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The Summerhouse Standoff: A Daughter Takes Back What’s Hers
The Summer House Issue Daughter Gets Her Due
Lucy, you have to understand, its a dire situation, Geoffrey Taylor pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a weighty sigh. Fionas been nagging me for two months straight.
Shes fallen in love with some boarding school taster course in Cyprus for Daniel. Yes, OUR son.
Says the boy needs a leg up, brush up his English, get a real edge. But where am I meant to find the money, eh?
You know Im not exactly in clover at the moment.
Lucy slowly raised her eyes to her father.
So, selling the summer house is your best idea? she asked quietly.
What else? Geoffrey perked up, sitting forward. The place just sits there gathering dust. Fiona wont set foot past the garden gate gets bored, moans about the midges
She doesnt even know its not technically mine anymore. Thinks well just list it on Rightmove and live the good life.
Youre a clever girl, Lucy. So look sell it, officially this time. You take back every penny you lent me ten years back to the last pound!
Whatevers left, the extra, at todays mad prices that comes to me. Fairs fair. Family, you know.
Youre not out of pocket, are you? You get your own back and help your dad out.
Hed shown up without so much as a text. Not that theyd spoken much in the last few years hed had his new family for ages and Lucy had never really fit in with their priorities.
Lucy suspected he wanted money, but this This parental proposal was, to say the least, odd.
Dad, shall we just recall exactly what happened, ten years ago? Lucy said calmly once hed finished. When you turned up and told me you needed money for surgery and physio. Remember that?
Geoffrey grimaced.
Oh, lets not dredge all that up now. Im still in one piece though, arent I? Thank heavens.
The past? Lucy gave a dry laugh, shaking her head. Id saved up for five years, scrimping every penny for a deposit. No holidays, working weekends, cheese sandwiches for dinner. Then, you appeared: no work, no savings but you did have Fiona and young Daniel.
And you took every penny I had!
I was desperate, Lucy! What was my alternative curl up under a bridge?
I offered to help, Lucy continued, not missing a beat. But I told you honestly, I couldnt risk losing my savings entirely if anything happened. You had your legal heir, Fiona. Shed have locked me out, had things gone wrong.
We wrangled about it for a week, remember? You got touchy about signing a receipt. How could your own daughter doubt you! and all that.
I just wanted a guarantee.
And you got one! Geoffrey cut in. We sorted out the sale. You got the place for a song, just what I needed for the op. But we agreed Id stay there and, when I could, buy it back.
Ten years, Dad, Lucy said flatly. TEN. Have you mentioned buying it back? Paid anything back? A quid? No.
Instead, you lived there every summer, growing tomatoes, burning my logs (which, by the way, I paid for). Council tax me. Roof repairs me. You got your blissful retreat while I slogged to pay off a mortgage.
Geoffrey dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief.
I couldnt work, Luce You know it took me ages to bounce back after chemo and then, well, nobody wants to hire some old dog. Fiona, too shes very sensitive, the whole office job thing is killing her.
A sensitive soul? Lucy got up and started pacing the kitchen. So Im the cold-hearted one, working two jobs, paying your spa bills at the summer house, covering my own mortgage and letting you play lord of the manor?
And now Fiona suddenly fancies flogging my summer house so little Daniel can go off on a Cypriot jolly?
My summer house, Dad. Mine!
Oh Luce, I know its all yours on paper. But you know it was always meant to be temporary. I am your father. I gave you life! Cant you see Daniel needs this chance?
Daniel? Lucy stopped sharply. Ive met that brother of mine twice in my life. Hes never even texted me happy birthday. Fiona? She ever asked how I was, how I managed all the repayments? She still thinks youre a property tycoon just temporarily down on your luck. Youve been lying to her for ten years.
Geoffrey stared at the floor, guilt written all over his face.
I wanted to spare her feelings Shed kick up a right fuss if she found out I signed the house over.
Over to whom?
Luce, dont get hung up on words! shouted her father. Im offering you a good deal! That place is worth five times what you lent me. The markets gone bananas!
You take your £30,000, what you gave me for my op. That’s only fair. The other seventy grand? Thats for me. Daniel needs school, Fiona needs new teeth, I need to upgrade the old Volvo its barely road legal. The extra wont change your life youve a flat in London, youre set!
Help your family!
Lucy just stared, unable to recognize the man who once read her bedtime stories.
No, she said simply.
What do you mean, no? Geoffrey stopped mid-sentence, jaw hanging.
Im not selling it. And I definitely wont be handing over a penny of the profit. Its mine. By rights and by decency.
You had ten years free rent, got healthy, enjoyed the garden, had your bonfires. Call it my alimony to you. This conversation is over.
Youre not serious? Geoffreys face had turned puce. You want to take the last thing your old mans got? If it wasnt for me, thered never have been a summer house my dad built it!
Thats right granddad did. Hed roll in his grave if he saw you trying to flog the family nest to pay for a dubious Cyprus course for a 19-year-old whos never lifted a finger!
Lucy, dont be daft! Geoffrey yelled, leaping to his feet. You owe me! I raised you! If you dont agree Ill Ill tell everyone how greedy you are. Ill tell Fiona shell have your guts for garters! Well go to court! Get the deal reversed! You took advantage, tricked me out of my home!
Lucy let out a bitter chuckle.
Go on then, Dad. Ive kept every hospital receipt, every bank transfer. The sale contract you signed at the solicitors, absolutely compos mentis and already in remission.
Incidentally, Fiona will be stunned to discover you sold the house before Daniel started primary school.
Didnt you tell her it was your inheritance?
Lucy His tone turned wheedling, almost pitiful. Please, love. Fionas fragile just now If she finds out, shell turf me out. Shes younger, she only sticks around for security No house, no money shell ditch me. Do you want your dad living at the train station in his old age?
Maybe you shouldve thought about that ten years ago, said Lucy, voice quivering with suppressed anger. Maybe, when you chose not to work, or let Fiona rack up the credit cards, or promised her the moon with my money.
So you wont help? Geoffrey straightened, nostrils flaring. Some daughter you turned out to be!
Go home, Dad. Tell Fiona the truth. Thats the only way to keep your pride intact.
Choke on your summer house! he spat as he stormed past. And dont bother calling Im done! Youve no father now, you hear?
He stormed out. Lucy gave a half-smile as if hed ever truly been present, anyway.
Hed walked out on her when she was seven.
***
She got the call Saturday morning, from an unknown number.
Hello?
Is that Lucy? She recognised Fionas sharp tone at once. Who do you think you are, you little madam?
Tricking Geoffrey! Hes told me everything! Got him to sign those forms when he was all groggy from the anaesthetic!
Good morning, Fiona, Lucy replied, unruffled. Would you mind not shouting?
Shouting? Ill do worse than shouting. Our lawyer says we can get that contract thrown out just like that. You preyed on your sick father! Swiped the family seat for peanuts. Well take you to the cleaners!
Fiona, listen carefully. I understand youve had your version from Geoffrey, but I have documentation every statement showing money went on his medical care. Also, ten years worth of messages thanking me for maintaining the house, for letting him stay there.
He wrote, and I quote: Thanks for keeping me afloat, love, that house is safe with you.
What do you think a judge will say to that?
Fiona was briefly speechless, clearly not expecting a prepared response.
You greedy cow, she hissed. Isnt having your own flat enough? You want to take whats left from Daniel? He needs an education!
He needs to get a job, Lucy retorted. Just as I did, at his age.
And before you go on, Fiona remember all those shares Geoffrey said he had? Sorry to disappoint they never existed. He was living off the money I sent him, passing it off as dividend payments. Go check your bank statements. He only ever came to me for help, always with another sob story.
I was up to my eyeballs in debt, thinking I was saving my dads life. Only recently did I twig to the truth.
Fiona hung up.
That evening, Lucy received a text from her father. Just three words: Youve ruined everything.
***
She didnt reply. A few days later, the summer house neighbours called with the news: Fiona had kicked up an absolute scene, chucking Geoffreys belongings out of the window until the police arrived.
Turns out Fiona, counting on the house sale, had racked up debts, taking out an eye-watering loan for Daniels head start.
Geoffrey was forced to move out. Fiona filed for divorce as soon as she got the full scale of his fibs. Daniel, lifelong stranger to effort, wasted no sympathy and moved straight in with his girlfriend, announcing, Dads got no one to blame but himself.
Where Geoffrey is now, Lucy neither knew nor frankly cared to find out.
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The Carer for the Wife — What do you mean? — Lida thought she must have misheard. — Where am I supposed to go? Why? What for? — Oh, can we just skip the dramatics, please? — he grimaced. — What’s not clear here? There’s no one left for you to take care of. Where you go is none of my concern. — Ed, what’s wrong with you? Weren’t we planning to get married…? — That was your idea. I never said any such thing. At 32, Lida decided to turn her life around and leave her small hometown. What was left for her there? Endure her mother’s nagging? Her mother simply couldn’t stop scolding Lida about the divorce, constantly asking how she managed to “lose” her husband. Yet Vas’ka wasn’t worth a kind word—drunk and a womaniser! How did she end up marrying him all those eight years ago? Lida wasn’t at all upset about the divorce—in fact, she felt she could finally breathe again. But she argued constantly with her mum about it, and they also fought about money, which was always in short supply. So, she’d head off to the county town and land a great job there! Look at Svetka—her old school friend—she’d been married for five years to a widower. Who cares if he’s 16 years older and hardly a heartthrob, at least he has a flat and a decent income. And Lida reckoned she was just as good as Svetka! — Well, thank heavens! You’ve come to your senses! — Svetka encouraged her. — Pack your things, you can stay with us for a bit, and we’ll sort out the job situation. — Won’t your Vadim Petrovich mind? — Lida was unsure. — Don’t be silly! He does whatever I ask! Don’t worry, we’ll get by! Still, Lida didn’t want to stay long at her friend’s place. After just a couple of weeks and her first wages, she rented her own room. And just a couple of months later, she had a stroke of luck. — Why is a woman like you working in the market? — said one of her regulars, Edward Boris, with concern. Lida knew all her regulars by name by now. — It’s cold, it’s hard work—not ideal. — Gotta earn money somehow, — she shrugged, — unless you have another offer? Edward Boris wasn’t exactly a dreamboat in her eyes—twenty years older, a bit pudgy, starting to bald, and with a shrewd look in his eye. He was always particular about choosing his vegetables and paid to the penny. But he dressed well and drove a nice car—definitely not a down-and-out, not a drunk. He also had a wedding ring, so she never considered him as husband material. — You strike me as responsible, steady, and clean, — Edward Boris switched to a familiar tone, — have you ever cared for anyone who was ill? — I used to look after a neighbour, actually. She had a stroke, her children live far away, so they paid me to help. — That’s great! — he exclaimed, and then put on a somber face: — My wife, Tamara, has had a stroke too. The doctors say she has little chance of recovery. I’ve brought her home, but I haven’t got time to look after her. Will you help? I’ll pay you properly. Lida didn’t have to think long—much better to be in a warm flat changing bedpans than freezing on the market for ten hours a day serving picky customers! He even suggested she live there, so no more rent. — They’ve got three spare rooms! You could play football in there! — she delightedly told her friend. — No children either. Tamara’s mother was a real madam—even at 68, she acted half her age. She’d just remarried and was busy with her husband. No one else to care for the invalid. — Is she really that sick? — Oh yes, poor thing can’t move or speak. She won’t get better. — You almost sound happy about it, — Svetka eyed her. — Of course not, — Lida looked down, — but once Tamara’s gone, Edward Boris would be free… — Are you for real, Lida? Wishing someone dead for a flat?! — I’m not wishing anyone dead—I’m just not going to miss my chance! Easy for you to say, you’ve got it made! They had a huge fight and didn’t speak for half a year—until Lida confessed to Svetka her romance with Edward Boris. They couldn’t live without each other, but of course, he’d never leave his wife—not that type! So for now, she’d remain his lover. — So you’re shacking up with him while his wife is dying in the next room? — her friend was appalled. — Do you even see how vile that is? Or are you that blinded by his money—if he’s even got it? — Trust you to never say a kind word, — Lida retorted. They stopped talking again, but she barely felt guilty—well, perhaps just a bit. She cared for Tamara with real diligence, and since her affair with Edward Boris began, she took on all the housework too. After all, a man needs more than just a woman in his bed—he wants a good meal, crisp shirts, a clean flat. Lida thought her lover was very content, and she was enjoying her life too. She barely noticed Edward had stopped paying her for caring for his wife. Not that it mattered now—they were almost like husband and wife! He gave her money for shopping, and she managed the budget, not realising it was tight. And his job paid well enough—but never mind, once they got married it would all become clear. With time, the spark between them dulled, and Edward lingered less at home, but Lida put it down to the strain of having a sick wife. She pitied him, even though he barely spent a minute a day checking on Tamara. Even so, Lida wept when Tamara finally passed away. She’d given a year and a half of her life to that woman—you can’t get that time back. She organised the funeral too—Edward was “too grief-stricken.” He gave her the bare minimum for expenses, but she did everything properly. No one could accuse her of a thing. Even the neighbours, gossiping about her and Edward—nothing escapes them!—nodded approvingly at the funeral. His mother-in-law too seemed satisfied. So Lida never expected what Edward said next. — You understand there’s no need for your services anymore, so I’m giving you a week to move out, — he said on the tenth day after the funeral. — What do you mean? — Lida’s voice faltered. — Where should I go? Why? — Please, do we have to have this scene? — he sighed. — There’s no one left for you to care for, and where you go is none of my business. — Ed, what’s wrong with you? We were supposed to get married… — That’s your fantasy. I never said anything of the sort. Next morning, after a sleepless night, Lida tried to talk again, but he just repeated the same words and urged her to move quickly. — My fiancée wants to renovate before the wedding, — was all he said. — Fiancée? Who’s that? — None of your business. — Oh, none of my business?! Well, I’ll move out, but you’ll pay me for my work first. You were meant to pay forty grand a month. I only got paid twice. So you owe me £8,000. — You can do the sums, can’t you! — he snorted. — Don’t get carried away… — And you owe for cleaning too! I won’t nit-pick, just pay me ten grand and we’ll call it even. — Or what? You’ll go to court? There’s no contract. — I’ll tell Tamila—remember, your mother-in-law owns this flat. Edward’s face changed, but he recovered quickly. — Who’d believe you? — he huffed. — You know what? I don’t want to see you. Get out now. — You’ve got three days, darling. No ten grand, and there’ll be a scandal, — Lida replied, heading for a cheap hostel. She’d managed to save some of the housekeeping money. On the fourth day, having had no answer, Lida went back to the flat. Tamila, the mother-in-law, was there. Lida could see from Edward’s face she’d never get paid. So she told Tamila everything. — She’s making it all up! Don’t listen! — the widower protested. — Well, well, I’d heard rumours at the funeral, but I didn’t believe them — Tamila’s stare was fierce. — Now it all makes sense. And you, my dear son-in-law, don’t forget who owns this flat? Edward froze. — So, I want you out of here within the week. No—within three days. Tamila turned to leave, then paused at Lida. — And you, standing there like you expect a prize? Get out! Lida bolted from the flat, realising there’d be no money for her—not now. Back to the market again; there’d always be work there… **The Carer’s Devotion: Betrayal Behind Closed Doors in Suburban England**
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