**Diary Entry 12th June**
When Granny found out her grandson wanted to kick her out, she sold the flat without a second thought.
Why take out a loan when you can just wait for Granny to pass and inherit her place? Thats what my husbands cousin, William, reckoned. His wife, Harriet, and their three kids clung to that hope, refusing mortgages, dreaming of the day Grannys London flat would be theirs. Meanwhile, they squeezed into Harriets mums tiny two-bed in Brighton, suffocating under the weight of their own impatience. William and Harriet muttered more and more about “sorting things out” with Granny.
But GrannyMargaretwas a force of nature. At seventy-five, she brimmed with energy, lived fiercely, and was in ruddy good health. Her flat in central London was always open to friends. She navigated her smartphone with ease, frequented art galleries, caught West End shows, and even flirted at the odd seniors dance. She radiated life, a daily lesson in joy. But to William and Harriet, she was just an obstacle. Their patience wore thin.
Finally, they snapped. They decided Margaret should sign the flat over to William and move into a care home. They didnt even hide their intentions, claiming it was “for her own good.” But Margaret wasnt one to be pushed around. She refused flat-out, and that lit the fuse. William flew into a rage, shouting that she was “selfish” and “owed it to the kids.” Harriet fanned the flames, hinting Granny had “had her time.”
Horrified, my wife and I stepped in. Margaret had always dreamed of seeing Indiathe Taj Mahal, the spice markets, the chaos of Delhi. We offered her our spare room, suggesting she rent out her flat to fund the trip. She agreed, and soon her spacious London place brought in a tidy sum. When William and Harriet found out, they exploded. They acted like the flat was theirs by right, demanding Margaret hand it over. They even accused me, James, of “scheming” for the inheritance. William had the gall to demand the rent money, calling it his “fair share.” We shut that down fast.
Harriet started dropping by almost dailysometimes alone, sometimes with the kids, often with pointless little gifts. Shed ask after Margarets health, but we saw right through it. They were still waiting for her to “pop off” and leave them everything. The sheer greed of it left us speechless.
Meanwhile, Margaret saved up and finally went to India. She came back glowing, her suitcase stuffed with stories and photos. We nudged her furtherwhy not sell the flat, travel more, then settle with us? She thought it over and agreed. The flat sold for a pretty penny, and with the cash, she bought a cosy little studio in the outskirts. The rest funded new adventures.
She toured Spain, Austria, and Switzerland. On a boat trip across Lake Geneva, she met a chap named Henry. Their romance was straight out of a filmat seventy-five, she married him! My wife and I flew to France for the wedding, and it was pure magicseeing her shine in a white dress, surrounded by flowers and laughter. Margaret deserved every bit of it. Shed worked hard all her life, raised her kids, helped with grandkids Now, finally, she was living for herself.
When William heard about the sale, he hit the roof. He demanded the studio, insisting she “didnt need it.” How he planned to fit five people in there was anyones guess. But it didnt matter anymore. We were just happy Margaret had found her joy. As for William and Harriet? Well, their storys a remindersometimes, money shows you exactly who people really are.
