**Remembering Grandad with Kind Words**
*»The flat? What do you mean, ‘your flat’?»*
*»Mum, Grandads flat. He left it to me. You even rented it out. Dont you remember?»* Emilys voice wavered.
*»Oh that one.»* Catherine shrugged, her tone casual. *»It was never really yours. Forget it. I sold it.»*
Emilys pulse spiked. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Her legs buckled, forcing her to sit.
*»You sold it?»*
*»Well, obviously. Listed it on Rightmove, found a buyer. Steves car broke down, and you know hes useless without it. Needed a new one.»*
Emily couldnt even respond. She slammed the phone down. A sharp, suffocating ache twisted inside her chest.
She remembered Grandad, grinning as he showed off the freshly done-up bedroom, saying it would all be hers one day.
*»When youre older, love, youll have your own little castle. Right from the start. Youll thank me for it…»* Hed ruffled her hair fondly.
Hed died when she was twelve. Back then, the idea of owning a flat hadnt really sunk in. Sure, she knew it was goodbut she couldnt grasp the weight of it. So when she found out Grandads promise had never been made official, she hadnt been too upset.
*»The flats staying in my name for now,»* Catherine had declared, the sole heir. *»Grandad wanted me to look after itmake sure you didnt waste it. Ill rent it out, cover the bills, maybe update the furniture. You dont want some run-down dump with debts, do you?»*
*»No, of course not,»* Emily agreed easily.
*»Exactly. This way, I handle the tenants, not you. When youre older, well transfer it. Dont worry, love. Id never cheat you.»*
And that was that. For years, Emily forgot about the flatshe was too busy with school. It only resurfaced when she finished sixth form.
*»Mum, Ive been talking to my mate,»* she ventured hesitantly. *»Were applying to the same uni. Thought maybe we could live there together? Split the bills. I want to start being independent.»*
Shed expected it to be a formality. That her mum would happily agree. That soon, shed have late-night chats with her best mate, giggling over boys and coursework.
But no.
*»Emily, independent at eighteen? On what money?»* Catherine scoffed. *»Youd have to juggle work and uniimpossible. And what if your mate moves in with some bloke? Then what? Mum, bail me out?»*
The hurt lodged under her ribs, but her mums arguments still made sense. She was the adultEmily had never even lived alone.
Mortified, Emily apologised to her friend, scrapping their plans.
Independence seemed impossibleuntil her mum offered an alternative.
*»Why not look at unis outside London? They do student halls. Same thing you want, but free. Ill send you some cash from the rent. Not loads, but enough.»*
Emily could hardly believe it. She threw her arms around her mum, kissing her cheek.
For the first six months, it was perfect. Then Catherine sent less money than usual.
*»Had to see the dentist. Spent a fortune. Well both have to tighten our belts.»*
Then the payments came late. If the rent came in on the 10th, Emily got it a week later. Then later still.
Then she found out her mum had moved Steve in almost immediately after she left.
Steve had another familya wife, though he swore he was divorcing her. The «process» never ended. And that wasnt his only flaw.
Catherine complained constantly about him, using Emily as a sounding board. Every call left Emily hollow. She saw ithow Steve used her mum. But Catherine refused to listen.
*»He asked me for money yesterday! Said he wanted to take his kids to the park. Since when do I feed his kids?»*
*»Mum you gave it to him?»*
*»Well, yeah. What else could I do? Decent men dont grow on trees.»*
*»Decent men dont bleed you dry and give nothing back.»*
*»Stop it! Im not some gold-digger. Were in love!»* Catherine snapped, ending the call.
Steve took everything. Lived rent-free, ate her food. When his coat tore, Catherine bought him a new one.
What did she get in return? Nothing. He worked in construction, yet when the plumbing needed fixing, he charged her triple.
No giftsexcept a lamp for Mothers Day. Even then, at the till, he was short. Catherine paid most of it herself.
Then Steve started showing her plots of land, hinting hed build them a houseif the deed was in his name. Catherine gushed to Emily about dream gazebos.
*»Mum, wake up! Hes a freeloader! Hes not even your husband!»*
*»Oh, what do you know?»* Catherine hissed. *»Its my life! Dont I deserve happiness?»*
After that, she stopped mentioning Stevewhich was a relief.
By third year, the money stopped completely.
*»Got laid off. Youll have to manage on your own, love.»*
Betrayed, Emily said nothing. She scraped bytutoring, moderating forums, anything.
After graduation, she called her mum, ready to tell the tenants to leave.
Thats when she learned the flat was gone.
But Emily had a card to play. Not as big, but something. Half her mums house was legally hers.
She didnt remember straight away. First, she scrambled for a place to live, burning through savings.
Two weeks later, she called.
*»Mum, since its come to this I want whats mine. Im selling my share.»* Her voice was steel, though inside, she trembled.
*»What?! Thats mine!»*
*»Lifes unfair. You sold my flat. I need to live.»*
*»Your flat? You never paid a penny toward it! I managed everything!»*
Emilys throat tightened. She wanted to scream about Grandads broken promisebut she wouldnt stoop to a shouting match.
*»Mum, listen. Either you buy me out, or I sell to someone else.»*
*»After all Ive done for you! Youre worse than your father!»*
Emily hung up. The next day, she sent a formal notice of sale by post. No face-to-face.
A month later, the money hit her account. Enough to start fresh.
*»Sorry, Grandad,»* she whispered. *»But you taught me not to trust words.»*
She felt wretched. Hed wanted them to live happily, each in their own home.
But her home had turned into someone elses carso shed played dirty too.
