In the Lap of the Gods

The fibres made a satisfying noise as they gave way under my scissors. Just the odd snip here and there. Nothing obvious, just enough to weaken the structure. It only took ten minutes and nobody missed me. It was about the only time I had ever smiled at my mother-in-law’s house.

Not just at my mother-in-law’s come to think of it. I didn’t smile much at my own house either these days, and hadn’t for at least the last couple of years. I didn’t feel happy until I met Jenny. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. I was married and had no right to be meeting someone else, but you have no idea what life was like under my roof. Walk in my shoes for a day and you’d be looking for a Jenny too, trust me.

Jenny was kind, loving and pretty. Jenny was young and enthusiastic about life. Jenny touched me in ways I hadn’t been touched in a long time, and I don’t just mean mentally. We had fun together and I wanted to leave so we could be together. So, what was stopping me, I hear you ask. It’s complicated. In our household my wife is the big earner. She earns more than twice my salary and I’ve grown accustomed to a good lifestyle.

Yes, I know, you can’t have your cake and eat it, but I just wanted to try and built up some savings before I left. Jenny didn’t have a great job, and although we wanted to be together, love alone doesn’t pay the bills. So we decided to give it a year, during which time I’d squirrel away a nice nest egg to get us started.

During which time I suffered in silence as I consumed endless Sunday lunches at my mother-in-law’s, cut her grass, re-wired her house and serviced her car. Well it’s the least ’we’ can do. She is on her own after all (my wife’s words, not mine.) I don’t see ’us’ doing an awful lot though. Funny that.

So, another Sunday afternoon and it was sunny, so after lunch at her mother’s (just for a change) it was suggested we should sit in the garden. Maybe I would get the deckchairs from the garage? What would they do without me?

The year was up. One more week and I’d be away from all this. I’d be in our little flat with Jenny. We wouldn’t be having Sunday lunch. We’d be in bed eating cold pizza, not having got up since yesterday. We probably wouldn’t get up again until Monday morning.

I arranged the deckchairs on the patio facing the sun. After that everything happened in slow motion. My mother-in-law sat in the first chair, the green plastic lounger. My wife went to the next chair, the red and white striped canvas one, and as she lowered her behind into it I had a terrible moment. I remembered the sound the canvas had made against the scissors. I didn’t have time to shout. Before I could form the words in my head she had gone through the bottom of the chair onto the hard concrete beneath.

It should have been a hilarious moment, but it wasn’t. It was as though the Gods had been watching me for the last year or so and decided the moment was right for divine retribution.

And now I’m destined to spend every Sunday afternoon at my mother-in-law’s house. Someone has to drive the car and push the wheelchair. And I suppose it’s only right that it’s me.