**Diary Entry 12th June, 2024**
Granny hasnt got long left, so its time to sell the house
When Emily, at just twenty-four, decided to stay in her grandparents old cottage, some folks in the village thought shed lost her mind.
*»Young, healthyshe couldve made a proper life in London! Instead, shes stuck out here with the elderly, a vegetable patch, and barely two pennies to rub together,»* they muttered in the local shop.
But Emily paid them no mind. Shed quietly buy her groceries and walk back along the country lane. Everyone here knew herthe granddaughter of Albert and Margaret, the university student whod come for a summer visit and never left. Granddad was frail now, forever misplacing his glasses or forgetting hed fed the chickens. Granny held on stubbornly, though her high blood pressure and wheezing were constant reminders of her age.
Emily cooked, cleaned, took Granddad to hospital appointments, and sat up nights when Grannys chest tightened. The cottage was crumblingleaky roof, cracking hearth. But with the small freelance work she scraped by on and Granddads meagre pension, she started patching things up. The locals helped where they could. They fixed the roof. Someone rebuilt the hearth. The next year, she put up a little shed in the back garden and moved into it herself. When things got hard, shed stroke Marmalade the cat, warm her hands by the fire, and think.
One evening, Granddad gazed out the window and said, *»Em, youre like a light in the window. You wont leave us, will you?»*
*»Where would I go?»* she replied.
He pulled a folder from an old drawer and handed it to her. *»Ive had this drawn up. The house, the landso no one can take it from you.»*
Inside was a will, properly registered at the council officewitnessed, signed, all above board. She just nodded and tucked it away.
Albert passed at the start of March. The funeral was quiet, just the villagers paying respects. Emilys mum, Susan, lived in Manchester and rarely visited. But then her uncle, David, turned up unannouncedwith his wife, Claire, and gifts in hand. Hed lived in a posh Surrey home for years, barely remembering his parents except for the odd Christmas card.
Emily was digging in the greenhouse when David stepped out of his car, polished loafers gleaming, thin jacket useless against the chill. Claire followed, perfectly manicured, shivering as she hugged herself.
*»Mum!»* David cried, rushing to Margaret, who stood on the porch with a broom. *»Were here at last! Couldnt stay away any longer.»*
He kissed her cheek. She gave a flustered smile. *»Come in for tea, at least.»*
Emily followed. David gave her a dismissive nod. *»Em. Still here, then?»*
In the kitchen, Claire perched on a chair, still wrapped in her coat. *»Mum, its charming, really. But freezing. No central heating?»*
*»Just the hearth. Always been that way,»* Margaret said.
*»Well, thats just it,»* Claire sighed. *»How will you manage alone now?»*
*»Emily helps,»* Margaret said. *»Keeps the place running.»*
David eyed Emily. *»Good on you. But youre young. Dont you want more than this?»*
Emily met his gaze. *»Funny, Ive put everything into this place. Never saw you lift a finger.»*
Claire scoffed. *»Emily, you work remotely. Buying groceries isnt exactly an investment.»*
*»I fixed the roof. Rebuilt the hearth. Put up that shed.»*
*»Unauthorised building,»* David snapped. *»Who gave you permission?»*
He set down his cup. *»Mum, lookthis isnt about Emily. But this place is too much for you. Its the middle of nowhere. Sell it. Well find buyers. Youll have moneycould even live with us. Were family.»*
Emily set her tea down slowly. *»You havent visited in five years. Now suddenly, youre full of concern?»*
David smirked. *»Not your place to judge, girl. Youre just passing through. Granddad let you staybe grateful.»*
*»Let me stay?»* Emily stood. *»I sat up nights when he couldnt breathe. Changed his sheets when he couldnt move. You never even called!»*
*»That doesnt give you rights to the property.»*
Margaret cut in sharply. *»Enough! Im still alive. Theres nothing to divide.»*
But David was riled. *»Mum, be sensible. This is yours. And Emily shes a good girl, but what happens next?»*
Emily turned to Granny. Margaret hesitated. *»Hes my son. He means well. I I dont know what to do. Dont push me, Em.»*
Claire added sweetly, *»Really, love. How long will you stay here? Youth wasted on drips and chickens? Its not right.»*
Emily walked out.
They stayed for tea.
Days later, Margaret handed her a stack of papers.
*»Whats this?»*
*»The deed. Ive sold the land.»*
Emilys ears rang. *»What? To who?»*
*»Buyers from the next county. David sorted it.»*
*»Thats the land my sheds on!»*
*»The sheds not legal. Never was. And the lands mine.»*
Emily stared. *»You signed because David whispered in your ear?»*
*»He cares. Hes my son. Youre just»*
*»Just what?»*
Margaret turned away, as if shed forgotten every kindness. *»Im too tired for this. Leave.»*
*»Granny, you trusted me! I looked after you both!»*
*»And you lived here rent-free!»*
She tried showing the will. Granny waved it off. *»Albert wasnt in his right mind. Its worthless. The house is mine. What can you prove?»*
Emily went to a solicitor. *»Tricky, but not hopeless,»* they said. *»The wills legal if properly witnessed. Prove you maintained the propertywitnesses, receipts, everything.»*
She had both. Neighbours whod seen her care for them, the GP whod visited weekly, the council officer whod witnessed the will. Invoices for the roof, the hearth, the shed.
At the hearing, Davids lawyer sneered. *»No deed, no claim. The will wasnt notarised. And the property belonged to Margaret.»*
*»Did the claimant live and invest in it?»* the judge asked.
*»Out of kindness, not obligation.»*
*»Who paid for repairs? Who lived there? Who provided care?»*
Two months later, the court upheld Emilys claim to the land specified in the will. The sale was void. David had to return the buyers money.
And Granny?
*»Emily forgive me. I didnt know hed deal with crooks. I meant well»* She never quite grasped the scheming.
*»You sold my home, Granny. If youd meant well, youd have spoken to menot the ones who forgot you for twenty years.»*
*»Lets make it right. Ill sign it over. Properly. Just dont punish me.»*
They went to the registry office. It was done quickly.
Emily started repairs again. Got the place hooked up to gas. Granny sat by the window, stroking Marmalade.
*»Youre strong, Em. Not like my son. I thought he was clever. Turns out hes rotten. My fault, I suppose.»* Tears welled in her eyes.
Two weeks later, David was at the door with papers.
*»Im contesting the transfer. She wasnt in her right mind. Im her sonI have a claim.»*
The case was dismissed. Emily provided a doctors noteMargaret had been lucid, the transfer voluntary.
Standing on the porch, Emily looked at the cottage, the garden, the cherry tree. Shed always known this was home. Now, her soul was at peace.
She tied on her scarf and smiled.
So much still to do.
**Lesson learned: Blood doesnt make familylove does. And a legal paper never hurts. The cherry tree bloomed that spring, its branches heavy with white blossoms. Emily planted new seeds in the greenhouse, rich soil between her fingers, the sun warm on her back. Granny sat in her chair by the window, humming an old tune, Marmalade curled in her lap. The village shop no longer mutteredthey brought soup when Granny was ill, offered firewood in winter, called Emily by name. David stopped coming. Claire sent a card once, unsigned. Emily kept the will locked in the drawer, but she no longer needed it. The house stood sturdy, the hearth warm, the lights on at night. And when she walked the lane at dusk, head bent against the wind, she knewthis was where she belonged.
