**Diary Entry 15th March**
I never thought it would come to thisa family meeting where we actually debated asking Gran for money.
«You must be joking!» Gerald practically slammed the bonnet of that rusted old Rover. «Thirty thousand quid for this scrap heap? Its barely holding together!» He glared at the seller, who remained unfazed.
«Its not scrapits a classic,» the man said, running a hand over the worn steering wheel. «Nineteen seventy-four model, fully restored. Runs like clockwork.»
«Clockwork thats stopped ticking,» Gerald scoffed. He turned to me. «Margaret, lets go. Im not wasting money on this.»
I sighed, offering the seller an apologetic smile. «Hes right, Im afraid. We need something practical for the cottagehauling bits and bobs, weekend trips.»
«Tell you whattwenty-eight grand, and shes yours,» the man pressed.
«No, thank you,» I said firmly, linking my arm through Geralds.
We walked in silence through the rows of garages. Gerald was still fuming, while I worriedsummer was coming, and without a car, wed be stranded. The old Vauxhall had been written off by a drunk driver last winter (thank God we werent hurt), leaving us to rely on buses or hitching lifts with neighbours for a fiver.
«Maybe we should take out a loan for a new one?» I suggested hesitantly once we were outside.
«On our pensions?» Gerald snorted. «No, well find something decent second-hand. Just need to keep looking.»
«But summers nearly here, and the gardens not even dug,» I said, tightening my scarf against the brisk spring wind. «The kids promised to help, but you know how it isStevens got work, and Lucys got the little ones.»
«Exactlythe kids,» Gerald said, suddenly animated. «What if we asked Emma?»
«Gran Emma? My mother? Shes eighty-two!» I stared at him.
«Age is just a number,» he waved off. «Your mums fitter than I ammorning exercises, shopping, coffee with the girls. Besides, shes got savings. Remember? For the grandchildrens future, she always says.»
«Gerald!» I was appalled. «Thats her moneyshe worked her whole life for it!»
«And whos she leaving it to? Us, the grandchildren,» he countered. «Wed use it for themtrips to the cottage, fresh air, strawberries. Good for their health.»
I shook my head but didnt argue. The thought of asking Mum for money sat like a stone in my stomach. We barely saw her as it wasshe lived alone in her little flat on the outskirts of town, and visiting was a trek.
That Sunday, the family gathered for lunchSteven with his wife, Claire, and their fourteen-year-old, Jack; Lucy with her husband, Mark, and the twins, Sophie and Oliver, whod just turned twelve.
«Found a car yet?» Steven asked, helping me set the table.
«No,» I sighed. «Everythings either too dear or falling apart.»
«Dads suggesting we ask Gran for the money,» Gerald announced, joining us.
«Gran?» Lucy paused mid-slice. «Would she»
«I havent asked,» I admitted. «And Im not sure we should.»
«Shes saving for the grandchildrens education,» I reminded them.
«Wed be using it for them,» Gerald insisted. «Natures educationbetter than textbooks!»
Everyone laughed, and the topic shifted. But after lunch, when the kids had scattered, Gerald brought it up again.
«Margaret, Im serious. Its family moneyshouldnt it help the family?»
I hesitated. «Mums always been independent. She wont like being told how to spend her savings.»
«Whos telling? Well explain. Its not like were asking for a holiday.»
Later, Gerald made another suggestion: «What if Gran moved in with us?»
The room went silent.
«With us?» I blinked. «Gerald, weve no space!»
«Convert the storage room,» he said. «Or put a bed in the lounge. She shouldnt be alone at her age.»
«What about her flat?» Steven asked cautiously.
«We could rent it out,» Gerald said brightly. «Two-bed, decent locationeasy twenty-five hundred a month. Thatd cover the car and then some.»
I stiffened. «Were talking about my mother, not an income stream.»
«Come off it,» Gerald huffed. «At her age, she needs company. We could give her that.»
Before I could protest, Jack looked up from his phone. «Does Gran know about this?»
«Not yet,» Gerald said.
«What if she doesnt want to?» Sophie asked.
«Well persuade her,» Gerald said confidently.
«For her sake or ours?» Oliver said quietly.
The room fell still.
«Oliver!» Lucy snapped.
«Im just asking,» he said. «We hardly visit her. Only birthdays and Christmas.»
«Work, schoolits not easy,» I murmured.
«Exactly,» Gerald jumped in. «If she lived here, wed see her every day.»
The twins exchanged glances. Gran Emma was strictold-school, forever scolding them for being on their phones. She didnt understand social media and thought cartoons were childish nonsense.
«Maybe ask Gran first,» Lucy said carefully. «She might not want to leave her friends.»
«Of course well ask,» I agreed. «Ill go tomorrow.»
Next day, Gerald and I visited Mum. She welcomed us warmlytea, scones, Geralds favourite apple cake.
«How are you managing, Mum?» I asked as we tidied up.
«Perfectly,» she said briskly. «Exercise, shopping, book club. Lifes ticking along.»
Gerald cleared his throat. «Margaret and I were thinking perhaps youd like to live with us?»
Mums eyes narrowed. «Why the sudden concern?»
«We worry,» I said. «You shouldnt be alone.»
«And my flat?»
«Wed rent it,» Gerald said. «Help with expenseswe need a car for the cottage.»
«Ah.» Mum set her cup down. «So you need the money.»
I shot Gerald a look. «We just want you close.»
«You havent visited in months,» she said dryly.
«Lifes busy,» Gerald said. «But if you lived with us»
«Ill think on it,» Mum cut in. «Give me a week.»
When we got home, the grandchildren were waiting.
«Weve had a meeting,» Jack said solemnly. «About Gran.»
«Oh?» Gerald frowned.
«We dont want her living here,» Oliver said bluntly.
«What?» Gerald spluttered.
«Its not fair,» Sophie explained. «Her whole lifes in that flat. You just want money from renting it.»
Gerald rubbed his temples. «So whats your solution?»
«Visit her,» Jack said. «Weekly. All of us, in turns.»
«And invite her here,» Sophie added. «But not forever. She deserves her own space.»
I stared at them, stunned. Theyd seen right through us.
That night, I lay awake, guilt twisting inside me. Mums independence, her pridewed treated her like an inconvenience.
Next morning, I called her.
«Mum, weve changed our minds. But well visit more. Is that alright?»
She chuckled. «I wasnt moving anyway. But more visits? That Ill take.»
«Andabout the car. Ive some savings. Perhaps I could»
«No,» I said softly. «Keep them. Well manage.»
She sighed. «At my age, whats a rainy day? Just promise youll bring the grandchildren.»
I hung up, smiling. The kids were right. Gran didnt need to be uprooted for our convenience. She needed to be lovedon her terms, in her own home.
As for the car? Wed figure it out. Because happiness isnt in a shiny new motorits in a family thats honest, and kind, and knows what really matters.
