«We dont need Gran living with us,» the grandchildren decided at their little family meeting.
«Are you out of your minds? Thirty grand for that old banger? Its falling apart!» John Carter slammed the bonnet of the rusted Morris Minor and glared at the seller.
«Its not a banger, its a classic,» the man replied calmly, running his hand over the worn steering wheel. «They dont make em like this anymore. Nineteen seventy-eight, factory build. Got all the paperwork, fully restored. Engine runs like clockwork.»
«Clockwork that stopped ticking,» John snorted, turning to his wife. «Emma, lets go. Im not wasting money on this scrap.»
Emma sighed and gave the seller an apologetic smile. «Sorry, but my husbands right. We need something reliable for the cottagehauling things, getting back and forth. This ones just not»
«Take it, you wont regret it,» the seller pressed, trying to catch her eye. «Tell you what, Ill knock two grand off. Twenty-eight, and shes yours.»
«No, thank you,» Emma said firmly, taking Johns arm. «Well keep looking.»
They walked in silence through the rows of garages. John was still fuming, while Emma worried how much longer the search would drag on. Summer was coming, and they needed to figure out how theyd get to the cottage. Ever since their old Austin had been wrecked by a drunk driverthank heavens theyd walked away unharmedtheyd either taken the bus with two changes or paid neighbours for lifts.
«Maybe we should just take out a loan for a new one?» Emma suggested hesitantly as they left the lot.
«On our pensions?» John huffed. «No, well find something decent second-hand. Just need to look harder.»
«But summers nearly here, and we havent even dug the garden,» Emma said, adjusting her scarf against the brisk spring wind. «The kids promised to help, but you know how it is. James has work, Lucys got the little ones…»
«Exactlythe kids,» John said suddenly, perking up. «What if we asked Mary?»
«Gran Mary? My mum?» Emma stared at him. «Shes eighty-two. Wheres she going to drive?»
«Whats age got to do with it?» John waved a hand. «Your mothers fitter than I am. Does her exercises every morning, walks to the shops, meets her friends for tea. And shes got savings, remember? Always said she was putting aside for a rainy day. Well, its pouring.»
«John!» Emma was appalled. «How can you even think that? Thats her moneyshes saved it all her life. She wanted it for the grandchildrens education.»
«And wed be using it for them,» John insisted. «Buy a car, take them to the cottage. Fresh air, nature, berries right off the bush. Good for their health.»
Emma shook her head but said nothing. The idea of asking her mother for money sat badly with her. They barely saw each other these daysMary lived alone in her little terraced house on the outskirts of town, and it was a hassle to get there. To show up now with hands out No, it wasnt right.
At home, the children and grandchildren were waitingJames with his wife Sophie and their fourteen-year-old, Tom, and Lucy with her husband Mark and the twins, Lily and Oliver, whod just turned twelve. Sunday lunch was a tradition Emma had kept for years.
«Find a car yet?» James asked, helping set the table.
«No,» Emma sighed. «Everythings either too dear or a wreck.»
«Dads suggesting we ask Gran Mary for the money,» John announced, walking into the kitchen. «Shes got savings.»
«Gran Mary?» Lucy looked up from slicing bread. «Would she even agree?»
«I dont know,» Emma admitted. «I havent asked. And Im not sure we should.»
«Why not?» John sat down. «Who else is she leaving it to? Us and the grandkids.»
«She always said she wanted it for their education,» Emma reminded him.
«And wed be using it for them,» John repeated. «Taking them to the countrysidebetter than textbooks, learning about nature firsthand.»
Everyone chuckled, and the talk turned elsewhere. But after lunch, when the adults lingered over tea and the kids disappeared with their gadgets, John brought it up again.
«Em, Im serious,» he said, stacking plates. «We should talk to your mum. Family money ought to help the whole family.»
Emma hesitated. «I dont know, John. Shes always been independent. Doesnt like being told what to do with her things.»
«Whos telling her? Well just explain. Its not like were asking for a holidayits practical.»
That evening, as they gathered in the lounge, John suddenly said, «What if we asked Gran Mary to move in with us?»
Everyone turned to stare.
«With us?» Emma blinked. «John, weve barely enough room. Where would she sleep?»
«We could convert the storage room,» John suggested. «Or put a sofa bed in here. She wouldnt be alone in that house, and wed know shes looked after. At her age…»
«What about her house?» James asked carefully.
«Could rent it out,» John said brightly. «Two-bed terrace, even if its on the outskirtseasy twelve hundred a month. Thatd cover the car, the cottage, everything.»
Emma frowned. «John, were talking about my mother, not an income source. Shes lived there fifty years. All her memories are there.»
«Oh, come off it,» John scoffed. «What memories at her age? She needs care, company. We can give her that.»
Emma opened her mouth to argue, but Tom, glancing up from his phone, cut in:
«Does Gran Mary know about this plan?»
«Not yet,» John said. «Were working out how to ask.»
«What if she says no?» Lily asked.
«Well persuade her,» John said confidently. «Explain its best for everyone.»
«Best for everyoneor for you?» Olivers quiet voice was sharp.
«Oliver!» Lucy scolded.
«Im not being rude,» Oliver said evenly. «Just wondering who really benefitsGran or us?»
An awkward silence fell. John cleared his throat.
«Course were thinking of Gran. Its hard for her alone. With us, shed have family around.»
«Have you asked her if its hard?» Oliver pressed. «We barely visit. Just birthdays and Christmas.»
«Everyones busy,» Emma said weakly.
«Exactly,» John jumped in. «If she lived here, wed see her daily.»
The grandchildren exchanged glances. Emma noticed their lack of enthusiasm. Gran Mary was strict, old-fashionedthe sort who disapproved of screens, social media, and «wasting time on the internet.»
«We should ask Gran first,» Lucy said, eyeing her children. «She might not want to leave her home.»
«Of course well ask,» Emma agreed. «Ill go tomorrow.»
«Ill come,» John said quickly. «Two of usll convince her faster.»
The next day, Emma and John drove to Marys. She welcomed them warmlylaid out biscuits, brewed tea, baked Johns favourite apple tart.
«Howve you been, Mum?» Emma asked, helping in the kitchen.
«Right as rain,» Mary said briskly. «Morning exercises, shopping, tea with the girls. Life goes on.»
«Thats what we wanted to talk about,» John began at the table. «Your life, Mary.»
«Whats wrong with it?» Mary eyed him warily.
«Nothing,» Emma said quickly. «We just thought maybe youd like to move in with us? Wed make space, look after you»
«Move in? With you?» Marys eyebrows shot up. «Whats brought this on?»
«Well,» John said, «at your age, things happen. With us, youd have family close.»
Mary studied him, then turned to Emma. «And my house?»
«Wed rent it,» John said airily. «Extra income never hurts. Especially now we need a car for the cottage.»
«I see,» Mary said slowly. «So you want money from my house?»
«Its not just that,» Emma said, shooting John a look. «We worry about you.»
«Is that why you havent visited in four months?» Marys smile was thin.
«Everyones busy,» John said. «But if you lived with us»
«Right.» Mary set down her fork. «What do the grandchildren think?»
«Theyre thrilled,» John lied.
Mary snorted. «Doubt that. Teens have their own lives. And my rules dont sit well with modern ways.»
She stood. «Ill think about it. Give me a week.»
Back home, the grandchildren were waiting, solemn-faced.
«Weve had a meeting,» Tom announced.
«What meeting?» John frowned.
«About Gran,» Lily said.
Emmas stomach tightened. «And?»
«We dont need Gran living here,» Oliver said plainly. «Not like this. Shes happy in her home. You just want her money.»
John spluttered. «Thats not»
«It is,» Tom cut in. «Shes saved all her lifefor emergencies, for us. And youd spend it on a car?»
Emma looked at them, stunned. When had they grown so wise?
In the end, she called Mary the next morning.
«Mum, weve changed our minds. But well visit more. Have you over, too.»
Mary chuckled. «Good. I wasnt moving anyway. But seeing the kids? That Ill take.»
Later, Emma smiled to herself. The children had been right. Gran wasnt a purse or a burden. She was familystrict, old-fashioned, but loved. Her place was where she chose.
And the car? Theyd manage. Money wasnt happiness. Family was.
