“I warned youwherever you took the money, thats where youll have dinner! And breakfast too, for that matter,” declared his wife, settling into her armchair with her knitting.
“Lucy! Are you home?” called Richard as he stepped inside their flat.
“Im in the kitchen,” replied Lucy.
Shed come home early today and had started preparing supper. Richard took off his coat, washed his hands, and joined her.
“So, why arent you bragging?” he asked.
“Brag about what?” Lucy said, surprised.
“Well, I ran into Rita from your department on the way home. She told me you got your quarterly bonus today. A hefty one.”
“We did, yes. But why should that make you happy?”
“Why? I told you yesterdayMum rang, asking if we could help Sophie with her mortgage. You said we had no money. Now we do. Lets send Sophie ten grand,” Richard suggested.
“Whats the occasion?” Lucy asked pointedly.
“Dont act like you dont know. Sophies struggling to pay the mortgage alone. Ill call Mum right now and tell her well transfer the money,” Richard said, reaching for his phone.
“Stop! Hold on! Did I say I was willing to pay your sisters mortgage?” Lucy cut in.
“Why wouldnt we help if we can afford it?”
“First of all, the money isnt *ours*its *mine*. A bonus I worked my fingers to the bone for over three months!”
“Do you think, Richard, I slaved away just to make your sister happy? Was that my only goal?”
“Lucy, she has kids!”
“Richard, *we* have a child too. Emilyour daughter, in case youve forgottenis in her second year at uni, living in halls in another city. *I* send her money every month. Have you given her a single penny in the last two years?”
“I knew you were sending her enough.”
“Maybe shed like a thousand quid from her *father* for new tights, ever think of that?” Lucy shot back. “And your sister shouldve thought harder before signing up for a mortgage she couldnt handle.”
“But the bank approved her,” Richard argued.
“Exactly. Banks employ clever people who know how to count. They worked out Sophie *should* have enough. If she doesnt, shes spending it wrongsalons and cafés instead of paying down the loan. Im not funding her little luxuries!”
That evening, Richard overheard Lucy telling her mother over the phone that shed just transferred eight thousand pounds.
“Interestingno money for Sophie, but for your mum, no problem?” Richard huffed.
“Thats right, Richard. Mums dentures broke, and she needs to see the dentist. Her pensions not exactly generous. Besides, shes *my* mother. Sophies nothing to me.”
“Sophies my *own sister*!” Richard reminded her.
“Exactly*yours*, not mine. So why come at me about it?”
“Fine. Ill get paid next week and send Sophie the money myself,” Richard snapped.
“Go ahead. Just transfer the usual ten grand to the household account first,” Lucy replied.
“Lucy, Ive been meaning to askis ten grand really necessary? Cant it be less?”
“It can. But then supper will be pasta with ketchup instead of homemade meatballs or steak. Or we could skip the utilities and laundry detergent,” Lucy said with a smirk.
“Cant we budget better so we can afford everything?”
“Feel free to try. If you manage it, Ill take notes.”
The conversation ended there. But Richard, for some reason, assumed Lucy wouldnt follow through and sent nearly his entire salary to Sophie.
He was wrong. The next evening, returning from work, he found no sign of supper in the kitchen.
“Lucy, whats for dinner?” he asked.
“Check the fridge,” she replied.
Richard opened itbare, except for a lonely bottle of ketchup in the door and two wrinkled apples in the crisper.
“Lucy, theres nothing here.”
“Really? What *should* be there? Did *you* put anything in?” she asked. “You do know that to take something out, you have to put something in first?”
“Come on, Im starving,” Richard groaned.
“I can tell. But I *did* warn youwherever you took the money, thats where youll eat. Breakfast included,” Lucy said, picking up her knitting.
Richard had no choice but to head to his mothers.
The next day, his motherDianacame over to lecture Lucy.
After a long rant, Lucy calmly said,
“You wasted your breath, Diana. Nothing you said was news. I already know Im a terrible wife. Maybe Richard should move in with you? What use am I to him?”
“Dont talk nonsense! You married him, so live with him!” Diana snapped.
“Right. *Im* the problem. Never mind that *I* have a nice flat, a great salary, and bonuses. The real issue? I wont share with you and Sophie!”
“So youve emptied my sons pockets? Fineyou support him this month. Just remember: he wont eat sausages. Turns his nose up at chicken too. So for suppersteak, roast potatoes, and salad. Or stuffed peppers, but extra meat. Oh, and youll do his laundry too.”
“Lucy, have you lost your mind? You managed before!” Diana exclaimed.
“We did. Sometimes even quite welluntil you stuck your nose in. Broke up Sophie and Greg, and now its our turn?”
“What are you on about? Who did *I* break up?” Diana fumed.
“Who else? Dripping poison in Sophies earGregs no good, earns too little, wrong education, tiny flat Drove him off! Now Sophies alone with two kids and a crushing mortgage. Happy now?”
“Apparently not! You got bored and moved on to us. But Im not GregI wont put up with it. You can have Richard back. Look after him yourselfwho better than his own mother? Right, Richard?”
“Lucy, no! I never wanted to leave you! Mum just suggested helping Sophie,” Richard stammered.
“Help her, then. Until payday, youll live with Mum or Sophiethey can decide. Ill think things over.”
Richard realised Lucy wasnt joking. He spent the rest of the month at his mothers.
On payday, he returned home.
“Lucy, Ive transferred my salary and sent Emily three grand,” he announced at the door.
The mouth-watering aroma of sweet-and-sour pork wafted from the kitchen.
“Wash your hands and sit down to eat,” Lucy smiled. “Or are you going back to Mums?”
Richards eyes widened in panic. He shook his head frantically, tongue-tied with fear. Lucy smirkedno need for words.
Some lessons just stuck. And if he ever forgot, shed happily remind him. Theyd picked the wrong woman to mess with.
