When Grandma Found Out Her Grandson Wanted to Evict Her, She Sold the Flat Without a Second Thought
Why take out a loan when you can just wait for Grandma to pass and inherit her flat? That was the thinking of my husbands cousin, Rupert. He had a wife, Felicity, and three children, and the whole family lived in eager anticipation of their inheritance. They refused to deal with mortgages, preferring to dream of the day Grandmas flat would be theirs. For now, they squeezed into Felicitys mothers cramped two-bedroom house in Brighton, right by the sea, and it was obvious the arrangement was wearing them down. Rupert and Felicity whispered more and more about how to resolve the Grandma problem.
But Grandma, Mrs. Evelyn Hart, was a force of nature. At seventy-five, she brimmed with energy, lived joyfully, and never complained about her health. Her central Brighton flat was always full of friends. She mastered her smartphone, attended gallery openings, went to the theatre, and even allowed herself a harmless flirtation at the local seniors dances. She radiated light, and her life was a masterclass in savouring every moment. But for Rupert and Felicity, this wasnt a point of prideit was pure frustration. They were tired of waiting.
Their patience ran out. They decided Mrs. Hart should transfer the flat to Ruperts name and move into a care home. They didnt even bother hiding their intentions, insisting it would be better for Grandma. But Evelyn wasnt one to back down. She refused firmly, and that lit a fire. Rupert raged, calling her selfish and saying she ought to think of her grandchildren. Felicity fanned the flames, hinting that Evelyn had lived long enough.
When my husband, Thomas, and I found out, we were appalled. Evelyn had always dreamed of travelling to Indiaseeing the Taj Mahal, breathing in the spice markets, losing herself in the streets of Mumbai. We suggested she come live with us, rent out her flat, and save for the trip. She agreed, and soon her spacious three-bedroom in the city centre began turning a tidy profit. When Rupert and Felicity found out, they threw a fit. They acted as though the flat was rightfully theirs and demanded Evelyn let them move in. They even accused Thomas of manipulating her for financial gain. Rupert went so far as to demand the rental income, calling it his fair share. We shut that down immediately.
Felicity started dropping by our house nearly every daysometimes alone, sometimes with the kids, always bearing ridiculous gifts. Shed ask how Evelyn was, but we saw right through itshe and Rupert were still waiting for Evelyn to kick the bucket and leave them the inheritance. Their greed and shamelessness were staggering.
Meanwhile, Evelyn saved enough and set off for India. She returned glowing, her suitcase stuffed with stories and photos. We suggested she keep goingsell the flat, travel more, and live with us in her golden years, peaceful and comfortable. She thought it over and took the leap. The flat sold for a handsome sum, and with the money, she bought a cosy studio on the outskirts of Brighton. The rest she invested in new adventures.
Evelyn travelled through Spain, Austria, and Switzerland. In Switzerland, while strolling Lake Geneva, she met a Frenchman named Pierre. Their romance was like something out of a filmat seventy-five, she married him! Thomas and I flew to France for the wedding, and it was magical to see her glowing in a white dress, surrounded by flowers and smiles. Evelyn deserved that happiness. Shed worked her whole life, raised children, helped grandchildrenand now, at last, she was living for herself.
When Rupert heard about the sale, he lost his mind. He demanded Evelyn hand over the studio, claiming she had enough already. How he planned to fit five people in there was a mystery. But by then, it didnt matter to us. We were just glad Evelyn had found her place in the sun. As for Rupert and Felicity? Their story is a reminder that when moneys involved, sometimes those closest to you reveal their true colours.
