Many years ago, on a crisp spring morning in London, Eleanor sat reading on her balcony when her husband, Edward, stepped outside. «We’re going to sell your flat and move in with my parents,» he announced. «Mum and Dad have everything readya room upstairs with its own bath. It’ll be quite comfortable.»
Eleanor set her book aside. The air smelled of blooming daffodils after a long winter. She studied Edward’s face, his expression too resolute for a Saturday. «Pardon?» she asked, hoping she’d misheard.
He repeated himself, stepping closer. «Mum says it’s the sensible thing to do. We’ll put the money from the sale into savings.»
«Whose savings?» Eleanor pressed.
«The family’s, of course. Mum’s always had a good head for finances.»
Eleanor rose and gripped the balcony railing. Below, children played in the squarejust as she had as a girl, visiting her grandmother during school holidays.
«Your mother decided what I should do with my own flat?»
«Don’t start, Ellie. We’re discussing this rationally.»
«Discussing? You’ve presented it as already settled.»
Edward reached for her hand, but she pulled away.
«It’s logical,» he insisted. «Why keep two homes? My parents arent getting any younger, and this placewhats so special about it? Just another terrace house in the suburbs.»
«My childhood was here,» Eleanor said quietly. «Gran left it to me because she knew Id treasure it.»
«Sentimentality wont pay the bills. Mums rightwe must think of the future.»
«Whose future? Hers?»
Edward stiffened. He never took kindly to criticism of his parents, especially his mother. Margaret had raised him alone until she remarried Charles when Edward was ten. Since then, hed considered it his duty to defend her.
«Enough,» he snapped. «The decisions made. Were meeting the estate agent Monday.»
«What decision? Made by whom?»
«By me. Im the head of this household.»
Eleanor laughed bitterly. «The head? Edward, I thought we were equals.»
«Equals dont cling to relics. Mum sold her flat when she married Dad, and they managed perfectly well.»
«Your mother sold a studio in Croydon and moved into your fathers manor. Bit different, isnt it?»
Edward flushed. He hated when she pointed out truths he preferred to ignore.
«Dont speak of my parents that way!»
«Im stating facts. And heres anotherI am NOT selling this flat.»
«Well see,» Edward hissed before storming off.
Eleanor stayed, the sun warming her face. She thought of Gran, whod worked as a nurse her whole life to buy this place. «Ellie,» she used to say, «a woman must always have a door she can close. Remember that.»
That evening, Edward brought his parents over «for tea.» Eleanor knew better. Margaret swept in, her sharp eyes appraising the flat.
«Goodness, no ones touched this place in decades,» she declared. «The wallpapers faded, the floorboards creak. Imagine the cost to make it presentable!»
Charles lingered quietly in the sitting room, as was his habit.
«Tea? Coffee?» Eleanor offered.
«Earl Grey, no sugar,» Margaret replied. «We watch our figures.»
In the kitchen, Edward followed her. «Dont be difficult. They only want to help.»
«Help with what? Taking my home?»
«You wont be homeless. Youll have a room at theirs.»
«A room under their rules, their schedule.»
«Whats wrong with order? Mum likes things tidy.»
Eleanors hands shook as she arranged biscuits on a tray.
In the sitting room, Margaret had spread papers across the table. «Sit down, Eleanor. We must discuss details.»
«What details?»
«The sale, of course. Ive had a word with agents. A property like this could fetch a tidy sum, though well have to lower expectations given the state of it.»
«Margaret, I am NOT selling.»
Margarets eyebrows shot up. «Excuse me? Edward said youd agreed.»
«Edward LIED.»
«Ellie!» Edward protested. «We talked about this»
«You talked. I said no.»
Margaret straightened, her face hardening. «Young lady, you dont understand. Edward is my only son. I wont have some»
«Some what?» Eleanor cut in. «Go on, say it.»
«Some girl from God-knows-where manipulating him.»
«Me, manipulate him? Youre the one forcing me to sell my home!»
Charles cleared his throat. «Margaret, perhaps»
«Quiet, Charles!» she snapped. «Eleanor, be reasonable. Youll be more comfortable with us. A proper kitchen, a garden. What more could you want?»
«Freedom,» Eleanor replied.
«From what? From family?»
«From your CONTROL.»
Margaret flushed. «I care about my sons future!»
«His future or yours?» Eleanor pressed. «Why do you need the money from my flat?»
A silence fell. Margaret and Charles exchanged glances. Edward looked between them, bewildered.
«What are you implying?» he demanded. «Ellie, thats beyond the pale!»
«If your parents are so well-off, why do they need my flats sale?»
«Its family money!» Margaret cried.
«No,» Eleanor said firmly. «The deeds are in my name. Its MINE.»
«Selfish!» Margaret spat. «Edward, do you see what you married?»
«Darling, calm down»
«Dont tell me to calm down! I devoted my life to you, and this is how you repay me?»
«Enough,» Eleanor stood. «Please leave.»
Edward gaped. «You cant throw them out!»
«I can, and I am. Goodbye, Margaret. Charles.»
Margaret stood, trembling. «Edward, were leaving. If your wife wont value family, neither shall we.»
«But, Mum»
«Now!»
Edward looked helplessly at Eleanor. «Apologise. Youre in the wrong.»
«For what? Not surrendering my home?»
«For insulting my mother!»
«She insulted me first. But you didnt notice, did you?»
Edward clenched his fists. «Perhaps Mums right. You only think of yourself.»
«And you only think of her. Maybe you shouldve married her instead.»
Edward paled. Margaret seized his arm. «Come, darling. Dont waste breath on ingrates.»
The door slammed behind them. Alone, Eleanor stared at the papers left behindestate agent listings, draft contracts.
«They never doubted Id comply,» she realised.
The days that followed passed in silence. Edward slept on the sofa, left early, returned late. When she tried to speak, he answered in grunts.
On Thursday, Eleanor came home to find a stranger pacing the flat, scribbling notes.
«Who are you?» she demanded.
«Mr. Whitmore, surveyor,» he said. «Your husband let me in to assess the property.»
«He had no right. Leave.»
The man shrugged and left. Eleanor phoned Edward.
«How dare you bring in a surveyor without telling me?»
«I wanted a valuation. Nothing sinister.»
«This is MY flat. Youve no right to dispose of it.»
«Youre my wife. Whats yours is mine.»
«No. Its pre-marital assets.»
«Technicalities. Were married.»
«Marriage isnt license to STEAL.»
«Steal? Thats libel!»
He hung up. He didnt return that night. Eleanor rang his friend Thomas.
«Hes with me,» Thomas said. «Ellie, whats happened between you two?»
«Ask him.»
«He says you wont compromise with his parents.»
«I wont sell my home. Is that a crime?»
Thomas hesitated. «Perhaps meet halfway?»
«What halfway? Become dependent on his mother?»
«Edwards upset. Says his mothers in tears.»
«Let her cry. Thats no reason to strip me of my home.»
On Saturday, a sharp knock came. A woman in a tailored suit stood there.
«Victoria Clarke, solicitor for the Winstons,» she said. Margarets maiden name.
Eleanor let her in.
«Eleanor, Im here about the flat.»
«Its not for sale.»
«I understand your position. But consideryouve been married three years. The Winstons have done much for you.»
«Such as?»
«The wedding, holidays, gifts…»
«Gifts, not loans. Or did Margaret expect repayment?»
Victoria smiled thinly. «Shes generous, but expects reciprocity.»
«Blackmail, then?»
«Not at all. Merely reminding you that family means mutual support.»
«Support doesnt mean ROBBERY.»
«You exaggerate. The funds would benefit the family.»
«What family needs?»
Victoria faltered. «Thats private.»
«If it involves my flat, its my concern.»
«Margarets willing to compromisea room with a balcony in their home.»
«How generous. A room for a two-bed flat.»
«Plus a loving family.»
«A family thats bleeding me dry.»
Victoria sighed. «Edward could file for divorce.»
«Let him.»
«And claim half the marital estate.»
«The flats pre-marital. Exempt.»
«But the bedroom was refurbished during marriage. With Edwards money.»
Eleanor laughed. «You mean the paint job for five hundred quid? Really?»
«Any improvements can make property joint.»
«Prove that in court.»
Victoria stood. «Is a home worth breaking a family?»
«Im not the one breaking it.»
The solicitor left a card. Eleanor tore it up.
On Monday, her colleague Lydia approached her.
«Ellie, is it true youre divorcing?»
«Whered you hear that?»
«Edward posted online. Says you threw him out over property.»
Eleanor checked her phone. Edward had written a lengthy post painting himself as the wronged husband, her as the materialistic villain.
«Delete it,» she demanded when she called him.
«Why? Its true.»
«You lied. You left.»
«After you insulted my mother.»
«Delete it, or Ill post my side.»
«Go ahead. See who they believe.»
That evening, Eleanor wrote her versionfactual, unemotional. The scandal erupted. Friends took sides.
A week later, Edward returned, haggard.
«Ellie, we need to talk.»
«About what?»
«Us. Our future.»
«Do we have one?»
He sank onto the sofa. «I dont want divorce. But Mum…»
«What about her?»
«Shell cut me from the will unless I make you sell.»
«And whats in this will?»
«The house, accounts, Dads business.»
«So its me or their money?»
«Its not that simple!»
«Its very simple. Choose me, or choose her wealth.»
«Dont be crude!»
«Then be honest. Why does she need my flats money?»
Edward hesitated. «Theyve debts.»
«Debts? I thought they were rich!»
«Dad made bad investments. The house is mortgaged.»
Eleanor sat beside him. «Why not say so earlier?»
«Mum forbade it. Family business.»
«And the solution is my flat?»
«Itll buy time. Pay off the worst creditors.»
«Edward, thats not a solution. Its a plaster on a wound.»
«What then? Let them lose the house?»
«Be honest. Had they been upfront, we mightve found another way.»
«Like what?»
«Let the flat. Steady income.»
«Mum would never live off your rent.»
«Then she finds another way.»
Edward paced. «You dont understand. Losing that house would destroy her.»
«Im sorry. Truly. But I wont pay for their mistakes.»
«Their mistakes? Theyre my parents!»
«To me, theyre strangers. Especially after how they treated me.»
«Youre heartless!»
«Im rational. They tried to cheat me, bully me. Now Im to hand them my home?»
«For us! Were family!»
«No, Edward. Family means trust. Not lies.»
He grabbed his coat. «Mum was right. Youre selfish.»
«And youre a mummys boy. Perhaps thats the real issue.»
He slammed the door. His phone buzzed on the tablea message from Margaret:
«Darling, how did it go? Did she agree?»
Eleanor left it unanswered.
Next morning, pounding shook the door.
«Eleanor, open up!» Margaret shouted.
Eleanor opened it a crack. «Yes?»
«Edwards phone! Dont pretend you dont have it!»
«Its here. He can collect it himself.»
«He wont see you!»
«Likewise.»
Margaret turned purple. «Ill call the police!»
«Do. Explain why youre harassing me.»
«Its my sons home too!»
«No. Hes not on the deeds.»
Charles tugged her arm. «Margaret, enough.»
«That girl ruined our boy!»
«Your boy ruined himself choosing money over his wife.»
«You!»
Neighbours peered out. Old Mr. Thompson frowned. «Everything alright?»
«Fine,» Eleanor said. «Just former in-laws causing a scene.»
Margaret sputtered, but Charles dragged her away.
That evening, Edward collected his things in silence.
«Well discuss the divorce later,» Eleanor said.
«Whats to discuss? You chose a flat over me.»
«No. You chose your mother over us.»
He left. The door closed, and with it, a weight lifted.
The divorce was swift. Edward didnt contest the flat, knowing hed lose. Eleanor asked nothing of him.
A month later, she bumped into Thomas at a café.
«Hows Edward?» she asked, stirring her tea.
«Dunno. We dont speak.»
«I do,» Thomas said. «All three are crammed in a bedsit in Peckham. Lost the house to debts.»
Eleanor nodded. She wasnt surprised.
«Margaret works at a Boots now,» he added. «Edwards just a clerk. Skint.»
«I am sorry for them,» she said, and meant it.
«Edward asks after you. Says he was wrong.»
«Too late.»
Thomas studied her. «Are you happy?»
Eleanor smiled. «Ive redone the balcony. New chair, flowers. Some mornings, I sit there with a book and think how right I was.»
«No regrets?»
«None. This flat only became a home once the lies left with him. Just me here now, and thats enough. For now, its enough.»
She stood, gathering her things. «Must go. Decorators are comingnew wallpaper for the bedroom. My money, my flat. As it should be.»
Walking home, she breathed in the spring air, savouring the sunshineand her freedom.
