One cant go broke from a little generosity
Chris, have you lost your tongue? Or are you waiting for your mother to take the settee out along with us?
Claire, must you start in the hallway? Chris muttered, shifting awkwardly. Mum only popped in for a cuppa. We sat and chatted. I didnt even notice shed left, I was in the loo.
The loo, of course Claire repeated, narrowing her eyes and pointing at the chest of drawers in the hallway. Ill ask once more. There was a bag. A sturdy, black one. Where is it? Has it vanished into thin air? Or perhaps its sprouted legs and walked off? Out with it, Chris. You know full well your mother cant help herself from carrying off anything thats not nailed down.
Why must it always be my mum blamed for everything? Maybe you moved it yourself. Or maybe Mum took it perhaps she thought it was rubbish Chris shrank into himself.
Claire knew that tone. She knew if Chris couldnt look her in the eye, he was lying. Shed already guessed the truth. Linda Edwards, his mother, had come around, decided the bag was rubbish, and Chris hadnt said a word. That was just like them.
Rubbish?! Chris, those were things for Sophie! Some of them brand new, labels still on! Id set them aside ready to take to herput them by the door on purpose! Id promised already! How am I to explain this? That my mother-in-laws a magpie, and my own husband helps her loot our house?
Hot anger flared within Claire. Disrupted plans were one thing. But shed truly meant to help Sophie. Sophie had been left alone with two children and her ex-husbands debt. She had to tramp about in trainers through the frost because her old boots had fallen apart and there wasnt a penny spare for new ones. Shed make meat patties mostly from bread and skip dinner altogether, sacrificing her portion for her children and guests. Shed never say this outright, but Claire understood all too well.
It cost Claire little to help. Sophie refused money, so the least she could do was bring food and clothing. There was always plenty; sometimes a new dress would shrink after its first wash, or shed simply go off something, and every six months Claire cleared her wardrobe, taking what she could to Sophie.
But this time, something had gone wrong. Maybe Claire would have let it slide, but by now shed had enough. This was far from the first time it had happened.
It had all started, as usual, with little things.
Two years ago, Claire had received a bonus and treated herself to an expensive moisturising cream. Imagine her shock when, next day, she unscrewed the jar to find an ugly gouge scored through its smooth surface.
Oh, I simply popped in for tea and noticed your pot. My skins so terribly dry, you see. Thought Id try itif its any good Id pick one up too, Linda said, all too innocently, when Claire confronted her. Surely you dont mind? I only used a smidgen.
A smidgen, perhaps. But Linda would often break out in cold sores and her complexion bloomed dreadfully, worse than roses. Claire had thrown the cream out, unwilling to share bacteria with someone so careless about hygiene.
Then came the perfume Chris had bought Claire for their anniversary. Not cheap, laced with woody, Oriental notes. Claire came home early one day to find Linda in the hallway, reeking so strongly of her perfume it was as if shed taken a bath in it.
Once again, Claire bit her tongue. Shed been raised not to make a scene. She felt that if she started lecturing an older woman about the basics of decency, shed become that petty, spiteful daughter-in-law so lampooned in jokes.
Worst of all had been the slow cooker. Six months prior, Claire and Chris had bought a new smart one controllable by phone. They packed up the old one and put it away. You never knowit might come in handy, could be taken to the cottage for the parents, or even sold. Or perhaps the new model would end up not that great after all.
A week later, the box was gone.
Chris, wheres the slow cooker? she asked.
Mum took it, Chris replied casually, glued to his PlayStation.
Took it? What do you mean?
She asked what the box was. I told her it was the old slow cooker. She said, why clutter up the place with junk, it just gets dusty. Asked if she could have it, said her friends broke. So I said all right.
Claire was floored. Shed bought that slow cooker before their marriage, and Chris was handing off what wasnt just hisor at least not only hisas lightly as one would give away a sweet wrapper. Not a word, not a whisper for permission Just because his mum fancied it.
It seemed the same had happened to the clothes meant for Sophie.
Call her, Claire said crisply. Your mother. Well find out what shes done with my things.
Claire, its awkward… its late. Mum will be resting, she goes to bed early, Chris lowered his eyes. Well, she took them, she took them. You wanted rid anyway…
Oh, its awkward for you… Fine, Ill ring her. But mind this: I shant keep tolerating and smiling along. If you cant keep your home safe from your mums raids, then Ill do it myself.
Claire grabbed her phone and stalked off to the lounge. The dial tone echoed. For a moment, a traitorous thought crept in that she might let things be, but not now. She had to stand her ground or next time Linda would carry her off for good.
Hello? Is that you, Claire? asked the mother-in-law, sounding as feeble as a dying swan. Id just nodded off. Is something wrong?
Yes, somethings wrong. Mrs Edwards, wheres that black bag that was on the chest of drawers?
Oh, those old rags? I took them. Thought you were binning them. Youre always buying things, wasting money, then tossing out clothes. My friends daughter, Hannah, is about your size, poor girls been wearing the same puffer coat five winters now, all torn inside. This will do her good; no use letting things go to waste! At least it helps someone
Mrs Edwards, giving is when you give whats yours, Claire said through clenched teeth. Taking others things without asking is called theft. That bag was meant for my friend who needs help just as much as your friends daughter.
Oh, come now! huffed Linda. What theft? Im your husbands mother, were family. Whats mine is yours, and vice versa. And anyway, you wont go broke, will you? Your salary can stand a few new outfits. Dont be so mean-spirited.
The creature that had stirred inside Claire for years finally broke free of etiquettes leash.
Well then I wont argue. If you dont understand kindness, perhaps its time for something harsher. Tomorrow, Ill have a chap round to fit CCTV in every room
What?! her mother-in-law burst in.
Exactly! And if you, Mrs Edwards, take even a cotton wool pad next time without asking, Ill go to the police with the recording and make a formal complaint. I dont care whose mother you are. The law sees you as a citizen, and what youve done as theft.
Youyou mustve gone mad! Rude girl! Ill never set foot in your house again! Ill tell Chris the kind of viper hes married!
Do as you please. Goodbye.
Claire hung up and flung the phone onto the sofa. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing out noisily to calm herself. When she turned, she saw Chris standing in the doorway, giving her that lost, uncertain look.
Claire he began cautiously. Was that really necessary? Cameras? The police… Its Mum, after all. So maybe she was out of line, who hasnt been? In our family, everythings considered communal. And what difference does it make who the help goes to anyway?
Communal, is it? Claires eyes flicked to the telly, beneath which sat Chriss pride and joyhis latest game console.
Oi, what are you doing? he snapped to attention.
You know, Chris she said with a calculating calm. Upstairs, on the fifth floor, that poor family with the young lad. Drunken father, mothers a schoolteacher. That polite boy doesnt even have a half-decent phone, just a shattered screen. And you play your console maybe twice a week. Its just gathering dust
Claire took a deliberate step forward.
So Ill just take it now and give it to that boy. He needs it more. You can afford another one with your salarywont break the bank. Its the charitable thing to do. Were family, everythings common, is that right?
Chris leapt up, blocking her from the console.
Have you lost your mind?! Thats mine! I saved up for six months! What boy?!
Ah! Claire stepped back, a lopsided smile on her lips. Touched a nerve, did I? Not so nice, is it, when someone else decides whats yours, what you need, and what you dont?
Chris froze, breathing hard, face flushed with hurt pride. Slowly, comprehension dawned in his eyes. A harsh lesson, but effective. For the first time, he felt how things stood in Claires shoes, and he didnt like it one bit.
All right, all right. I get it, he said quietly. Ill… Ill talk to Mum.
Ive already spoken to your mother. Your job is to back me up and not get in my way. Otherwise, the next act of charity will be at your expense. And I dont joke about such things.
A month passed.
For three weeks, a cold curtain hung between Claire and her mother-in-law. On the fourth, Linda tried to lift it by calling her son.
Chrissy, darling I baked some cherry pies. Your favourite, so soft they melt in the mouth! Let me pop over and bring you some for breakfast?
Chris, poking at sausage and mash, swallowed hard. His stomach growled. Of course Mum knew how to tempt him.
Weve already had breakfast, Mum, he replied uncertainly, glancing at Claire.
Oh, well, have them for supper then! After work, come home to a bit of Mums home cooking.
Chris hesitated. The offer was tempting, but the image of his console flashed before him, alongside Claires warning.
No, Mum, he said at last, waving aside temptations, no need to bring anything. Best not to visit right now.
Chris! his mother exclaimed. You wont even let your own Mum cross the threshold? Over a bag of old clothes?
Mum, lets not argue Well see you on Saturday. Ill come round or well go to the café. You can give me some pies then, if theres any left. But for now no visitors. Claire and I agreed, no guests at home.
I see how it is. Henpecked!
She hung up with a short beep. Silence fell. Claire, no longer pretending indifference, put down her phone and looked at Chris.
Thank you.
Oh, its nothing, he said gruffly. Mums pies are lovely, but peace and quiet at home are worth much more.
Alas, there was no real reconciliation with Linda Edwards. In fact, she kept trying to breach their defences and worm her way into their flat. But now, the boundaries of their family were locked tight. And though it cost them a few cherry pies, it also cost them many fewer quarrels.
