Look! Our tribe has arrived! Eleanor Andrews nodded toward the wandering figure. Another lover of fresh air and a private garden!
Youre being harsh, Eleanor, Olivia Mitchell shook her head.
Am I harsh? Eleanor smiled slyly. I can be kind, too! When I reach those acrobats, no propriety will stop me.
If we get there, nothing will hold any of us back! muttered Anne Fletcher.
The approaching silhouette was met with a hush.
Excuse me, could you tell me where the seventeenth house is? asked a lady who had just arrived.
Not that important, Eleanor replied. Were all gathering in the eighth cluster. Better haul your cart of treasures straight there!
Sorry, I have my own home, the newcomer said.
Were all homeowners here, Anne growled. Sit down, lets get acquainted!
My name is Ethel Irving, the stranger introduced herself. But Id like a rest. Im tired after the walk.
Sit with us and youll get a break, Olivia said.
Id rather get home and tidy up before nightfall, Ethel smiled.
Do you have cash on hand? Eleanor asked.
For what? Ethel was taken aback. I have a card!
Everyones got cash machines everywhere, Eleanor muttered, shuffling to make space on the bench. Sit already! At our age we shouldnt be hurting our legs.
Id just like to go home, Ethel said shyly.
Sit down! Olivia shouted, coughing. Weve run out of proper houses! All we have are these plywood boxes without electricity, water, or heating.
Now we all live under one roof just to survive the winter, keeping each other warm.
—
Elderly people who live alone are prime targets for con artists. They have seen a lot, have experience, yet they still fall for tricks, lose money, homes, even their peace of mind. The most painful losses happen to those who are both old and solitarywhen everything is stripped away, theres nowhere to retreat.
When volunteers from a charitable trust visited Ethel, she didnt instantly accept every offer.
They came with many suggestions. She welcomed a grocery basket, but refused a live-in carer and a visiting nurse.
I can still tend to myself and get to the clinic on my own! she declared.
She also turned down a home renovation. Three years ago the neighbours helped me freshen up the décor. I dont need a full makeover; Im comfortable as I am.
She paused when they suggested moving her pension to a private bank that promised higher monthly payouts through shortterm deposits. The brochure was confusing, and the volunteers explanations only tangled her further.
Alright, Ill think about it, she said.
The volunteers never pressed, never insistedjust kept offering ideas that might improve her life. They never asked for money for the groceries, even though Ethel offered.
Were a charity, not a cashgrab, they laughed.
Soon Victor Hart and Ethan Brooks began visiting Ethel once a week, sometimes together, sometimes alone. They delivered food and suggested various ways to enjoy her days, to get help, to have company.
What if you ever need something and feel shy to ask? Ethan asked. Weve seen that happen before.
Ethel loved the visits. Shed been widowed for twenty years, had no children, no close relatives. The volunteers didnt come for a quick formfill; they stayed, talked about the weather, memories, joys, and sorrows. Their weekly chats warmed her heart.
One day Victor and Ethan arrived unusually excited.
Ethel, you keep turning down help, but we have an offer youll actually want. A major sponsor is funding a new cottage development outside townreal, modest houses, not those fake timber facades.
Victor described threebedroom cottages with a kitchen, bathroom, and a small verandah, each built for a single occupant. The site promised clean air, nearby woods, a river, and essential shops, a post office, and a bank in the adjacent village.
The sponsor is covering all construction costs, Victor said, his voice shaking with enthusiasm. He wants to invest in charity, so the houses are practically a gift. Your current flat is valued at about £1.2million, and the sponsor asks for only £300000 for the cottage. Youd still have roughly £900000 left.
Ethel asked for a moment to think, but the volunteers pressed for a quick decision.
The settlement isnt endless, Victor warned. If we dont act, someone else will take the chance.
They produced glossy brochures and photographs of the timberclad homes, complete with modern doubleglazed windows. Victor even handed Ethel a set of his own pictures, insisting they were more authentic than the polished ads.
The plan is simple, Victor explained. A solicitor will draw up a power of attorney for the sale of your flat. The agency will pay you £1.2million into your account. At the same time, a payment request will be sent to your account for £300000, which will go to the sponsor as the price of the cottage. The remaining £900000 stays with you, and you become the owner of a new home.
Ethel asked about her belongings.
You take what you need for the first couple of days, and Ethan will arrange a truck for the rest, Victor promised.
The next morning Victor drove Ethel to the village at the edge of the development. I cant go further; my car is only for city streets, he said apologetically. But the cottage is close enough for a walk.
When she met the other residents, reality set in.
The paperwork is all legal, Eleanor grumbled later. The houses cost exactly what the flat was worth, but the walls are just two sheets of plywood with a veneer that pretends to be timber.
Electricity wouldnt be installed until spring, water came from a communal tank, and heating would be electric.
Ethel fell silent.
There are sixteen of us here seventeen if you count yourself, Eleanor continued. Our pensions go straight onto cards, but the local payment terminal works only when it feels like it. Repairs have been stalled for weeks.
What should we do? Ethel asked, naïve.
Crawl slowly towards the hospice, Anne said. When the cold hits, well be stuck.
Should we complain? File a claim? This is fraud! Ethel shouted.
Smart girl, Anne sneered. Weve already lodged complaints. Everythings above board.
Further questioning revealed that none of the elderly residents had any family. Their only option seemed to be crawling toward the hospice together.
I wont go to the hospice, Ethel declared. Someone worse off than us must help.
She recalled her neighbour Harriet Izzard, who had two twin sons, Colin and Tom. In childhood they played cops and robbers. As adults, Colin became a police officer, Tom a smalltime crook. Both still cared deeply for their mother.
Ethel asked Harriet to convince both sons to intervene.
Victor and Ethan barked at a police patrol SUV, shouting that they had no right to interfere. The criminals stole a patrol car, Colin pretended to be frightened.
Tom, leaning against the vehicle, smirked, We get a slap on the wrist for targeting old people who cant even pay for a cup of tea.
After a week, the residents managed to retrieve their flatsize belongings and share them. Some furniture was missing, but together they made do. The strange circumstances had, oddly enough, forged a community. Though they were still strangers, they were no longer isolated.
In the end, Ethel learned that kindness from strangers can be a doubleedged sword, and that blind trust in glossy promises may lead to disappointment. Yet the friendships she forged in that makeshift village reminded her that even when the world feels cold and uncertain, a shared cup of tea and a listening ear can keep the heart warm.
The true wealth of a life lies not in the size of the house or the amount in a bank account, but in the genuine connections we build and the caution we keep when offers seem too good to be true.
