My brother rang to say our elderly parents were feuding, but what truly surprised me was the unusual way he planned to handle it.

Margaret was sixty now. She had two grown children and lived with her husband in a modest two-bedroom flat in Manchester. Although, to be honest, she didn’t so much live with her husband, David, as endure him. Over the decades she’d weathered his overbearing presencea man so proud, so self-absorbed, the walls themselves seemed to bend to his will. Everything in the flat had to be done his way, no questions allowed. And for the sake of their children, Margaret had borne it all in silence.

Their daughter, Gemma, had been married to Tom for twelve years. They were still chipping away at a mortgage on a small semi-detached in Stockport. Every Christmas bonus and overtime pay went straight into paying it down. Life was far from easy, but together they managed to keep things afloat, raise the kids well dressed, and make their little house feel like home.

Gemmas brother, Simon, fared much better than his sister. He owned a handful of flats across the city and even had a lovely cottage out in the Cotswolds. One dreary afternoon, he rang Gemma with news that hit her like a gust of cold wind.

Mums decided. Shes leaving Dad. Theyve already sold the flat and split the proceeds. I promised Dad Id take him in, and youll look after Mum, Simon said, his tone brusque.

What do you mean, look after her? Gemma stammered, clutching the phone. Weve our own place, the kids Wheres she supposed to sleep, in the living room?

Isnt that for you to figure out? Youre not just going to leave Mum in the lurch, are you? Simon replied, dismissive.

Tom isnt going to be thrilled about this, Gemma murmured, dreading the conversation to come.

Thats your business, Simon shot back, and hung up without another word. Hed already sorted a one-bedroom flat in Salford for David. It was a done deal.

Gemmas mind raced. In the end, she saw no choice but to take out another mortgage to secure a small place for her mother. To her surprise, the request was approved. The lease was in her name, with the down payment covered by the money Margaret had received from the sale of the old flat. But now, Gemma found herself working even more hours, just to keep up with the bills.

Tom still struggled to accept what his wife had done. He often walked around the house with a stormy look, muttering that people at their age shouldnt be splitting up, that it was the children who ended up shouldering the heartache and responsibility. It wasnt right. Or was it?