My Brother-in-Law’s Request to Borrow My Flat During Their Renovation: Why I Said No

Simons brother asked to borrow my flat while they renovated theirs I said no.

Pass the herring and beet salad, please, Simon said, grinning broadly and loosening his belt. Mums cooking is brilliant, unlike my wife Blythes. She could only manage storebought dumplings.

Blythe, sitting opposite him, shot Simon a scorching look but kept silent, only clinking her fork against the plate. In Margarets cosy dining room my motherinlaws the usual Sundaylunch buzz filled the air: chatter, clinking cutlery, the TV murmuring in the background and the rich aroma of roast beef.

Olivia nudged the salad bowl toward me, careful not to elbow my husband David. He sat quietly, chewing a piece of bread with an oddly guilty look. Olivia recognised that look the one he wore when hed forgotten to pay the broadband bill or had accidentally scratched the cars bumper.

By the way, Davie, Olly, Simon piled a huge serving of salad onto his plate and, without pausing, continued, weve talked with Mum and Blythe and decided its time for a major refurbishment. Our threebed flat is a nightmare the pipes leak, the wiring sparks, and old wallpaper still hangs from the previous owners. The crew start next Monday.

Good for you, Olivia said politely, sipping her fruit punch. Renovations are pricey, but necessary. Congratulations.

Exactly! Simon waved his fork. Well gut the walls, pour a new floor. Its impossible to live there with the kids dust, cement, chaos. Thats why well stay with you for a while.

Olivia choked on her drink. David patted her back anxiously and a heavy silence settled, broken only by Simons noisy chewing.

Sorry, did I hear that right? Olivia wiped her lips with a napkin and stared straight at Simon. You want to stay in our twobed flat? The one David and I already squeeze into?

No, not yours, Simon waved his hand away as if swatting a fly. Why would we cramp ourselves? You have that free flat, Grandmas studio on Maple Street. Its empty, right? Well move in there for three or four months while the mess is cleared.

Olivia placed the napkin down slowly. The Maple Street flat had been her own inheritance from her grandmother, bought in a dilapidated state. For three years shed poured every spare penny into it, scrubbing walls, painting, sanding parquet, all on weekends. A week ago she finally finished new sofa, curtains, everything and was about to let it out to cover the car loan.

Simon, Olivias voice turned icy, the Maple Street flat isnt empty. Ive already advertised it and viewings are scheduled for Tuesday.

Cancel those viewings! Margaret interjected, adding fuel to the fire. Family needs help, not strangers. Money tight? You cant earn everything yourself, but a brothers a brother. Where will they go with two kids, the station?

Why the station? Olivia asked, bewildered. Theres shortterm rental, monthtomonth. The housing market is huge.

Youve seen the prices? Blythe shrieked, finally speaking. A tiny flat on the outskirts goes for thirty hundred pounds! And we still have to buy building materials and pay the crew. Our budget is stretched to the last penny. We cant afford rent when the family flat sits idle!

Olivia glanced at David. He flinched, trying to become invisible.

David? she called. Did you know about this plan?

Davids face flushed. Olive, they asked I said wed discuss it. I didnt promise anything! Its just the situation is tricky. The kids need a good school, the areas convenient. Maybe we let them stay? Theyre family, not strangers.

Anger boiled inside Olivia. Theyd already decided everything behind her back, earmarked her property for their own financial woes, and now dropped the request across the table with a bowl of herring.

So, Olivia sat up straight. Theres nothing to discuss here. The flat is for rent. I need the income to clear my car loan thats £250 a month. If you, Simon, are willing to pay market rate, Ill give you a family discount but I wont lower the price.

Simon stopped chewing, his eyes wide with genuine outrage.

Youre taking money from your brother? No conscience! Were doing a full renovation! We need help, not your extortion!

My loan doesnt care about your renovation, Olivia snapped. The bank wont lower my payments because youre rebuilding.

Olive! Margaret bellowed, slamming a ladle onto the pot. How could you be so selfish! I treated you like a daughter. Your niece and nephews need comfort! Youre worrying about your little flat while theyre desperate.

My flat, as you call it, has fresh designer finishes, new appliances and a white sofa. I know how your grandchildren behave last New Years at your place ended with a broken TV and scribbled walls in the hallway. Who paid for that? No one. Kids, theyre kids. I wont let them move into a place I poured my soul and £10,000 into.

You spent a million rubles on it! Simon shouted, leaping from his seat. David, do you hear? Your wife puts cushions above blood! Are you a man?

David looked pitifully at his wife. Olive, maybe maybe theyll be careful. Blythe will watch. Its hard to say no, Mum will be upset.

Olivia rose, grabbed her handbag and said, Its uncomfortable to sleep on the ceiling, David. Deciding about my own property is perfectly comfortable for me. This conversation is over. My flat isnt a charity. Thanks for lunch, Margaret. It was tasty, but Ive lost my appetite.

She left the room amidst Margarets angry shouts and Blythes muttering. David chased after her a minute later, just as she pressed the lift button.

Olive, wait! You cant just walk away like that! Theyre hurt!

Let them be hurt. David, get in the car. Or stay here and argue that Im a monster.

They drove home in silence. David fumed, Olivia simmered. That evening, after the anger had eased a bit, David tried again.

Look, I get youre worried about the renovation. What if we draw up an agreement? If anything gets broken, well replace it.

Olivia laughed, a bitter laugh. David, you hear yourself? A contract? Your brother cant even remember the £50 he borrowed for a birthday two years ago. He says he forgot. And now you expect me to trust them with my newly renovated flat? No. Thats the end of it.

The next week was a cold war. Margaret called daily, alternating between tears, threats of heart attacks and scolding. Blythe sent nasty messages about greedy Londoners, even though shed lived in the city for ten years. Simon ignored the calls, hoping his brother would pressure his stubborn wife.

On Tuesday Olivia showed the flat to a young couple of IT workers. They loved the bright interior, fast internet and the lack of dated rugs. They signed the tenancy immediately, paid a deposit and the first months rent. Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. Now she had solid proof: Flat let, people living.

Wednesday evening, returning from work, Olivia found the hallway littered with two huge checkered bags, and David and Simon lounging in the kitchen with a halfempty bottle of whisky.

Ah, the lady of the copper mountain appears! Simon slurred, clearly in high spirits. Were celebrating a fresh start.

Olivia stared at David, who looked guilty yet oddly resolute the alcohol had given him false courage.

We talked, he began, words stumbling. Simon explained the situation. The crew start tomorrow, they have nowhere to stay. I gave him the spare keys I kept in the bedside drawer. Theyll just move some stuff in, stay with Mum for a couple of days while they sort things out. Ill pay any penalties later.

Olivias world tilted.

What keys? she asked softly.

The spare ones to your flat. I thought theyd just store some boxes. I told Simon youd handle the tenants, cancel the deal if needed. Id pay the compensation later.

She turned to Simon, who was smirking in his chair. Hed won. Hed twisted his brother, disregarded her wishes, and now was celebrating triumph in her kitchen.

Give me the keys, Olivia said, reaching for them.

No way, Simon laughed. Theyre already with Blythe. Shes gone to the flat to wash the floors and hang the curtains. Your place is too spotless, too white. The kids will love it.

What? Blythe is in my flat? Olivias voice rose.

Yes, Simon answered. We already moved a couple of boxes. David helped.

Olivias hands shook as she dialed the police.

Hello, police? I need to report an illegal entry. I have the title deeds and the keys were stolen. Address

Simon gagged on his whisky. David leapt up, flipping the chair.

What are you doing? Which police? This is Blythe!

I dont care who it is, Olivia said into the phone, eyes fixed on David. Im coming with the authorities. Evict the intruders.

She hung up and glared at them.

You have thirty minutes to call Blythe and tell her to leave with her bags. If shes still there when I return with officers, Ill file a report for theft of keys and burglary. And you, Simon

She paused, looking at the man shed lived with five years. He seemed a stranger now pitiful and hostile.

David, gather your things and go to your mum or your brothers house. Youre no longer welcome in my flat.

David shouted, Olive, are you mad? Im destroying the family over concrete! Ill smash your face!

Try it, Olivia stepped forward. Ill sue you. I have topnotch solicitors. Ill turn your life into a legal nightmare. Call your wife now!

Simon, muttering curses, grabbed his phone.

Blythe? Tell her Ive called the police. Get out. How did I not see she was unstable?

Olivia stormed out, threw on her coat, and David lunged at her, grabbing her sleeve.

Olive, Im sorry! I was drunk! Cancel the police, please! Dont disgrace us!

Youve disgraced yourself, David. You stole my keys and handed them to people who dont care about my home. You betrayed me.

She slammed the door.

When she pulled up to the flat on Maple Street, a police car was already parked outside. Blythe stood on the landing, two children tugging at her sleeves, shouting into her phone, Your wife is a monster! Ill curse her! Were on the street!

Olivia showed the officers her passport and a copy of the land registry she always kept on her phone.

Thank you for coming. It looks like the squatters have left, but Id like you to check the premises for any damage.

Inside, the flat was a mess. The new white curtains were ripped and tossed in a corner, a dark stain marred the sofa, crumbs and sticky soda marks covered the kitchen table.

Are these your relatives? asked a young officer, eyeing the chaos.

No, Olivia answered firmly. Theyre trespassers.

She changed the locks that evening, paid an urgent locksmith at triple price and finally slept peacefully, knowing no other set of keys would ever open her door again.

The next morning the new tenants called. Olivia explained the brief incident with relatives, offered a discount on the first month for the inconvenience, and the couple accepted graciously. They moved in.

David tried to return, sleeping in his car, sending lavish bouquets to Olivias workplace and pleading for forgiveness. Margaret called, shouting that Olivia had broken a mothers heart and left the grandchildren roofless. Simon sent a threatening text about the world being round, but after Olivia forwarded it to a lawyer friend, he was reminded of the law against extortion and fell silent.

A month later Olivia filed for divorce.

In the courtroom David looked gaunt.

Olive, cant we just fix everything? he asked quietly as they waited for the clerk. All because of the flat its absurd.

Its not about the flat, David, Olivia replied, looking past him. A flat is just walls. What hurts is that you didnt protect my boundaries, that you chose your brother over me, that you handed over my keys. Thats a diagnosis of our relationship.

But theyre now living in a tiny onebed flat, paying outrageous rent, the renovation never finished, money missing David pleaded.

Thats their life, not mine. I want a life with people who respect me.

The judge split the assets quickly: each kept their own possessions, Olivia retained the Maple Street flat and her car, David was left with his mother and his brothers unresolved problems.

Six months later Olivia met a friend in a café, sipping cappuccino and laughing.

Guess what? I ran into an old acquaintance, her friend said. He told me your ex still repays the loan he took for the renovation, but the money vanished and the work never finished. He lives in a cramped flat, arguing daily. Blythe moved back with her mum, took the kids. David stays with his mum, constantly hearing how terrible you were.

Olivia smiled, stirring the foam.

You know what? I dont feel sorry for them. I sometimes drive past that flat on Maple Street, see the lights on, the tenants happy, a little plant on the sill. I think, What a relief I didnt stay silent. What a relief I chose myself.

She checked her phone the rent payment had arrived on time.

To us, smart and brave! her friend raised her cup.

And to sturdy locks, Olivia laughed, clinking glasses.

The story shows that standing firm on your own boundaries, even when family pressures you, protects not only your property but your peace of mind. Respect for yourself is the strongest foundation any house can have.