When Grandma discovered her grandson wanted to evict her, she sold the flat without a second thought.
Why take out a loan when you could just wait for Gran to pass and inherit her home? Thats what my husbands cousin, Theo, told himself. His wife, Felicity, and their three children lived in eager anticipation of that windfall. They refused mortgages, preferring to dream of the day Grans London flat would be theirs. In the meantime, they squeezed into Felicitys mothers tiny two-bedroom in Brighton, suffocating under the weight of their own impatience. Theo and Felicity whispered more and more often about how to “resolve the situation” with Gran.
But Gran, Margaret, was a force of nature. At seventy-five, she brimmed with energy, lived passionately, and was in the pink of health. Her flat in the heart of London was always open to friends. She mastered her smartphone, attended gallery openings, went to West End plays, and even indulged in the occasional flirtation at senior dances. She radiated lifea beacon of joy. But to Theo and Felicity, she was an irritation. Theyd had enough of waiting.
Their patience snapped. They decided Margaret should sign the flat over to Theo and move into a care home. They didnt even hide their intentions, insisting it would be “better for Gran.” But Margaret wasnt one to be pushed around. She refused point-blank, and that lit the fuse. Theo flew into a rage, screaming that she was “selfish” and “should think of the childrens future.” Felicity fanned the flames, muttering that Gran had “lived long enough.”
My husband and I were horrified when we found out. Margaret had always dreamed of seeing Indiathe Taj Mahal, the spice markets, the winding streets of Delhi. We offered to have her live with us and rent out her flat to fund the trip. She agreed, and soon her spacious three-bed in central London brought in a tidy sum. When Theo and Felicity heard, they erupted. They claimed the flat was rightfully theirs and demanded Margaret let them move in. They even accused my husband, Simon, of “manipulating” her for the inheritance. Theo went as far as demanding the rental money, calling it “his rightful share.” We told him it would never happen. Not in a million years.
Felicity started dropping by almost dailysometimes alone, sometimes with the kids, even bringing ridiculous little gifts. Shed ask after Grans health, but we saw right through it. She and Theo were still banking on Margaret “passing soon” and leaving everything to them. Their greed and shamelessness were staggering.
Meanwhile, Margaret saved enough and set off for India. She returned glowing, her suitcase stuffed with stories and photos. We suggested she go furthersell the flat, travel more, then settle with us in her golden years. She thought it over and agreed. Her flat sold for a handsome sum, and with the money, she bought a cosy little studio on the outskirts of London. The rest funded new adventures.
She explored Spain, Austria, and Switzerland. There, during a boat trip on Lake Geneva, she met a charming Englishman named Geoffrey. Their romance was straight out of a filmat seventy-five, she married him! Simon and I flew to England for the wedding, and it was magicalseeing her radiant in a white dress, surrounded by flowers and laughter. Margaret deserved this happiness. Shed worked all her life, raised her children, helped with grandchildren Now, at last, she was living for herself.
When Theo learned the flat had been sold, he erupted in fury. He demanded Margaret hand over the studio, claiming shed “had her fill.” How he planned to fit five people in it was anyones guess. But it didnt matter anymore. We were just glad Margaret had found her joy. As for Theo and Felicity Their story serves as a reminder that money has a way of revealing who people truly are.
