THE LOAN
by Caroline Giudice
Martha had wanted to leave Toth Town for a while.
‘I want to go there,’ she said one Sunday at her parents’ house.
Her mother’s spoon circled the cup, porcelain clicking softly against porcelain.
‘This is as good as it gets here,’ her father, Tom, replied.
‘I’ve applied for a loan.’
Her mother, Zandra, didn’t look up. ‘Sounds like you’ve already made your decision. It’s not worth the hassle, Martha.’
‘That’s enough.’ Tom slammed his knife and fork down. The sound cracked across the table. ‘We can’t protect them forever.’
‘But it’s heartbreaking, Tom. You know that,’ she replied.
They ate the rest of lunch in silence.
***
Martha’s appointment at the bank was at 9 a.m. She was there by 8:45 a.m.
The waiting area smelled of something metallic, like a coin held too long in a closed fist. Somewhere behind the reception desk, a printer whirred and stopped.
‘Martha Phillips,’ called a personal banker.
Martha looked up and rose to her feet.
‘My name is Daniel Jacks, and I’ll be your personal banker today. Right this way.’
Martha followed him down a long corridor lined with identical closed doors. Their footsteps softened against the carpet.
‘Please, have a seat.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, pulling her handbag close to her.
‘So, I have good news,’ the banker began. ‘Your loan application has been approved.’
‘Marvellous,’ replied Martha.
‘However, we need to go through the terms and conditions and discuss any questions you may have.’
The banker slid the document towards her.
‘Couldn’t I take it home and let you know at a later date if I have any questions?’
‘I’m afraid not. Protocol,’ he said, turning back to the computer.
‘Right.’ Martha opened her handbag, took out her glasses, and began to read.
The only sound was the occasional click of the banker’s keyboard.
Some minutes passed before Martha looked up again.
‘Right. I—’
‘The loan term will be for 96.’
He scrolled down the screen.
Martha nodded, then stopped. ‘96 what?’
‘Just 96,’ he said, not looking up.
She waited.
‘96 will make sense once you’re there. You will be allocated to a family.’
‘What kind? Do I get to choose? It didn’t mention that in the terms and conditions.’
‘That’s because you don’t choose. The bank makes that decision.’
‘Okay.’
‘Do you have any details about the family?’
The banker looked at the computer.
‘Yes. A middle-class family. You will be one of two children. You start to pay your debt as soon as you arrive.’
‘What if I don’t like the family?’
He clicked the mouse.
‘That would be unfortunate for you. In some cases, you may acquire a replacement.’
Martha looked at him.
‘What if I don’t like it there at all?’
‘Then it would affect the terms of the agreement. And—’
‘Yes?’
‘There will be consequences.’
Martha swallowed.
The banker folded his hands on the desk.
‘My advice is to do your time. Try to enjoy it. You’ll be back here before you know it. You have 96 to make it bearable. Some have much, much less. You’ll see once you’re there.’
Martha signed.
The pen scratched briefly across the paper.
The banker took the document from her.
‘Good luck.’
The room tilted.
Then everything went black.
***
Martha opened her eyes.
Fluorescent light. A smell of iron and disinfectant. Somewhere, a machine beeped in steady time.
Her lungs filled for the first time, air scraping in like something foreign.
A woman’s face above her, exhausted, streaked with sweat. A man’s hand gripping the woman’s.
Voices moved around her. Metal clinked somewhere nearby. The air felt cold against her skin.
‘It’s a girl,’ someone said.
Martha tried to speak.
Only a cry came out.
Caroline Giudice is a British writer of short fiction based in Sicily. Her work explores the strange, unsettling and sometimes absurd corners of ordinary life. Her short story Van Cleef was published by Mr. Bull.
