given you everything.
How to stop a thief when the theft is emotional? Emilys birthday was approaching, and I decided on a new tactic.
When everyone gathered around the table, I rose and handed Emily a small envelope.
Sunshine, this is for you. I know youve always wanted to visit Italy. Have a proper holiday, on me.
Margarets eyes lit up. Oh! How delightful. Ive always wanted to bask on the Italian coast, see the monuments!
Wanting isnt a crime, I replied, but Margaret, the second ticket is mine. Youll travel with me. Im not the easiest companionI snore loudly, blast music at night, and wander the room in my underwear. Are you prepared?
Laughter erupted. Emily lowered her gaze, a shy smile tugging at her lips. Margaret blushed, pursed her mouth, and left early, disappearing before dessert. I smiled too, for that night I received two gifts: my wifes genuine smile and my motherinlaws quiet retreat.
