— After I’m Gone, You’ll Have to Move Out—I’m Leaving the Flat to My Son… “Sorry, Gail, but when I …

After Im gone, youll have to move out. The house will go to my son

Im sorry, Margaret, but after Im gone, youll have to leave this house, said Charles quietly to his wife. Im leaving it to my son. The wills already been sorted out. I hope you wont hold it against me? Youve your own childrenlet them take care of you.

Margarets life was hardly a gentle one. Raised in a childrens home, she’d never known her parents. She married young, swept off her feet by love, but never found happiness in her first marriage. Thirty-five years ago, Margaret had been left a widowher husband, William, died in a terrible accident, leaving her a young mother raising two small children on her own. For five years, Margaret worked herself ragged to give her daughter and son all they needed. She made ends meet because, thankfully, William had left her their little flat in Canterbury.

When Margaret met Charles, he was already thirteen years her senior, owned a solid three-bedroom house in Reading, and earned well enough. They quickly moved in together when Charles asked, and he welcomed Margarets children without fuss. Her daughter, Harriet, initially eyed her stepfather with suspicion, but Charles earned her trust. Little Richard, her son, called Charles dad almost straight away. Charles never made Margarets children feel less than his own, sparing them neither his time nor his money. Both Harriet and Richard were grateful for a happy childhood.

***

Harriet and Richard had since flown the nest. Harriet, ever independent, married young. Richard chased his dream of a military career and hadnt lived at home for years. Ten years ago, Margaret called her children home for an important chat.

I want to sell our old two-bedroom flat in Canterbury, she said. This house needs proper renovationa big one. The furniture is ancient, and the pipes in the bathroom are crumbling. Nobodys lived in that flat for ages; its just gathering dust. I wanted to ask your permission. Lets sell, and split the money, what do you say?

Harriet shrugged. I dont mind, Mum. I never expected the flat, but the money might be a godsend right now. You know how much we spend on Olivers treatment. We havent lost hope yet.

Harriets eldest was born with a congenital bone disorder; rehabilitation, endless hospital visits to London, and private clinics devoured every spare penny. Richard supported his sister. Im not fussed either, Mum. Give my share to Harrietlet her take Oliver to that London clinic. Im nearly finished with my mortgage, have a place of my own now. Ollies health matters more to me than anything.

Margaret sold the flat, handed half to Harriet, and spent the rest renovating Charless house. She changed everythingfrom electrical wiring to the plumbing. All the furniture, all the appliances, she bought herself. She couldnt have known she was pouring her resources into a strangers home; Margaret would never have guessed that, after thirty years together, Charles would betray her.

Charless health started to seriously decline four years ago. His knees grew so painful he sometimes couldnt rise from bed unaided. Margaret chided, Come on, Charlie, dont be childish. See a doctor, get checked, youll be better for it! Ill come with you if you want. Please, stop sulking. Who else will care for your health if not you?

Charles grumbled, I know damn well whatll happen if I go to the GP! Expensive prescriptions that wont help. My knees have been bad since I was a lad. Its worse now, but what do you expect? I can hardly move them some days.

Harriet and Richard, who both called him Dad, convinced Charles to see a doctor, with Margaret in tow. The doctor shook his head after examining Charles. Its serious. You need urgent treatment. How long have you had these pains?

Over twenty-five years, admitted Charles. Ached after a days graft; now, even the weather sets them off.

Youre carrying too much weight. Lose some, and the strain will lessen. You know this is dangerous? New diet, as soon as possible.

Margaret took his care seriously. She worked with a nutritionist, created healthy meal plans, stopped buying chocolate and replaced it with dried apricots. But Charles refused outright. Hes talking nonsense. I wont sit about chewing grassat my age? This isnt a life. Im fine as I am. My knees ache because Im nearly seventy. Just make me tea, and, please, let me eat what I want!

Still, Margaret was steadfast, coaxing and threatening until Charles finally gave inboth to treatment and slimming down. The medication worked only briefly; pain soon returned. Charles could barely walk without Margarets help. Heart trouble and blood pressure added to his burden. He weakened rapidly, and Harriet and Richard, worried, spent every spare minute visiting.

***

Charles fought for his health for years, with Margaret always by his side, never once considering abandoning him. Then, six months ago, after another episode, Charles was hospitalised. Margaret all but lived in the ward.

One morning, while packaging food for her husband, the doorbell rang. Outside stood a young stranger, yet the mans features struck a familiar chord.

Hello. Is Charles Davis in?

Margaret wiped her hands on her apron. Hi. No, hes in hospital. And you are?

Im Stephen. Im Charless son.

Everything made sensehe was the image of Charles as a young man. Stephen, catching her surprise, asked, Any idea when hell be home? Id like to see him. Its been years

Dont stand on the landing, come in, Stephen, Margaret fussed, Ill explain everything.

Stephen listened to Margaret, then smiled sadly. Dad always was particular, as you say. Its strange to see time reduce such a strong man. Please, may I visit him with you?

Of course, Margaret smiled. Charlie will be delighted.

Margaret hadnt known about Stephen; Charles never mentioned a previous marriage or a child. On the contrary, hed always lamented never having a son of his own. Charles didnt recognise Stephen at first, but after a brief hospital visit, Charles shared parts of his past with Margaret.

I was only married to Stephens mum for four years, Charles confided. Left when Stephen turned three. I loved Helen dearlycouldnt imagine life without herbut she was unfaithful with my own cousin. I caught them. She married him after, told me to forget about Stephen. I tried to see my boy, waited outside his schoolto no avail. I chased them for two years, then gave up I let fate decide. Now, nearly thirty years on, Stephen found me. I dont know what to feelhes blood, but a stranger. I didnt raise him. Im lost.

Margaret said gently, Charlie, hes your flesh and blood. Dont turn him asidehes not to blame for his mothers choices. Let him in. Youll regret it if you dont.

Encouraged, Charles grew closer to Stephen, who started visiting every week and soon met Harriet and Richard, both of whom greeted him kindly.

Margaret was glad for her husbands reunion. Stephen and Charles would talk long hours, always behind closed doors. Margaret had never been one for eavesdropping; their conversations were their own.

Margaret and Charles had some savingsMargaret had added to the fund monthly, squirrelling away what she could from her remote bookkeeping work for several companies. The funds, topped up after the sale of Margarets flat, rested securely in her bank account. She had no habit of checking it daily.

That changed the morning she spotted a text message: £2,000 withdrawn? Margarets heart thudded. I havent withdrawn money, she panicked. And Charles hasnt left the house in days. Wheres the card?!

She burst into Charless room. Charlie, wheres our bank card? Someones taken out £2,000! If its fraud, Ill have to go to the police!

Charles looked untroubled. No ones robbed us. I gave the card to Stephen. He needed help, so I helped my son.

Margaret slumped onto the bed. Why didnt you tell me? Why wouldnt you even ask? What trouble could possibly need that kind of money?

Thats none of your business, Charles snapped. My son came to me, and I helped. Whats wrong with that?

Charless surliness was becoming a habit. Margaret forced herself to remain calm. Wheres the card now?

With Stephen, he barked. Already told you that! Stop asking daft questions.

Call him and demand he return it. Thats our rainy-day money, and I dont want anyone but us touching it!

Hes my son! My family! Why are you accusing Stephen? I told him to keep the cardhes not giving it back!

For once, Margarets patience snapped. Since when does your son get to spend MY money? Have you put a penny into that account? You havent worked in years, Charles! Im the one saving every month. Ill sort this out with Stephen myselfI dont want a row.

Charles shouted, but Margaret cancelled the card. That evening, Stephen turned up, clearly irate. Dad, the cards been blocked! I cant use it!

Thats right, Margaret replied coolly. We helped you, but there was never any agreement youd spend all our savings! The cards done with.

Stephen protested, But Dad said I could use what I needed! Mrs. Davis, please, give me an active card. I have people waiting for me. The furniture must be paid for and delivered tonight!

Margaret stood her ground. You wanted to pay for YOUR furniture from MY savings? Over my dead body! These funds are mine aloneunderstand? From now on, all money matters go through me. Charless pension barely stretches as it is.

Offended, Stephen left; Charles unleashed his temper against Margaret. For the first time in years, Margaret felt worn out by her husbandshed given so much and received not even a word of thanks.

***

Days passed in silence. Stephen didnt come, and Charles sulked, pointedly ignoring Margaret. Seeking peace, Margaret packed her laptop and spent some time with Harriet.

Let him dwell on his behaviour, she thought. Maybe a break will do us both good. Weve been at odds for ages now.

She left one morning and came home late that night. Charles seemed in good spirits, and Margaret dared hope he wasnt angry anymore.

How was your day? she ventured.

Not bad, Charles replied nonchalantly. Stephen came by, needed me to go with him to sort a few things. He just left, actually. Been on my feet all daytired.

Margaret said nothing. After a pause, Charles looked at her and asked, I hope youre not cross with me?

Why would I be? Margaret replied, wary.

I went to the solicitor today. Ive left this house to Stephen.

Margaret narrowed her eyes. And for what exactly?

Stephens my son, my only proper heir, Charles said emphatically. When Im gone, the house will be his. Frankly, Margaret, you should think about where youll stayat your daughters, or your sons?

A sting of betrayal pulsed in Margarets chest. Legally, perhaps she had no claim, but morally she should have at least half. Every stick of furniture, every curtain, every appliance was chosen and bought by her. Shed done all the renovationsput her life, quite literally, into this house. Now, it would go to someone she barely knew.

Thank you, Charlie, she whispered. I think youre right. Id best start looking out for myself, hadnt I? Ring your son and have him move inIm sure youll want his company more than mine.

Charles frowned, thrown. Move in? Why would Stephen move in?

I shouldnt know, Margaret shrugged, pulling her suitcase from the cupboard. You never liked being alone. Let your son entertain you in the evenings.

Where are you going? Charles was bewildered. Margaret, whats happening? Explainnow!

Theres nothing to explain, Margaret sighed deeply. Im leaving you. Im filing for divorce, Charles, and Ill finally be free. Just let me gather my things, Ill ring the children, and make a proper plan for the future.

Margaret moved in with Richard, who had space for her in his three-bedroom place. Harriet offered a home too, but Margaret didnt want to impose. Charles showed up for the court hearing. He didnt want the divorce granted. The judge gave them time to reconsiderbut, in the end, Margaret stood her ground, and the marriage was dissolved. In Charles and Stephens eyes, she became nothing but a gold-digger after someone elses propertybut Margaret finally chose herself.