The Village of Deceived Grandmothers
– Our tribe has arrived! Eleanor Andrews nodded toward the wandering silhouette. Another lover of fresh air and private frontgates!
– Youre cruel, Andrews, Olive Mitchell shook her head.
– Cruel? Im also kind! Eleanor laughed. When I reach those acrobats, no decorum will hold me back!
– If we get there, nothing will stop any of us! muttered Anne Fletcher.
The approaching figure was awaited in a hush.
– Excuse me, could you point me to house seventeen? asked the newcomer.
– Not essential, replied Eleanor. Were all gathering in the eighth lot. Better haul your cart of treasures straight there!
– Sorry, I have my own house, said the lady.
– Were all homeowners here, Anne grumbled. Sit down, lets be introduced!
– Cressida Hart, the fresh face announced. But I could do with a rest. Im weary from the journey.
– Sit with us then, youll get a break, Olive said.
– Id like to go home and ready myself for nightfall, smiled Cressida.
– Do you have cash on hand? asked Eleanor.
– Why? Cressida blinked at the odd question. I have a card!
– And the streets are riddled with ATMs, Eleanor muttered, sliding aside a bench to make room. Sit already! At our age, we shouldnt be taxing our legs!
– Id like to, Cressida blushed, go home.
– Sit! Olive shouted, coughing. We have no more houses! In fact, there are no proper housesjust flimsy wooden boxes without light, water or heating. To survive, we all cram into one building, huddling for warmth. When winter comes, well hunker down together!
Elderly people living alone sit at the very edge of a scammers net. Theyve seen a lot, theyve learned a lot, yet they still fall for tricks, lose cash, flats, even lives. The sting is deepest when the victims are not only old but solitary, with nowhere else to run when everything is stripped away.
When volunteers from a charitable trust visited Victoria Ingram, she didnt rush to accept every offer they laid out.
They offered many things. She took the food basket, but she flatout refused a livein carer and a visiting nurse.
I can still fetch my own prescriptions and walk to the clinic! she declared.
She also turned down a flatrenovation.
My neighbours helped me spruce up the décor three years ago; I dont need a fullblown overhaul. Im comfortable as I am!
The suggestion to shift her pension to a private bank for shortterm deposits that would boost her monthly cheque made her pause. She wanted more, but the glossy pamphlets meant nothing to her, and the youngsters explanations only tangled the picture further.
Let me think about it, Victoria said.
Curiously, the volunteers never pressed, never nagged. They simply kept proposing ways to lighten her golden years. When she declined, they smiled and offered other possibilities.
Really, we wouldnt take money for groceries, the volunteers, Ben and Edward, laughed. What charity would we be if we charged you?
Thus Ben and Edward began visiting Victoria once a week. Sometimes both arrived, sometimes just one. They delivered provisions and floated ideas of outings, assistance, companionship.
Even as Victoria rejected every suggestion, they persisted.
Suppose you need something laterwont you be shy to ask? Edward asked. Weve had similar cases.
We cherish the modesty of our seniors, but our care comes first!
Victoria welcomed their visitsshe lived alone and missed human contact terribly. Her husband had passed away twenty years earlier; they had no children, no close relatives.
The volunteers didnt appear like a bureaucratic checklist; they lingered, talked about weather, memories, joys, sorrows, and offered a genuine ear.
One day Ben and Edward arrived unusually animated.
Victoria, you keep turning down help, but we have an offer youll actually want. A generous benefactor is funding a new cottage settlement just outside townnothing like those flashy newage blocks, but modest, proper houses.
He described threebedroom cottages with a kitchen, bathroom, small porch, built for single occupants. The site promised clean air, bordering woodland, a river, with a nearby village holding a shop, post office, and a branch of the High Street bank.
Eventually the settlement will have its own shop, but first the houses go up, then the amenities follow, Edward added.
Our patron is pouring money into this as a charitable actmaybe taxbreaks are part of itbut its a chance for us, Ben said, choking on his excitement.
Whats the catch? Victoria asked.
We can relocate our clients thereaway from city grime, into fresh country air. Imagine quiet, private gardens instead of constant traffic noise.
Are you giving houses away? Victoria laughed.
Unfortunately not, Ben sighed. Our patron isnt that generous.
Its not about profit, Edward muttered, a hint of irritation in his voice. Your flat is worth about £1.3million; the patron wants just £1million for a cottage. Youd still have two million left!
So you could keep a tidy nest and still have a tidy sum for yourself.
Victoria tried to pause for thought, but the volunteers gave her only a breaths worth of time.
The settlement isnt endless, and the offer is rare. Were eager to see our seniors own homes on such fair terms. Who knows when another miracle like this will appear? Ben assured, and Edward nodded vigorously.
It sounds complicatedselling the flat, paperwork, moving belongings, Victoria murmured.
Lets do this: Ill fetch the brochures and photos from my van, Ben sprang up. While you look them over, Ill sort the paperwork on site so you wont have to wrestle with details.
The glossy leaflets were filled with polished images and tidy copy. Victoria skimmed the text, then examined the actual photographs Ben had brought out of his car.
I took these myself, he said, beaming. Advertising is one thing, but real pictures speak truth. No fancy edits, just honesty.
The cottages looked cosytimberframe with plastic windows, modest in size, exactly what Victoria imagined for herself.
Ben wiped the sweat from his brow. I was nearly sent to every address in the county, but we can handle this swiftly and neatly.
The plan: a solicitor would draw up a general power of attorney for the agency to sell the flat. The agency would issue a payment order for £3million to land on Victorias account. Simultaneously, the patrons bank would generate a demand for a £1million transfer from Victorias account as payment for the cottage. All contracts would be signed before the notary.
How does the money move? Victoria asked.
The order and the demand are the mechanisms, Ben smiled. Banks decide when and how much to send. Some transfers sit for three days, but the existence of the order counts as the deal being sealed.
Victoria was unfamiliar with such fine print.
When the agency pays you for the flat, the £1million for the cottage will be deducted from your account, and the remainder will sit there. Youll then be a homeowner, ready to move into your new house!
What about my belongings? Victoria inquired.
Youll pack what you need for the first couple of days, and Edward will haul the rest once a truck becomes available.
The next morning Ben drove Victoria to the village at the edge of the new settlement.
Id like to go further, but my little car cant manage the rough road, Ben apologized. Its a city car.
Its fine, Victoria replied with a smile. Its close enough; Ill walk.
Meeting the neighbours revealed an altogether different reality.
Everythings legal, Eleanor muttered. The houses cost exactly what the flat did.
But the cottages were not as pictured. The walls were merely two sheets of plywood with a veneer that pretended to be timber. Electricity would arrive next spring, water would come from a communal tank, and heating would be electric.
Were sixteen here now seventeen owners have gathered, Eleanor continued. Pensions arrive by card, but you can only spend them in the village, and only if the terminal decides to work. Its been two weeks and they still cant finish the repairs.
What do we do? Victoria asked, naïvely.
Creep slowly to the almshouse, Anne replied. When the cold hits, well be stuck here.
File a complaint! Submit a claim! This is fraud! Victoria exclaimed.
Smart ones here! Anne sneered. You just arrived to protest. Weve already lodged complaints. Everythings above board!
The notary signed, the paperwork ticked. The seventeenth house lay down the lane, left-hand side.
Further questioning uncovered that none of the elderly residents had any kin. They had nowhere else to go but this place, and the only alternative was crawling to the almshouse.
I wont go to the almshouse! Victoria declared. Let someone whos worse off help us!
Help how? Eleanor asked.
Share their sorrow!
Vera Illic, a widow with twin sons, Colin and Toby, entered the scene. In childhood, theyd loved playing cops and robbers. As adults, Colin became a police officer, Toby a smalltime crook, yet both adored their mother. Colin often tried to pin his brother, but evidence was scarce; he managed to arrest him a couple of times a month.
Through Vera, Victoria begged the brothers to aid her plight.
Our paperwork is clean! They signed everything themselves! Ben and Edward shouted from a battered policetype SUV. You have no right!
Is that so? Colin asked, feigning fear. Then the thieves have stolen the service vehicle!
Shall we settle this like gentlemen? Toby grinned crookedly. Youre targeting the old folk, they cant even give you change!
Were following the law! Ben declared.
Youll learn the bottom of the local reservoir if you keep this up! Toby snarled. Shall we earn fame as ichthyologists or return what was taken?
What was taken? Edward gasped.
Nothing stolenonly what we earned honestly! Toby retorted with disgust.
Within a week all the seniors returned to their flats. Some found their furniture missing, but together they managed to replace it. The settlement had bound them in a strange camaraderie; they were no longer solitary, however the circumstances remained bizarre.
