**Diary Entry**
I knew Grandma didnt have long left, and the time had come to think about selling the house When I, Emily Whitaker, decided at twenty-four to stay in my grandparents cottage in the countryside, people thought Id lost my mind.
Young, healthyshe could make something of herself in the city! But here? Just old folks, a vegetable patch, and poverty, they muttered in the village shop.
I ignored them, paid for my groceries, and walked home down the lane. Everyone here knew meEmily, the granddaughter of William and Margaret Hayes, the university student whod come for the summer and never left. Granddad was frail now, always misplacing his glasses or forgetting hed fed the chickens. Grandma held on stubbornly, but her high blood pressure and breathlessness betrayed her age.
I cooked, cleaned, took Granddad to hospital appointments, and sat up with Grandma when her heart played up. The cottage was falling apartthe roof leaked, the fireplace crumbled. But with my remote freelance work and Granddads modest pension, I started repairs. Locals helped where they could. We fixed the roof. Someone rebuilt the hearth. The next year, I put up a small outbuilding in the back garden and moved in there myself. On hard nights, Id stroke the cat, Biscuit, warm my hands by the fire, and think.
One evening, Granddad gazed out the window and said, Em, youre like a light in the window. Wont you leave us?
Where would I go, Granddad? I replied.
He pulled an old folder from a drawer and handed it to me. Made this for you. The house, the land. So no one can take it from you.
Inside was a will, properly registered at the council officewitnessed by two villagers and the parish chairman. I just nodded and tucked it away.
William Hayes passed in early March. The funeral was quietlocals came, shed a few tears. My mother, Lisa, visited rarely from Manchester. But then Uncle David turned up unexpectedlywith his wife, Claire, and gifts in hand. Hed lived in his posh Cheshire home for years, barely remembering his parents except for the odd birthday card.
I was digging in the greenhouse when their car pulled up. David stepped out in designer trainers and a thin jacket. Claire followed, perfectly manicured, shivering in her coat.
Mum! David cried, rushing to Margaret on the porch. Were here at last! Its been impossible to get away, but we couldnt stay away now!
He hugged her, kissed her cheek. She gave an awkward smile.
Come in, then. Well have tea.
I followed. David nodded at me, a flicker of disdain in his smile. Em. Still here, then?
Claire sat at the kitchen table without taking off her coat. Its quaint here, Mum. But so cold. No radiators?
Just the hearth. Always been that way, Grandma said.
Honestly, how do you manage alone? It must be exhausting.
Emily helps, Grandma said. Keeps everything going.
David shot me a look. Good for you. But youre young. Dont you get sick of it? Its not even yours.
I met his gaze. Funny. Ive put money into it like it is. Never saw a penny from you.
Claire scoffed. Emily, you work from home. What have you really invested in? Buying groceries doesnt count.
I fixed the roof. Rebuilt the hearth. Put up the outbuilding.
Illegal extension, David cut in. Who gave you permission?
He set down his cup. Mum, lets be honest. This place is too much for you. And frankly, its the middle of nowhere. Sell it. Wed find buyers. Youd have moneycould even live with us. Were family.
I placed my tea down slowly. You havent visited in five years. Just the odd text. Now suddenly, youre all heart.
David smirked. Not your place to judge, love. Youre just passing through. Granddad put you upbe grateful.
Put me up? I stood. I sat with him nights when he couldnt breathe. Changed his sheets. You didnt even call!
That doesnt give you rights to the property, understood?
Margaret snapped, Enough! No fighting. Im still alive. Nothings being divided.
But David was wound up. Mum, you know this is yours. You own it. And Emily she might be kind, but what happens next?
I turned to Grandma. She hesitated. Hes my son. He wants to help. II dont know what to do. Dont pressure me, Em.
Claire added sweetly, Really, Emily. How long will you stay? Wasting your youth on medicine runs and chickens? Its not right. Do you want to grow old here?
I walked out.
They stayed for tea.
**A few days later**
Whats this? I asked.
Papers. Ive sold the land.
My ears rang. What? To who?
Buyers from the next county. David sorted the paperwork.
Thats the land my outbuildings on!
The buildings not registered. Doesnt exist. The lands mine.
I stared. You signed because David whispered in your ear?
He cares. Hes my son. My blood. And you
And me what?
She turned away, as if shed forgotten every kindness Id done.
Im too tired for this. Go.
Grandma, you trusted me! I looked after you, after Granddad
And you lived here rent-free!
I tried showing her the will. She waved it off. Your granddad wasnt in his right mind. Its worthless. The house is mine. What can you prove?
I live here! Its my home now!
I went to a local solicitor. She said, Tricky, but not hopeless. The wills legal if properly witnessed. Youve lived here, invested in itthat counts. We need proof: receipts, witnesses.
Ive got both. The nurse who visited. The parish chairman who witnessed the will. Mrs. Wilkins next door helped carry materials. Invoices for the roof, the hearth, the repairs.
At the hearing, Davids lawyer argued, My client has no ownership documents. The will wasnt notarised. The property belongs to Margaret Hayes.
The judge asked, Did the claimant live here? Invest in it?
Out of kindness. No legal obligation.
Who paid for repairs? Who cared for the elderly?
The case dragged on. Two months later, the court ruled in my favourthe land in the will was mine. The sale was void. David had to refund the buyers.
As for Grandma
Emily forgive me. I didnt know he was mixed up with crooks. I meant well She never grasped the full deceit.
You sold my home, Grandma. If youd talked to menot the ones who forgot you for twenty years.
Lets make it right. Ill sign it over to you. Legally. Just dont be harsh on an old woman.
We went to the council office. It was done quickly.
I started repairs again. Got the place hooked up to gas. Grandma sat by the window, stroking Biscuit.
Youre strong, Em. Not like my son. I thought he was clever. Turns out hes rotten. Mustve raised him wrong. Tears welled in her eyes.
Two weeks later, David appeared with more papers.
Im contesting the deed. She wasnt in her right mind. Im her sonI have rights.
The court didnt take long. I brought a doctors noteGrandma had been sound of mind when she signed. The case was dismissed.
I stepped onto the porch, looking at the cottage, the garden, the apple tree. Id always felt it was home. Now, my heart was at peace.
I tied my scarf and smiled.
So much still to do.
