Why does Mum need a twobedroom flat? Shes 65 now, hardly any guests, and with her sisters she can have a cup of tea in the kitchen. Honestly, a onebedroom would do her nicely.
I, Margaret Whitfield, knew exactly why my son Michael and my daughter Olivia had turned up. The subject had slipped into Michaels conversation a week earlier, when the whole family gathered to celebrate Sophies birthdaymy youngest granddaughter.
Michael and Olivia had just arrived, barely getting a word out, when there was a knock at the door. Our neighbour, Mrs. Nolan, peered in.
Oh, Margaret, Im a bit early. Youve got visitors, she said, blushing.
Just family, Nora, I replied. Whats wrong?
My sewing machine jammed againcant get the bobbin out. Ill pop over later, sorry, she murmured.
No worries, Ill have a look. It wont take long, I said, returning to the kitchen and addressing Michael and Olivia.
Ill be with Nora for five minutes. You two, make yourselves at hometeas already on the stove. Love, go and settle in.
I sorted the sewing issue quickly and hurried back upstairs. Standing in the hallway, I froze at what I heard.
Ol Ive run the numbers, Michael said, this flat could fetch at least three million pounds, and the twobedroom shes moving into down the road is about a million.
So you want Mum to hand us the difference? A million each? Olivia asked.
Exactly. And not just a million, but a million two hundred thousand, Michael replied.
How will she raise that? Olivia queried.
I told you Id done the homework! Why does Mum need a twobedroom? Shes 65, hardly any visitors, and she can have tea with her sisters in the kitchen.
Honestly, a singleroom flat would be more than enough for her. A decent one, refurbished, could be bought for around six hundred thousand, I added.
I was looking at a place nearer the centre, in a relatively new block, with shops and a health centre close by, Michael explained.
Maybe Mum wont agree? Olivia ventured.
Why not? Im actually against the idea of her moving. But if shes being pulled back to her hometown, she might as well find something nice for herself.
Ive been mulling over a return to my birthplace for some time now. When we first moved to the Midlands, I was fortyfive. At that age you dont make many new friends; I had a few acquaintances, but that isnt the same as lifelong companionship.
Back then I didnt want to relocateleaving my job, pulling the kids out of school, moving to a completely unfamiliar town. Yet my husband was offered a senior position at a factory, and I agreed.
Twenty years slipped by: work, family, occasional trips back home. Two years ago my husband passed away unexpectedly.
My son and daughter have their own families now, and I felt adrift. When I retired, loneliness settled in, and the thought of moving grew stronger, especially as my sisters kept calling.
I didnt wait for Olivias reply. I slammed the front door as if Id just arrived.
Michael and Olivia were in the kitchen, the teacups already poured and a slice of apple cakemy own bakingon the table.
Mum, are you really set on moving? Olivia asked.
Yes. With your father gone, theres nothing anchoring me here. In twenty years this place never became home.
What about us? The grandchildren? Olivia protested.
Olivia, you have your own life, your own worries. I dont want to be a burden. Your children are grown, they dont need a nanny. Whats left for me? Sitting on a park bench with other retirees, strolling with a walking stick?
Some people enjoy that, not me. What remains? Books and the telly? My sisters live not far away, in the village where the family house standsthe one we all gather at in summer.
I keep dreaming Im back in my hometown, walking the streets, and everyone I meet feels familiar, I confessed.
Alright, Mum, what about the flat? Michael steered the talk to practicalities.
Ill sell this one and buy a new one, I said.
Do you want a hand with the sale? he offered.
Ill go through an agency. The advert is already up, so Ill start packing gradually.
Mum, Im not just offering help for nothing. There are crooks everywhere now. You could end up penniless and without a home.
Dont worry. Lisa Coles will assist meshes my brotherinlaws wife, the deputy to my late husbands manager. Remember her?
She runs her own agency, and Natashas reliable realtor helped the Pavlons buy a house recently, I recalled.
How much are you aiming for the flat? Michael asked.
Lisa says three million is a fair price, though we could list a bit higher. Ive checked the property siteseverything lines up, I replied.
Theyre cheaper elsewhere, Olivia noted.
Yes, a similar twobedroom runs about two million.
Mum, Olivia and I have a request: after you sell, could you give each of us at least a million? Michael asked.
A million each? Id barely have enough for a new place, I protested.
Why not? You could buy a smaller flat, maybe a onebedroom, he suggested.
A onebedroom would be uncomfortable for me. I need two roomsa bedroom and a sittingroom, I said.
Some threeperson families live in onebedrooms, Michael countered.
Yes, those who cant afford bigger. I can, though, and I dont see why I should give it up. I want to live in comfort.
It would be fair to Olivia and me. After all, its a family flat, Michael pressed.
Michael, I never expected wed be discussing this, but remember the willyour father left everything to you, I reminded him.
He wasnt cruel. All I inherited was the flat. Now youre asking me to split it with you?
Michaels words were a bit off, and Olivia tried to smooth things over. He meant you could help us if you have any money left.
He has a mortgage; Illya and I want a cottage. Even half a million would help us, Olivia added.
Even if you buy a twomillion flat as you plan, youll still have a million left. Thats what were talking about, I explained.
Yes, therell be some left. Ill need it for the move, for renovations, and to furnish the new placefurniture and appliances arent cheap.
What remains will be my safety cushion, just in caseafter all, Im not getting any younger. I dont want my illness to become a problem for you or other relatives.
So you wont give us anything? Michael asked.
Michael, Im surprised youve brought this up. Youre thirtyseven, Olivia thirtyfour. Both of you are universityeducated, working, with spouses, I said.
You still have years of mortgage ahead. But youre not struggling. If I hadnt decided to move and sell, would you have managed? Did you have a plan to relocate me to a simpler flat?
No. Mum, Im sorry we started this conversation, Olivia said. We just thought
You thought that Mum, whos always helped you, would never say no again, I replied.
I wouldnt refuse if you truly needed it. But I think youll manage: Michael will clear the mortgage, Illya and I will save for the cottage, and everything will be fine.
I did exactly as Id planned: sold the flat, moved back to my hometown, and bought a new place close to the old family house where my husband and children once lived. Relatives helped me settle in and refurbish the property. Now, waking each morning, I truly feel at home.
