“Remembering Grandad with a Quiet Word”
“Flat? What do you mean, *your* flat?”
“Mum, it was Grandads. He left it to me. You even rented it out. Dont you remember?” Emily asked, confused.
“Oh… *That* flat. Well, it was never yours,” Irene replied casually. “Forget about it. I sold it.”
Emilys pulse spiked. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and her legs gave way, forcing her to sit down.
“You *sold* it?”
“Well, obviously. Listed it on Rightmove, found a buyer, and that was that. Marks car broke down, and you know hes useless without it. Needed a new one.”
Emily couldnt even bring herself to reply. She hung up, a sharp ache tightening her chest until she wanted to scream.
She remembered Grandad proudly showing off the freshly done-up bedroom, grinning as he told her it would all be hers one day.
“When youre older, love, youll have your own little fortress. Right from the start. Youll thank me then…” Hed ruffled her hair with a smile.
Hed died when she was just twelve. At that age, Emily hadnt truly grasped what owning a flat meant. Sure, she knew it was a good thing, but she couldnt appreciate the gesture fully. So when she found out Grandad had only *said* it would be herswithout any paperworkshe hadnt been too upset.
“The flats staying in my name for now,” Irene had declared as the sole heir. “Grandad asked me to look after it so you wouldnt fritter it away. Ill rent it out to cover the bills and slowly update the place. You dont want to end up with some crumbling dump and a pile of debt, do you?”
“Of course not,” Emily had agreed easily.
“Good. Its simpler this wayIll deal with the tenants, not you. Once youre older, well transfer it properly. Dont worry, love. Mum wont cheat you.”
And that was that. Emily forgot about the flat, busy with school. The topic resurfaced when she was finishing sixth form.
“Mum, Ive talked to a friend from school,” she ventured hesitantly. “Were applying to the same uni. I was thinking… maybe we could live in the flat together? Splitting the bills would be easier. Id like to start being independent.”
Shed assumed it was just a formalitythat her mum would agree. That soon, shed have the fun student life shed imagined: late-night chats, shared takeaways, gossip about boys. But no such luck.
“Emily, love, what independence at eighteen? How exactly will you afford it?” Irene arched a brow. “Youd have to juggle work and studiesimpossible. And what if your mate shacks up with some bloke and bails? Then what? Mum, save me?”
The resentment had lodged under her ribs then, but her mums arguments still sounded reasonable. After all, Irene was the adult with life experience; Emily hadnt even lived on her own yet.
Mortified, Emily apologised to her friend and called off their plans.
The dream of independence seemed shelved for gooduntil her mum offered an alternative.
“Listen, why dont you consider unis outside London? They give you halls. Same independence you want, just free. And Ill chip in a bit, from the rent money. Not much, but enough to get by.”
Emily couldnt believe her ears. Overjoyed, she flung her arms around her mum, kissing her cheek.
Everything was perfectfor the first six months. Then Irene announced shed be sending less money that month.
“Had to see the dentistcost a fortune,” she said. “Well both have to tighten our belts.”
Then the payments started coming late. If the rent came in on the tenth, Emily got her share a week later. Then later still…
Then she found out her mum had moved her boyfriend in almost as soon as shed left.
Mark split his time between two households. Married to another woman, he claimed to be “in the middle of a divorce”one that never seemed to end. And that wasnt his only flaw.
Irene complained constantly to Emily, treating her like a free therapist. After each call, Emily felt drained. She could see Mark was using her mum, but Irene refused to listen.
“Can you believe it? He asked to borrow money yesterday! Said he wanted to take his kids to the zoo,” Irene grumbled over the phone. “Since when am I responsible for *his* kids?”
“Mum… you didnt give it to him, did you?”
“Well, of course I did! What else could I do? Decent men arent exactly thick on the ground…”
“Decent men dont leech off their girlfriends and give nothing back.”
“Stop it! Im not some gold-digger. Im with him for love, not money,” Irene snapped, cutting the conversation short whenever Emily pushed back.
Mark *did* leech. He lived rent-free at Irenes, ate her food, and when his jacket tore, she rushed to replace it. What did she get in return? Nothing. He worked in construction, but when the plumbing needed fixing, he charged her triple.
No giftsexcept a lamp for Mothers Day, which Irene had all but begged for. And even then, at the till, Marks card fell short. Irene paid most of it herself.
Then he started showing her plots of land, hinting hed build them a houseif the deed was in his name. Irene gushed to Emily, already picturing a garden gazebo.
“Mum, wake up! Hes a freeloaderhes not even your husband!”
“Oh, what would *you* know?” Irene huffed. “Husband or not, its my life! Dont I deserve happiness?”
She didnt leave Mark, but at least she stopped discussing him with Emily. Small mercies.
By third year, the financial support stopped entirely.
“Got laid off, love. Youll have to manage on your own for a bit,” Irene said bluntly.
Emily felt cheated. That rent money was *hers*. But she bit her tongue, scrambling for part-time workonline tutoring, admin gigs, whatever paid.
Somehow, she scraped through to graduation, even saving a little. Thrilled, she called her mum to warn the tenants shed be moving backonly to learn the flat was gone.
But Emily had a card to play. Not as big, but something: half her mums current flat was legally hers.
She didnt remember at first. Securing a rental ate most of her savings. After settling in, she called Irene.
“Mum, since were being honest… I want whats mine by law. Im selling my share,” she said coolly, though her hands shook.
“*What?!* Thats *my* home!” Irene spluttered.
“Lifes unfair. You sold my flatI need to live.”
“Your flat? You never put a penny into it! *I* dealt with tenants, *I* paid the bills, *I* replaced everything. I *lived* there half my life!”
A lump rose in Emilys throat. She wanted to scream that her mum had broken Grandads promise, but she wouldnt stoop to a shouting match. She had one goal.
“Mum, Im not debating this. You bought your boyfriend a carnow its my turn.”
“Mark drives *me* around in that car!” Irene interrupted.
“Listen carefully,” Emily said, voice steady despite the storm inside. “Either you buy me out, or I sell my share to strangers.”
“I raised you! Fed you!” Irene exploded. “And this? Youre worse than your father!”
Emily hung up. The next day, she sent a formal notice of intent to sellby post. Face-to-face was too much.
A month later, the money hit her account. Enough to start over.
“Sorry, Grandad,” she whispered, sighing. “But you taught me not to trust words alone.”
She felt wretched. Hed wanted them to live peacefully, each in their own home. But her home had become someone elses wheels, so shed fought fire with fire.
