Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter 263,537 wordsCompleted

The chapter begins with a sudden scream and the crash of a broken breakfast tray. Offred awakens to find Cora, the household Martha, kneeling over spilled eggs, orange juice and shattered glass. Disoriented, Offred claims she fainted; Cora reluctantly lifts her, cleans the mess, and pretends the incident was simply a dropped tray so no one will question the broken eggs or missing items. Offred eats a piece of toast while Cora flushes the ruined eggs down the toilet and later brings a cloth to wipe up the orange juice, silently covering the accident.

Later Offred walks past the garden where Serena Joy knelt on a cushion, pruning seed pods from flower beds with shears. She watches the shears, the irises, bleeding‑hearts and other blossoms, reflecting on the subversive symbolism of the garden—silenced things bursting upward despite oppression.

The narrative shifts to Offred’s secret arrangement with the Commander. She explains the coded signal: if Nick is polishing the car and his hat is askew or missing, the Commander is ready for a clandestine visit; if his hat is straight, she must stay in her room. She describes the difficulty of sneaking past the Wife’s bedroom and the sitting‑room door.

During their first clandestine meeting, the Commander engages Offred in a game of Scrabble, allowing her to win. After the game, he pulls open the top drawer of his desk and produces a 1970s Vogue magazine, holding it up like a treasure. Despite the strict prohibition on such material, he offers it to her. Offred is both fascinated and angry at the triviality of the gift; she accepts, turns the pages, and feels a longing for the impossible past the magazine represents.

In a subsequent meeting, Offred asks for hand (or face) lotion. The Commander, unaware of the scarcity, jokes that they use butter or margarine as moisturisers. He eventually gives her an unlabelled plastic bottle of low‑quality lotion that smells of vegetable oil, warning that it could be discovered. He suggests she keep it in her own room, prompting Offred to vent frustration about constant inspections that find razor blades, books, and other contraband. The Commander shows limited understanding of their living conditions, insisting she hide the lotion in her room.

The chapter interweaves Offred’s observations of the garden, the kitchen cover‑up, and the gradual building of a transactional intimacy with the Commander through games, forbidden reading material, and personal items, all conducted under the watchful eyes of the Wife and the household’s strict rules.