The Trouble with the Coat
Emma sat at her computer but was staring out the window instead of the screen. The last warm days of September. And yet, her mind wasn’t on the weather—it was on the unexpected bonus she’d just received.
“Ant needs new trainers. The lad’s growing like a weed, burns through everything. And a jacket, but he’ll outgrow it by spring. Maybe I should save for a holiday—finally take him to the seaside next year…” Just then, Sarah walked into the office, cutting off Emma’s train of thought.
“What do you think? Go on, have a look. Just bought this new coat! Worth every penny, don’t you think?” She spread her arms, showing it off. “Well?”
“Are those new boots too? Suede?” asked Lauren, Emma’s desk mate. “One walk in the rain on our pavements, and they’ll be ruined.”
“Maybe I should get a new coat too,” Emma thought. “I’ve had mine four years now. But Mum… She’ll have a fit. I’m nearly forty, and I’m still scared of what she’ll say. For once, I could treat myself. It’s my money, after all. Sarah’s only four years younger, but she acts like she’s a decade ahead. Then again, she doesn’t have a ten-year-old son or a mum who still treats her like a silly little girl.”
Sarah and Lauren were still bickering.
“Oh, come off it. You’re just jealous. I’ll wear my old wellies if it rains. Honestly, you’re such a bore. I’m off to show the girls in accounts,” Sarah huffed, heading for the door.
“Sarah, wait,” Emma called. “Where’d you get it?”
“Interested, are you?” Sarah doubled back to Emma’s desk. “Here.” She pulled a discount card from her pocket. “Address is on there, plus a decent discount.”
“Oh, I was just asking,” Emma stammered, eyeing the card.
“Live a little, Em. Right, I’m off to show the others.” Sarah breezed out, leaving the card on the desk.
“What’s on your mind?” Lauren peered over her monitor.
“Just thinking about a new coat. Got that bonus, might as well.”
Lauren shrugged. “Fancy and impractical. Sarah’s bloke drives her to work. You’d be squashed on the bus at rush hour. And your mum… Oh, Em, she’ll bury you in that coat.”
They both snorted.
“Easy for you to say—you’ve got a husband. New outfits every season. I’ve always put myself last—saving for the flat, groceries, Ant’s never-ending needs. Whatever’s left, I scrape together for myself. Getting something on sale feels like a win.” Emma sighed.
“You’re overthinking it. Just go after work. Though, no offence, you dress like a librarian. Sarah’s a flirt, and men fall for it like fish to bait. But you—you’re gorgeous. A proper stunner with a heart of gold. Dress up a bit, and you’d have them queueing. First impressions count, love. Men are visual creatures. And stop listening to your mum. Treat yourself.” Lauren smiled and ducked behind her screen.
***
Emma married late. With a strict mum—a retired maths teacher—it was a miracle she married at all. She’d spent her life terrified of disappointing her, always the straight-A student.
Not that her mum was unreasonable. She’d raised Emma alone. Before Emma turned five, her parents split—her dad drank too much. Money was tight, life was hard. No child support, just empty promises. Five years later, he vanished. Her mum tried finding him—he was still a person, after all—but he disappeared without a trace. Might’ve been dead for all they knew. Gone, along with any support.
Emma graduated top of her class, worked hard, but her love life stalled. Men liked her, but her mum never approved. Too handsome—spoilt by attention. Who’d trust him? Or divorced, no home—move him in, and what if they split? Divide the flat?
Friends were on second marriages, kids in school, while Emma hadn’t had a proper relationship. Then she met a man her mum tolerated. Not approved—just didn’t interfere. “Time’s ticking. She’ll end up a spinster. And I’d like grandkids before I retire.”
After the wedding, Emma moved in, got pregnant straight away. Then the problems started. Little Ant didn’t sleep, her husband grew distant, came home late. One day, he said he’d had enough—he’d fallen for someone else.
Emma took Ant and moved back in with her mum. At first, she hoped he’d come to his senses, but he wouldn’t even answer calls.
“I knew this would happen. You’re too trusting, easily fooled…” Her mum raged while Emma stayed silent. What was there to say? Arguing would only upset Ant.
Her mum adored her grandson, eventually cooled off. But Emma couldn’t sneeze without her knowing. Non-confrontational by nature, she avoided arguments. When Ant turned two, he started nursery, and Emma went back to work.
But Ant was always ill. Her mum, now retired, looked after him. Between her wage and her mum’s pension, they scraped by. Still, they saved bit by bit—for a seaside trip, fresh fruit, sunshine. Ant was bright and affectionate. For him, Emma could endure anything.
***
Standing outside the posh boutique, Emma wavered. The glass doors revealed racks of clothes. If she walked away now, she’d never come back. She took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Bells chimed overhead.
Before she could look around, a shop assistant approached.
“Hello! We’ve just got in our autumn collection, and last season’s items are on sale. What are you after—coats, jackets?” She smiled warmly, ignoring Emma’s hesitation and plain clothes.
“A coat. I need a coat.” Emma forced a smile, hiding her nerves.
“Size twelve, I’d say? Come this way.” The assistant led her to the back. “You’ve got lovely legs. No need to hide them under something long.” She sifted through hangers, then handed Emma one. “Try this for fit and style.”
The coat was dreadful—baggy, shapeless. Emma regretted coming.
“Not right? How about this?” The assistant passed her a pale, nearly white coat.
Emma slipped it on and froze. It fitted perfectly, hitting just below the knees. She stood straighter, chin up.
“Perfect. Wait here.” The assistant returned with a soft pink scarf, draping it elegantly around Emma’s neck.
“It’s like it was made for you. Only one left—others tried it, but it didn’t suit them. You’re so slim. It’s stunning.”
Emma checked the price tag and winced.
“Don’t worry. The wool’s top quality, easy to clean. Since it’s the last one, and the size isn’t common, I’ll give you a good discount. One moment.”
Emma nearly took it off to leave—too expensive, too light. But the assistant returned with a shoebox.
“Try these ankle boots. We’ve got all sizes.”
Flustered, Emma obliged. The boots fit like a dream—the heels comfortable, nothing like the cheap shoes she usually bought. Staring at the mirror, she barely recognised herself.
“So, taking them?”
“Yes.” Emma rushed the words, afraid she’d back out.
The bonus was gone, plus a bit of her wages. “Mum’ll kill me,” she thought, paying.
“Wear them out. I’ll bag your old things.” The assistant beamed. “New winter collection’s coming next month. Do visit.”
Walking home, Emma braced for her mum’s reaction. Too self-conscious for the bus, she walked, feeling every stare. Only at her door did she realise she hadn’t thought of an excuse.
The moment she stepped inside, her mum appeared.
“Where’ve you been—” She broke off, staring as if Emma were a stranger.
“Mum, don’t be cross. A girl at work lent me her discount card. There was a sale…” Emma’s cheeks burned.
“You spent your whole wage? Ant needs new shoes. We were saving for the seaside…”
“Mum, you look amazing!” Ant chimed in. “Ignore Gran. I don’t need shoes—winter ones soon anyway. We’ll save up again. You should dress like this always. Suits you.”
Emma ruffled his hair gratefully.
“Dress like this always? With what money? Found a treasure, have you?” Her mum’s voice rose.
Ant vanished, sensing trouble. Emma hung the coat carefully, sighing as she bent to remove the boots.
“You bought boots too? Selfish, only thinking of yourself. What’ll we eat?”
“Mum, stop. We won’t starve. I didnDespite all the fuss, that coat—and the muddy splash—led Emma straight to the man who’d become her second chance, proving sometimes the best things come when you least expect them.
