David, I need your help with Mums birthday present.
Emily placed her phone on the table and turned to her husband, who was lounging across the sofa with the TV remote in hand. David clicked lazily through the channels, eyes fixed on the screen.
What sort of present?
An oven. A proper, quality one. Her birthdays in two weeks dont tell me youve forgotten.
David finally bothered to look at his wife. Brief annoyance flickered in his eyes, but he smothered it with a tired smile.
Does the old one not work? Looks fine to me.
Emily perched herself on the arm of the sofa, absent-mindedly smoothing her house dress.
You saw it last time, didnt you? The oven barely heats, and only two burners work at all. Mums forever complaining that her cakes turn out uneven. It means a lot to her, you know that.
Margaret Williams loved baking. Her kitchen always smelled of vanilla and cinnamon, with warm rolls cooling on the windowsill, and neighbours popped in for a cuppa, knowing they’d always leave with a treat. The battered old cooker she’d had since her council flat days was on its last legs.
Fine, David stretched and sat up. What do you need me to do?
Pick a decent model. You understand appliances better than I do. Go down to John Lewis, have a look, sort out delivery. I havent got the time with work, honestly.
Emily pulled her card out of her bag and handed it over. The navy bank card gleamed in the lamplight.
My bonus is on here, just over £600. Is that enough for a good oven?
David took the card and twirled it idly in his fingers. He gave a little half smile.
More than enough. Dont worry, Ill sort it all.
Emily nodded; five years married had taught her to leave these practical things to David. He was good at bargains and deals, knew how to charm for a discount. That was his forte.
Just dont leave it till the last minute, yeah? We need the oven delivered before the party.
Ill handle it, David tossed the card into his jogger pocket, reaching again for the remote.
A week passed. Emily was riding home in a packed bus after work when she thought to check her balance on the app. Her thumb swiped the screen, drawing up her bank account.
Outgoing: £600
Emily smiled at the number. David hadnt let her down. Six hundred quid was a proper amount surely he picked something nice, maybe one with a grill and timer, with a fancy self-opening door Margaret always dreamed of. Now Mum would finally bake her famous Victoria sponges without worrying the oven might fail halfway.
Emily pictured her mums face when she saw the gift; the laughter lines pulling tight, lips trembling with happiness, and then true to form Margaret would say her catchphrase: You shouldnt have spent so much, love! Straight away, shed start planning which cake to try first.
Good appliances last years. Emily remembered her gran raving about her old Tricity Bendix that lasted thirty years without a hitch. Modern ovens were a different breed, but so long as you didnt skimp on quality, theyd last ages
Mums birthday landed on Saturday. Emily fussed from morning, gathering a bouquet and wrapping up little additions alongside the main present. David wandered the flat in his dressing gown, checking the clock now and then.
Dont forget the envelope, Emily called, zipping up her boots. The oven paperworks in there, right?
All sorted, David patted his blazer pocket.
They reached Margarets flat by noon. The air was full of the smell of baking even with her temperamental cooker, Mum had managed something tasty. Relatives spilled over in the hallway, glasses clinked, someone giggled from the lounge.
Emily gave her mum a tight hug.
Happy birthday, Mum. This is for you.
She handed over a thick cream envelope, which shed fetched from David on the way. There was no need to peek inside; her husband had arranged it, all she had to do was present the gift.
Margarets face lit up.
Oh, you two, you shouldnt have! She prised open the envelope, eyes shining in anticipation.
Emily watched, smiling. A second passed. Then Margarets smile faded, replaced by puzzled bewilderment.
Whats this?
Emily frowned and leaned to peek over her mothers shoulder.
Voucher for Boots. £30.
Thirty pounds.
David, Emily spun towards her husband, who was already sidling out of the room. Whats this, then?
Come on, its a great voucher, nice cosmetics at Boots
THE OVEN?!
He didnt answer, just made a quick dash for the balcony, slipped outside, and shut the door behind him.
Emily stormed after him. She yanked the balcony door so hard the glass rattled.
Start explaining. Now!
David pressed himself against the railings.
Look, Sophies been working herself into an early grave, she really needs a break and I just couldnt
What break? What Sophie? Emily stepped closer, her eyes blazing. I gave you money for an oven for my mum!
There was a last-minute deal, you get it? £570, all-inclusive to Spain It wouldve gone to waste otherwise, you understand.
Emily snatched his phone from his pocket before he could react. Her thumbs flew over the screen, scrolling through his messages. The travel agent chat opened: dates, amounts, excited messages from his sister Sophie with hearts and smiley faces.
Best brother ever!!! Thanks a million! Flying Friday!
Emily stared at David, who looked ready to vanish into the brickwork.
She dialed the agency without a word. There was a ring, then another.
Hello, Horizon Travel, this is Helen. How can I help?
Hello. Im calling about a booking for Sophie Williams, Spain, flying Friday. Id like to cancel.
Sorry, and you are?
Im the cardholder who paid. The transaction was made without my consent.
David tried to leap forward, but Emily stopped him with a slice of her hand.
One moment, the agent replied, voice professional. Ive found the booking. In this case, youll need to come into our office, and well arrange the refund, which should arrive within ten working days.
Thank you. Ill come tomorrow.
Emily hung up and tossed the phone to her husband.
Emily, dont be daft. Cant we talk
But she was already gone. She strode through the lounge, eyes of relatives quietly pretending to be occupied with their salads. Emily approached her mother, who clutched the ill-fated Boots voucher.
Mum, lets go and get you a proper present.
Margaret didnt argue. She slipped on her coat, grabbed her handbag, and followed her daughter, not even glancing back at the guests.
The electronics shop smelt of plastic and new gadgets. The assistant a young guy with a badge reading Alex explained the differences between models without rushing.
This ones our best, Alex pointed to a sparkling white oven. Brilliant for baking. Even heat, built-in timer and grill, convection fan.
Margaret stroked the smooth surface.
Shes a beauty, she murmured.
Well take it, said Emily. Could you deliver tomorrow?
Ive got a slot open, nine till noon.
The paperwork took fifteen minutes. Margaret stayed silent on the journey home, only touching Emilys arm at the door.
Emily, thank you, darling. I just worry about you.
Please dont, Mum.
Its David you two
Emily hugged her.
Ill deal with it. Today is for you. Happy birthday.
Emily didnt get home until after dark. David sat in the lounge, TV switched off, alone in the half-light.
We need to talk, he began, standing up as she entered.
Emily walked past him. She opened the wardrobe, took his shirts from the hanger, folded them in neat piles onto his overnight bag.
What are you doing? David rushed over. Emily, please! I only wanted to help my sister, shes so burnt out at work, this was her one chance!
Jeans, T-shirts, socks Emily methodically emptied the shelves.
Youre destroying our family over a stupid oven! And youll be the only one to blame!
She paused, turned slowly to face him.
I trusted you with money Id earned. I asked for a present for my mum. You blew it all on your sister!
Blew it is pushing it
You didnt even ask! You just decided for me! And then you lied!
David tried to embrace her, but Emily recoiled, holding up his jumper between them like a shield.
Dont touch me!
Sophie was desperate, you must see
Take your things and leave.
A month later, Emily was at Margarets kitchen table. The pristine new oven gleamed in the corner, the oven door safely sealed a golden vanilla sponge, spreading sweet aromas through the flat.
Imagine Ive signed up for bakery classes! Margaret positively glowed. My friend Jean recommended them, led by an actual French chef!
Emily bit into a slice of cake. The soft cream melted on her tongue.
Delicious, Mum. Truly heavenly.
The divorce was swift and quiet. David never understood why his wife wouldnt forgive his little slip-up. Sophie went off to Spain, if she even went at all. Emily stopped caring.
She watched Margaret bustle at the oven, happy and absorbed. Outside, Londons evening descended. Ahead was a different life one without lies, betrayal, or someone who thought trust and hard-earned money were his for the taking.
Emily smiled and reached for another slice. Because, really, why not?
