The old cottage in the Cotswolds greeted Emma with a stale, quiet atmosphere. She flung the windows wide, letting in the gentle May sunshine and the scent of lilacs. It had been a month since her grandfather, Michael Stevens, passed away, and only now had she found the strength to travel back and sort through his belongings.
Michael had been more than a grandfather to Emma. After her parents died young, he became her whole family, raising her and teaching her everything she knew. In recent years they had seen each other only rarelyhis job at the county council kept him busy, and everyday life left little time for visits. Standing in the living room, surrounded by objects that whispered his presence, Emma chastised herself for the days they had missed.
A phone rang, breaking the hush.
Emma, have you started? asked Aunt Gillian, her voice unusually tender. Victor and I will be there tomorrow to help with the furniture. Please dont touch anything valuable until then, alright?
Of course, Aunt Gill, Emma replied, eyeing her grandfathers sideboard lined with seashell collections. Im only sorting through his things and the papers.
Good. After the reading of the will theres been a bit of awkwardness dont be upset that Granddad left you only his books and piano. He was just being fair.
Emma clenched her jaw. The solicitor had read the will, which divided the house and most of Michaels assets between his childrenAunt Gillian and Uncle Victor. Emma received only the books, an old piano and a set of engraved watchesprecious to her heart but not of great market value.
Its all right, Aunt Gill. I dont need anything else.
Exactly. You have your own flat and a life of your own. Victor and I could use the cottage for the summer holidaysgarden season is coming. See you tomorrow.
Emma hung up and let out a heavy sigh. Granddad had always said the house would be hers. Who else would I leave it to but you, my dear? Youre the only one who truly understands these walls, she recalled him saying. Perhaps he had altered his plans at the last moment; it was his right to do so.
The whole day Emma spent among the books. Each volume held a memorya battered fairytale collection he used to read to her at bedtime, textbooks on which he, a former teacher, had helped her with maths. Some books hid dried flowers, old photographs, marginal notes in his neat hand.
By evening she reached his study. The small room, with its massive desk and floortoceiling shelves, had always felt special. As a child, Michael would not let anyone enter without knockingmy creative laboratory, he would joke. Here he wrote his memoirs, kept diaries and sorted archives.
Emma carefully turned over folders of manuscripts, ageing notebooks and yellowed envelopes. In the lower drawer she found a bundle of letters tied with twineletters from her grandmother, a woman Emma had never met. Beside them lay a worn leather diary.
Opening it, she read an entry dated the previous year: Call S.P. about the new will. Destroy the old one.
Her heart raced. A new will? At the solicitors hearing, only one document had been presented.
Continuing her search, Emma methodically checked every drawer and box. Behind a stack of old newspapers she uncovered an envelope labelled Will. Copy. Original with solicitor S.P. The date on the envelope was a month before Michaels death.
With trembling hands Emma pulled out the paper and began to read. In this document Michael left the entire cottage, the garden and all valuable items to Emma. His children, Gillian and Victor, were to receive monetary compensation instead.
This decision isnt about favouring one heir over another, the will read, but about keeping the family nest intact. Emma is the only one who values the house not as property but as the heart of our history. I trust she will preserve it for future generations.
Emma sank into her grandfathers armchair, stunned. Why hadnt the second will been shown? Had the solicitor known about it? What should she do now?
Sleep eluded her through the night. She turned over possibilities on the old bed in her former bedroom. Presenting the will would spark a huge scandal. Gillian and Victor had already begun planning what to do with the cottage; they rarely visited their father, only dropping in occasionally. Did that give them fewer rights?
The next morning, just as she was sipping coffee, the sound of a car pulled up. Aunt Gillian entered first, filling the hall with her booming voice and brisk movements.
Emma, Rose and I have arrived, she said, gesturing to her daughter, who shuffled in with a sigh. Lets see what we can take right now. Victor will bring the movers later.
Hello, Emma said with a forced smile. I havent finished sorting
No worries, well help! Gillian was already roaming the rooms, eyeing the furniture. Ill take that sideboard and the bedroom chest. You okay with that, Rose?
Rose shrugged. I dont mind, Mum. Im only here for Granddads coin collection, remember?
Of course, of course! Emma, wheres the coin collection? He collected it all his life, you know. Rose will have it as a keepsake.
Emma felt a surge of anger. The coin collection had been Michaels pride; he had shown each new piece to her, telling the story behind it. Now it was being handed over to Rose, who had arrived at the funeral looking as indifferent as anyone could be.
Aunt Gillian, Emma began cautiously, did you speak with the solicitor after the will was read?
Gillian froze, then turned sharply. With Simon Parker? No, why?
Just it seems something isnt right with the will.
What do you mean? Gillian narrowed her eyes.
I found a mention of another, later will in Granddads papers.
A heavy silence fell. Rose stopped examining the sideboard and turned toward them.
What nonsense is that? Gillian finally said, her voice trembling. There was only one will, and it was read out.
I think we should call Simon, Emma said firmly. I have a copy of another document.
Gillians face went pale. Emma, listen why dig this up? Father made his choice, he distributed everything fairly. You got the things he loved mostbooks, pianohe knew you loved music.
Its not about the items, Aunt Gillian. Its about Granddads final wishes. If he changed his mind, we should respect that.
Changed his mind? Gillian sneered. He spent his whole life thinking of you! Our parents died, tragic as it was, but why did he always put you above his own children? Were we strangers to him?
Emma was taken aback by the sudden accusation.
I never asked for special treatment
Exactly, you didnt ask! You were just always there. We have our own lives, our own concerns. We couldnt stay with him all the time.
Mom, settle down, Rose interjected. If theres another will, let the lawyers sort it out.
The front door opened and Uncle Victor stepped ina broadshouldered man with a face uncannily similar to Michaels.
Whats all this about? he asked, surveying the tense faces.
Emma found another will, Gillian blurted. She says Granddad left everything to her.
Victor walked slowly to the sofa and sat down. Is that true?
His voice held only fatigue. Emma looked at him directly. Did you know about it?
Victor sighed. Father mentioned he wanted to change the will. He said the house should stay whole, not be split. He believed only you truly loved it.
And you kept quiet? Gillian shouted. Traitor!
Dont shout, Gillian, Victor replied wearily. I didnt know if hed actually signed a new will or was just thinking about it. Besides, the cottage is old, it needs constant upkeep. For us its an asset we could sell. For Emma its a memory.
So youre on her side? Gillian flailed her hands. Brilliant! Well just give it all to the girl and be left with nothing!
Mother, stop, Rose rolled her eyes. Uncles right. We dont need the cottage; you said youd sell it and buy a flat in the city anyway.
Emma listened, feeling strangely detached. They talked about the cottage as a piece of property, not as a home. To her it was a world of smells, sounds and recollections.
I propose this, Emma said finally. We call Simon Parker and find out which will is valid. If Granddads last wish really was to leave the house to me, Ill pay you both compensation for your shares, over time.
What compensation? Gillian scoffed. On your librarians salary?
I could take a loan, or sell my flat.
Enough, Mom, Rose said. Lets just call the solicitor.
Simon Parker agreed to come immediately. Within an hour the elderly solicitor arrived, briefcase in hand, and took a seat in the living room, eyes flicking between the gathered family.
So youve discovered a second will, he said after listening to Emma. May I see the copy?
Emma handed him the paper. He examined it, checking dates and signatures.
Yes, this is a genuine copy, he concluded. Michael did indeed draft a new will shortly before he died.
Why wasnt it presented? Gillian demanded.
Simon removed his glasses, rubbed his nose, and answered slowly. A week before his death Michael called me and said he wanted to cancel the earlier will. He arranged a meeting, but he never made it.
So his final wish was to revert to the first version? Victor asked.
I cant be certain, the solicitor replied cautiously. He never explained his reasons over the phone, only that he didnt want to cause a rift in the family.
Emma felt tears well up. Even at the end, Granddad thought of them, of keeping the peace, even at the cost of his own desires.
Legally, Simon continued, the most recent will that has not been formally revoked is the one that stands. In this case, thats the one leaving the cottage to Emma. But
What but? Gillian snapped.
But if you contest it, the dispute could drag on for years. No one wins except the lawyers.
A heavy silence settled. Emma stared out the window at the old apple tree Michael had planted before she was born. Each spring it burst into white blossoms, filling the garden with a sweet scent. He used to say, As long as the apple tree blossoms, the house lives.
I wont press the second will, Emma said suddenly, turning to her relatives. Let things stay as they are.
What? Youre giving up the house? Rose asked, surprised.
No, Emma shook her head. I have another idea. The cottage stays in joint ownership. Nobody sells it. Ill live here and keep it in good repair. Youre welcome to visit whenever you likesummer, weekends, holidaysjust like a true family home.
But why would you do that? Gillian asked, bewildered. You could have it all legally.
Because Granddad wanted us to be a family, Emma replied simply. He feared that money would split us, and he was ready to change his last wish to stop that. I want to honour his intention.
Victor looked at his niece for a long moment, then nodded slowly. I agree. Thats the right thing.
Gillian hesitated, the tug of potential profit battling her sense that Emma offered something more valuable.
What about the upkeep? Repairs? she asked.
Ill cover the main costs, Emma said. Youll have a tidy, readytouse cottage whenever you come. The only condition is that no one tries to sell it. Ever.
What if I need money urgently? Gillian pressed.
Ill buy your share, Emma replied calmly. In stages, if necessary. But the house will stay a house.
Rose laughed softly. Granddad would have liked that. He always said Emma was the wisest of us.
Simon Parker watched the discussion, then said, I can draft an agreement that reflects this arrangement. It will be legally sound and respect Michaels wishes.
By evening, paperwork was signed and the tension eased. They gathered on the veranda with tea, recalling old stories. Victor spoke of building the veranda with his father, Gillian remembered her mothers pies, Rose giggled at tales of Michaels childhood antics.
Emma observed them and felt she had gained far more than she had lost. Not just a house or possessions, but a reunited family. If a compromise was needed to achieve that, so be it.
When the relatives left, she stepped into the garden. The apple tree was in full bloom, petals drifting to the ground. Birds sang above. The cottage breathed.
Thank you, Granddad, Emma whispered, looking up at the sky. I understand now: the true inheritance isnt in walls or things. It lives in the people who remember and love each other.
She slipped the copy of the second will into her pocket, planning to show it to her own children one day, but not today. For now, the most valuable thing was preservedthe family home, the shared memories, and the peace among those who mattered.
