Granny didnt have long left, and it was time to sell the house…
When Emily, at twenty-four, decided to stay in her grandparents old cottage, some folks thought shed lost the plot.
“Young, healthycouldve made a proper life in the city! But no, shes stuck out here with old folks, a veg patch, and pennies to her name,” theyd mutter down at the village shop.
But Emily just quietly paid for her groceries and walked back along the country lane. Everyone knew her heregranddaughter of William and Margaret, the university girl whod first come for the summer and never left. Grandpa William was frail now, always misplacing his glasses or forgetting hed fed the chickens. Granny Margaret held on better, but her high blood pressure and shortness of breath were reminders time wasnt on her side.
Emily cooked, cleaned, took Grandpa to hospital appointments, and sat up nights when Grannys chest got tight. The cottage was falling apartroof leaking, stove crumbling. But with her little remote freelance job and Grandpas modest pension, Emily started fixing things. Locals pitched in when they could. They patched the roof. Someone rebuilt the stove. The next year, she put up a tiny outbuilding in the back garden and moved into it herself. On hard days, shed stroke her cat, Biscuit, warm her hands by the stove, and think.
One evening, Grandpa gazed out the window and said, “Em, youre like a light in the window. You wont leave us, will you?”
“Course not, Grandad,” she answered.
He pulled a folder from an old drawer and handed it to her.
“Sorted out some paperwork. The house, the land. So no one can take it from you.”
Emily opened ita will, properly registered with the council. All above board: two witnesses, the village head signing off. She just nodded and tucked it away.
William passed in early March. A quiet funeral, villagers came, shed a few tears. Emilys mum, Helen, lived in London and rarely visited. But Uncle David turned up out of the bluewith his wife, Sophie, and armfuls of presents. Hed been settled in his posh countryside house for years, only remembering his parents on birthdays, if that.
Emily was digging by the greenhouse when David climbed out of his car, all shiny trainers and a thin jacket. Sophie followed, perfectly manicured, shivering as she hugged her arms.
“Mum!” David cried, rushing to Margaret, who was sweeping the front step. “Here we arefinally! Never could get away, but we had to come.”
He kissed her cheek. She gave a flustered smile.
“Come in, then. Lets have tea.”
Emily trailed inside. David gave her a dismissive nod.
“Em, hey. Still here, then?”
The kitchen buzzed with awkward energy. Sophie sat without taking off her coat.
“Mum, its charming here. But freezing. No radiators?”
“Just the stove. Always been that way,” Margaret said.
“Exactly what I mean. Howll you manage alone? Its too much.”
“Emily helps,” Margaret waved her off. “Keeps things going.”
David glanced at Emily.
“Good on you. But youre young. Dont you want more? This isnt yours.”
Emily shot him a look.
“Funny, that. Ive been putting money into it like it is. Whereve you been?”
Sophie scoffed.
“Emily, love, you work remotely. Whatve you really put in? Buying groceries isnt an investment.”
“I fixed the roof. Rebuilt the stove. Put up that outbuilding.”
“Unauthorised,” David snapped. “Who said you could?”
He set down his mug.
“Mum, Ill be straight. Its not about Emily. But this place is a burden. And lets face itits the back of beyond. Sell it. Wed find buyers. Youd have money to live comfortablywith us. Were family.”
Emily slowly put her tea down.
“You didnt visit for five years. Just a text now and then. Suddenly youre all heart?”
David smirked.
“Not your place to judge, girl. Youre passing through. Grandpa put you upbe grateful.”
“Put me up?” Emily stood. “I held him when he choked coughing. Changed his sheets. You didnt even call!”
“That doesnt give you rights to this place, clear?”
Margaret cut in sharply.
“Enough. No fighting. Im still here. Nothings being divided.”
But David was wound up. He turned to her.
“Mum, you know This is yours. You own it. Emilys kind, but what happens next?”
Emily looked at Granny. Margaret hesitated.
“Hes my son. He wants to help. Im Im confused. Dont pressure me, Em.”
Sophie added sweetly,
“Em, really. How longll you stay? Young like you, stuck with drips and chickens? Its not right. Youll waste your life here.”
Emily walked out.
They stayed for tea.
A few days later
“Whats this?” Emily asked.
“Papers. I sold the land.”
Emilys ears rang.
“What? To who?”
“Buyers from the next county. David sorted it.”
“Thats the land my outbuildings on!”
“The buildings not registered. Doesnt exist. And the lands mine.”
Emily was silent a long time.
“You signed because David whispered in your ear?”
“He cares. Hes my son. My blood. Youre”
“Im what?”
Margaret looked away, as if shed forgotten every good thing Emily had done.
“Im too tired for this. Go.”
“Granny, you trusted me! I looked after you, after Grandad”
“And you lived here rent-free!”
She tried reasoning, showed her the will. Margaret brushed it off.
“Grandad wasnt in his right mind. Its worthless. The house is mine. What can you prove?”
“This is my home!”
Emily went to a local solicitor.
“Tricky, but not hopeless,” the woman said. “The wills legal if properly witnessed. Prove you maintained the placelived here, spent money. Witnesses matter. Who saw you care for them, build, invest?”
“Ive got names. The nurse who visited. The village head who witnessed the will. Next-door Martha helped carry supplies. Receipts for the roof, stove, repairs.”
At the first hearing, Davids lawyer argued,
“The claimant has no deed. The will wasnt notarised. And the property belonged to Margaret.”
“But did the claimant live there and invest?” the judge asked.
“Well out of kindness. No legal obligation.”
“Clarify: who paid for repairs? Who lived there? Who provided care?”
The case rolled on.
Two months later, the court granted Emily rights to the land specified in the will. The sale was void. David had to refund the buyers.
And Granny?
“Emily, love forgive me. I didnt know hed deal with crooks. I meant well” She never grasped the full scheme.
“You sold my home, Granny. If you meant well, youd have talked to me. Not themthe ones who forgot you for twenty years.”
“Lets make it right. Ill sign it over. Properly. Just dont be cross with an old woman.”
They went to the council office. It was done fast.
Emily started repairs again. Got the place hooked up to gas through a government scheme. Granny sat by the window, stroking Biscuit.
“Youre strong, Em. Not like my son. Thought he was clever. Turns out hes rotten. Raised him wrong, I suppose.” Tears welled up.
Two weeks later, David turned up with papers.
“Im contesting the transfer. She wasnt in her right mind. Im her sonIve got rights.”
The case was quick. Emily brought a doctors note: Granny was sound of mind, signed willingly. The court threw it out.
Emily stepped onto the porch, looked at the cottage, the garden, the cherry tree. Shed always felt it was home. Now her soul was at peace.
She smiled, tied her scarf.
So much left to do.
