She cant stay hereshes nothing to usI hear my husbands daughter loudly explain to her brother why I must be thrown out of the house Ive lived in for the past 15 years.
“Wait, Evelyn. Its not that simple. Where is Aunt Margaret supposed to go?” says George, my husbands son, who Ive always thought more decent than his sister. In 15 years of living with my husband, Id learned a thing or two.
My husband passed recently. His children from his first marriage arrived swiftly, eager to divide the inheritance. It wasnt insignificanta countryside house, a garden, a garage, a car.
I never laid claim to much, but I hadnt expected to be chased out so quickly.
Paul and I met later in life, both carrying the weight of failed marriages and grown children. I had two daughters; he had a son and a daughter.
Id just turned 50, my eldest married, bringing her husband into our cramped flat while my youngest remained single. It was chaos.
Then Paul came along, five years older, long accustomed to solitude. His children were settledmarried, housedthanks to his years in management and comfortable earnings.
He didnt hesitate. “Move in with me,” he said. I thought it overwhy not? He was kind, a good man, and treated me well.
So I did. His countryside home was a world of its ownvegetable patches, chickens, rabbits, even a cow and pig for a time. Our children visited often, mine and his, and we always sent them off with bags full of homegrown goods.
We never married. At first, we spoke of it, but soon decided a stamp in a passport mattered little at our age.
Those were 15 wonderful years. No regrets.
Meanwhile, my youngest married too, sparking a feud with her sister over the flat. The eldest, settled and unwilling to share, paid her off. The matter seemed closed.
Until my youngest divorced and returned, child in tow. The eldest was furiousmore shouting, more tension. Id hoped for reconciliation, but it never came.
Now, with Paul gone, I must return. But theres no space left for me.
“Aunt Margaret, you can stay until we find buyers,” George offered the next morning.
I was relieveduntil Evelyn clarified the terms: I could remain if I kept up the house and garden. Alone.
So now Im to be their unpaid labor in exchange for rent-free living?
Im 65. Tending land and livestock is no small task.
Im trapped. Do I stay as a servant to children wholl cast me out the moment the house sells? Or return to my flatstill legally mineknowing Im unwelcome there too?
What do I do? Perhaps its clearer from the outside.
