«Listen, Mum, most of my mates parents helped them with a place to live,» said the grown son. «Im getting married sooncant you help me out with a flat? You dont want us living like vagrants, do you? You dont even have to buy onejust let us move into the one-bed youre renting out. Better yet, put it in my name… you know, to keep things fair!»
Margaret sat at the kitchen table, sifting through bills. Her husband, James, had left for work hours ago, but she still hadnt mustered the energy to tidy up. Her thoughts buzzed like a hive of disturbed bees. Lately, peace in the family had crumbledtheir youngest, Oliver, had been wearing her and James down with his constant demands.
Shed dreamed of finally living for herself: decorating the spare bedroom just how she liked, buying sleek new furniture for the lounge. Oliver would marry and move out with his wife, leaving the whole house to her and James. But that hope had shattered when their eldest, Emily, divorced her layabout husband, leaving her and the kidslittle Tommy and Rosiewith no choice but to move back in. The renovation plans were scrappedthe largest room went to Emily and the grandchildren instead.
Now, Olivers wedding to his fiancée, Victoria, was a month away. Hed moved her in months ago, and now seven people were crammed into a three-bed semi, practically tripping over each other.
Victoria walked into the kitchen. Margaret tensed at the sight of her.
«Morning, Margaret,» she said, adjusting her flawless ponytail. «Are you having breakfast, or shall I sit alone? Dont want to intrude.»
The cheek of itcalling her by her first name, no «Mrs. Harris,» no respect. Margaret disliked the girl, but Oliver worshipped the ground she walked on, so she bit her tongue.
«Good morning, Victoria. Ive eaten already,» Margaret replied coolly. «Give me five minutes to clear up, then you can have the kitchen.»
Victoria filled a glass with water. «Margaret, I wanted to askOliver and I were talking about where well live after the wedding. What do you think?»
Margaret set the bills aside. Here it wasthe strings theyd been pulling for months.
«Weve already discussed this. You can have the spare room.»
Victoria set her glass down, her face twisting into what Margaret had privately dubbed *patronising disdain*.
«Lets be honest, Margaret. Your home is lovelycosy, well-kept. But its *yours*. You and James have lived here thirty years. And now with Emily and the kids? Thats five extra people. We dont want to live under a microscope.»
«And what *do* you propose?» Margaret asked, irritation rising. «Youve got no savings for a place of your own. Rentings your only option.»
«Thats what were saying,» Victoria cut in, sitting across from her. «We thought about your rental flatthe one-bed you own. We could live there. Wed pay rent, of course… Or you could just *give* it to us.»
Margaret scoffed.
«Ive got two children, Victoria. Should I hand you the flat and leave Emily with nothing?»
«Emily can stay here,» Victoria shrugged. «Three bedroomsyou and James in one, Emily and the kids in another. Plenty of space.»
«Emily needs her own life,» Margaret said through gritted teeth. «And I wont be giving you that flat. Youre young, you worksort yourselves out.»
«But that could take *years*!» Victoria threw her hands up. «Olivers just got a promotion, but saving for a deposit? Five, seven years, easy! We want to live *now*!»
«Then why this lavish wedding?» Margarets tone left no room for argument. «Limos, doves, a hundred guestswhen you cant even afford rent? A registry office and a savings account wouldve been smarter.»
«Thats *your* idea of a wedding,» Victoria snapped. «We want ours to be perfect. I want the dress, the partyI want my friends to see were not struggling. Dont you get it?»
«Oh, I get it,» Margaret nodded. «You want to show off. But no home means no marriage. Smart couples secure a roof *first*.»
Victoria glared and stormed out.
***
That evening, Oliver confronted herclearly coached by Victoriathis time griping about their recent anniversary party.
«You and Dad celebrated thirty years at a fancy restaurant because you *could*,» Margaret shot back. «We scrimped for *ten years* to pay off the carthe one *we* gave *you*! And yes, we splurgedwe *earned* it!»
«You couldve had a barbecue at the cottage instead! Do you know how much I couldve used that money? Three grand? Four?»
Margaret turned on him. «*Youre* lecturing *me*? You couldnt even save for a decent suit*we* bought your wedding one! Were covering seventy percent of this circus, taking out loans for your *dream day*, and you *dare* complain?»
«Dont shout at me!» Oliver snapped. «Im just asking for whats fair. Where am I supposed to take my wife? Some mouldy bedsit? Mum, be *reasonable*!»
«And why cant *her* parents help?» Margaret fired back. «You want me to hand over my safety netthe flat *I* kept for *my* retirement! It stays rented.»
«Youve had your turnnow give *us* ours!»
«Your *sister* needs it more!»
Victoria barged in. «Emily can chase her ex for supportor take *this* house. Just give us the flat. Right, Olly?»
The argument spiralled. Oliver and Victoria werent asking anymorethey were *demanding*.
***
A week before the wedding, the house was oddly quietOliver and Victoria were at a friends cottage, Emily visiting relatives. Margaret and James were watching TV when the doorbell rang.
James answeredand in stormed Victorias mother, Zoe.
«Jim, love! Maggie home? Let me in!»
Margaret hurried to the hall just as Zoe kicked off her shoes.
«What do you want?»
Zoe smirked. «Came for a chat, love. The kids big days coming, and my Vickys in bits*because of you*!»
Margaret crossed her arms. «And what have I done now?»
«Dont play daft!» Zoe huffed. «Why wont you let them have that flat? Its *empty*! Too stingy to help your own son?»
«Why dont *you* buy them one?» Margaret countered.
Zoe blinked. «Whered I get that sort of money? Were just getting by! If *I* had a spare place, Id hand it over in a heartbeat. So stop being difficult!»
James had had enough. He shoved Zoe toward the door. «Out. Now. Tell your daughter the flats off the table*permanently*.»
As Zoe screeched curses down the driveway, James called Oliver. «Pack your things. Youre moving out *tonight*.»
**Lesson:** *Generosity should never be expectedits earned. And no one is entitled to the sacrifices youve made for your own future. Oliver arrived hours later, alone, his face pale with shock. He stood in the doorway, suitcase in hand, and for the first time, his voice cracked without anger. «I didnt think youd actually mean it.»
Margaret didnt flinch. «You stopped asking. You started taking. And that flat isnt yours to claimits my peace, my plan, my choice.»
He looked down the hall, at the home hed never had to leave before, and whispered, «What do I tell Victoria?»
She stepped aside. «Tell her youre living in a bedsit. Just like we all did once. Tell her its called a beginning.»
The door closed behind him, softly, finallyno slam, no tantrum. Just the quiet end of a demand, and the start of something harder, something honest.
