**Diary Entry 12th April, 2023**
*”We dont need Gran living with us.”* Thats what the grandkids decided at their little family meeting today.
*”Have you lost your minds? Three thousand quid for that old banger? Its falling apart!”* I slammed the bonnet of the ancient Rover shut and glared at the seller.
*”Its not a banger, its a classic,”* he said calmly, running a hand over the worn steering wheel. *”Seventy-eight model, factory-built. Full service history, engines smooth as clockwork.”*
*”A clock thats stopped ticking, more like,”* I snorted, turning to my wife. *”Margaret, lets go. Im not wasting money on this scrap.”*
Margaret sighed and gave the seller an apologetic smile. *”Sorry, but hes right. We need something reliable for the cottagesomething to haul the garden bits and get us there in one piece. This just isnt it.”*
*”Take it, you wont regret it,”* the man pressed, catching her eye. *”Ill knock off two hundred£2,800, and shes yours.”*
*”No, thanks,”* Margaret said firmly, linking her arm with mine. *”Well keep looking.”*
We walked in silence through the garage lot. I was still fuming, and Margaret was clearly thinking the same thingthis search was dragging on. Summer was coming, and without a car, wed either be stuck on buses with two changes or paying neighbours for lifts. Ever since some drunk idiot wrote off our old Ford (thank God we werent hurt), things had been a nightmare.
*”Maybe we should just take out a loan for a new one?”* Margaret suggested hesitantly once we got outside.
*”With our pensions?”* I scoffed. *”No, well find something decent second-hand. Just need to look further afield.”*
*”But summers nearly here, and the gardens not even turned,”* Margaret fretted, adjusting her scarf against the spring chill. *”The kids promised to help, but you know how it isJames is busy with work, and Emilys got the little ones…”*
*”Exactlythe kids,”* I said, suddenly perking up. *”What about asking your mum?”*
*”Gran? My mother?”* Margaret blinked. *”Shes seventy-eightwheres she going to drive?”*
*”Age has nothing to do with it!”* I waved her off. *”Your mums fitter than I am. Yoga every morning, then the shops, then coffee with her lot. And shes got savings, hasnt she? That nest egg shes always going on about?”*
*”John!”* Margaret gasped. *”Thats her moneyshes saved it her whole life. She wanted it for the grandkids university!”*
*”And wed be using it* for *the grandkids,”* I argued. *”A car means trips to the cottagefresh air, nature, fruit-picking. Good for them, isnt it?”*
Margaret shook her head but didnt reply. The idea of asking her mum for money clearly didnt sit right. We hardly saw her as it wasGran lived alone in her little flat on the outskirts, and getting there was a hassle. Now wed be turning up with our hands out? No, it wasnt right.
Back home, the kids and grandkids were over for Sunday lunchJames and his wife Claire with fourteen-year-old Liam, and Emily with her husband Mark and the twins, Sophie and Thomas, whod just turned twelve.
*”Find a car yet?”* James asked, helping set the table.
*”No,”* Margaret sighed. *”Everythings either overpriced or held together with duct tape.”*
*”Your dad thinks we should ask Gran for the money,”* I announced, stepping into the kitchen.
*”Gran?”* Emily frowned, slicing bread. *”Would she even agree?”*
*”Dunno,”* Margaret admitted. *”Havent asked yet. Not sure we should.”*
*”Why not?”* I sat down. *”Who else is she leaving it to? Us and the kids, thats who.”*
*”She always said it was for their education,”* Margaret reminded me.
*”And a cars an education,”* I argued. *”Nature, fresh airbetter than textbooks!”*
Everyone laughed, and the conversation moved on. But after lunch, when the grandkids had vanished with their gadgets, I brought it up again.
*”Peggy, Im serious,”* I said, stacking plates. *”We should talk to your mum. Family money should help the family.”*
Margaret bit her lip. *”I dont know, John. Shes independent. Hates being told what to do with her savings.”*
*”Whos telling her? Well just explain,”* I said. *”Its not like were asking for a holidayits practical.”*
Later, as we all sat in the lounge, I dropped another idea. *”What if we asked Gran to move in with us?”*
Everyone stared.
*”With us?”* Margaret frowned. *”Weve no space! Where would she sleep?”*
*”We could convert the storage room,”* I suggested. *”Or put a sofa bed in here. She wouldnt be alone, and wed know shes safe. At her age…”*
*”What about her flat?”* James asked carefully.
*”Wed rent it out,”* I said. *”Two-bedder, even on the outskirts? Easily a grand a month. Thatd cover the car, the cottage, everything.”*
Margarets face darkened. *”John, were talking about my* mother, *not a cash cow. That flats her whole lifeher memories, her things!”*
*”Oh, come off it,”* I scoffed. *”At her age, whats she holding onto? She needs care, company. We can give her that.”*
Before Margaret could argue, Liam piped up from his phone: *”Does Gran even know about this plan?”*
*”Not yet,”* I admitted. *”Were working out how to ask.”*
*”What if she says no?”* Sophie asked.
*”Well persuade her,”* I said confidently. *”Explain its for the best.”*
*”For who?”* Thomas mutteredusually the quiet one.
*”Thomas!”* Emily chided.
*”Just saying,”* he shrugged. *”Whos this really forGran or us?”*
Awkward silence. I cleared my throat. *”For* her, *obviously. Its hard living alone at her age.”*
*”Have you asked her if its hard?”* Thomas pressed. *”We barely visit. Just birthdays and Christmas.”*
*”Everyones busy,”* Margaret sighed.
*”Exactly,”* I jumped in. *”But if she lived here, wed see her every day!”*
The grandkids exchanged looks. I could tell they werent sold. Gran was strictold-school. Didnt get smartphones, moaned about *”kids these days glued to screens.”*
*”Maybe we should ask Gran first,”* Emily said carefully. *”She might not* want *to move. Shes got her routine, her friends…”*
*”Of course well ask,”* Margaret agreed. *”Ill go tomorrow.”*
*”Ill come too,”* I said. *”Two of usll convince her faster.”*
The next day, we drove to Grans. She welcomed us warmlytea, biscuits, even my favourite apple cake.
*”Howve you been, Mum?”* Margaret asked, helping in the kitchen.
*”Oh, fine,”* Gran said briskly. *”Yoga, shopping, book club. Life goes on.”*
*”Thats what we wanted to talk about,”* I began at the table. *”Your… situation.”*
Grans eyes narrowed. *”Whats wrong with my situation?”*
*”Nothing!”* Margaret cut in. *”We just thought… maybe youd like to live with us? Wed make space, look after you…”*
*”Live with you?”* Gran stared. *”Why the sudden concern?”*
*”Well, your age,”* I said. *”Anything could happen. With us, youd have family around.”*
Gran studied me, then turned to Margaret. *”What about my flat?”*
*”Wed rent it out,”* I said casually. *”Extra income. Especially now, with the car we need for the cottage.”*
*”Ah,”* Gran nodded. *”So you want the money from my flat?”*
*”Its not just that,”* Margaret said quickly. *”We* do *worry about you.”*
*”Funny way of showing it,”* Gran said dryly. *”Four months since your last visit.”*
*”Everyones busy,”* I started, but Gran stood up.
*”Ill think about it. Give me a week.”*
*”Of course,”* Margaret said, relieved it hadnt turned into a row.
Back home, the grandkids were waitingserious-faced in the lounge.
*”We had a meeting,”* Liam announced. *”About Gran.”*
*”What meeting?”* I frowned.
*”The grandkids council,”* Sophie said. *”And weve decided: we dont need Gran living here.”*
Margaret and I gaped.
*”Come again?”* I said.
*”Not that we dont love her,”* Thomas clarified. *”But moving in? No. Its not fair.”*
*”Hows it not fair?”* I demanded.
*”Because its* her *flat,”* Liam said. *”Her things, her memories. Youre uprooting her just to rent it out for cash.”*
*”Its not just money!”* I argued, but Sophie interrupted:
*”Grandad, were not stupid. You want her savings and her flats income. And wheres she sleeping? A converted cupboard? Shes seventy-eight!”*
I sank into my chair. Margaret looked at themreally lookedand something shifted.
*”Youre right,”* she said softly. *”Ill call Mum, tell her weve changed our minds. Well visit more instead.”*
*”And the car,”* Liam added, *”well help pay. Ive got savings from summer jobs”*
*”No,”* I cut in. *”Thats our problem. Well figure it out.”*
That night, Margaret couldnt sleep. *”They saw right through us,”* she whispered. *”We werent thinking of herjust what she could give us.”*
The next morning, she rang Gran.
*”Mum, weve changed our minds. But wed like to visit more. Have you over, too, if thats alright?”*
*”Course it is,”* Gran chuckled. *”Wasnt planning to move anyway. But seeing the kids more? Thatd be lovely.”*
*”Saturday, then,”* Margaret said. *”All of us. Pies and plenty of gossip.”*
*”Looking forward to it,”* Gran said. Then, quieter: *”About the car… Ive been thinking. I could help. Not a loana gift. Family should, shouldnt they?”*
*”No, Mum,”* Margaret said firmly. *”Keep your savings. Well manage.”*
*”Whats left to save for at my age?”* Gran laughed. *”Black days are behind me. The bright ones? Those are when the kids visit.”*
Margaret hung up, smiling. The grandkids had been right. We didnt *need* Gran as a tenant or a bank. We needed her as *Gran*sharp-tongued, set in her ways, but ours. And her place was where *she* chosesurrounded by her life, not squeezed into ours.
As for the car? Wed find a way. Because happiness isnt in a Rover or a cottageits in a family thats honest, even when the truth stings.
