The old cottage greeted Evelyn Clarke with a stale breath and a heavy silence. She flung the windows wide, letting in May sunshine and the scent of lilacs. It had been a month since her grandfather, Michael Stevens, passed, and only now had she gathered the courage to travel back and sort through his belongings.
Michael had been more than a grandfather; after her parents died young, he became her whole family, raising her, teaching her, keeping her upright. In recent years their meetings were rareher job in the city, his life in the countryside, the endless rush of everyday duties. Now, standing in the living room where every item whispered his name, Evelyn chided herself for every day she had let slip by without him.
The phone rang, cutting through the quiet.
Eve, have you started yet? aunt Geraldines voice sounded unusually gentle. Victor and I will be there tomorrow to help with the furniture. Dont move anything valuable, alright?
Of course, Aunt Gerry, Evelyn replied, eyes fixed on her grandfathers sideboard glazed with seashells. Im just sorting through his things, the papers.
Good, good. After the reading of the will theres been a bit of an awkwardness dont be upset that Granddad left you only his books and the piano. He just wanted to be fair.
Evelyn pressed her lips together. At the funeral the solicitor had read the will, which divided the house and the bulk of Michaels estate between his childrenGeraldine and Victor. Evelyn received only the books, an old upright piano and a pocket watch with his initialstreasured, yes, but not of great monetary worth.
Its all right, Aunt Gerry. I dont need anything else.
Exactly! You have your own flat, your own life. Victor and I could use the cottage for the summergarden season is coming. See you tomorrow!
She hung up and exhaled heavily. Granddad had always said the house would be hers. Who else would it belong to if not you, my dear? You alone understand what a family home feels like. Perhaps at the last moment he had changed his mind. It was his right.
All day she sifted through the books. Each volume held a memory: a battered fairytale collection he used to read to her at night, the school textbooks where he, a former teacher, had helped her with maths. Between the pages she found dried flowers, old photographs, marginal notes in his neat hand.
By evening she reached his study. The small room, with its massive oak desk and floortoceiling shelves, had always been Evelyns secret sanctuary. As a child Michael had forbidden her from entering without knockingthe creative lab, hed joked. Here he penned his memoirs, kept diaries, sorted archives.
She turned the drawers with reverence, pulling out yellowed notebooks, timestained envelopes. In the lower drawer lay a bundle of letters tied with twineletters from her grandmother, a woman Evelyn had never met. Beside them sat a worn leather diary.
Opening it, she read an entry dated the previous year: Call S.P. about the new will. Destroy the old one.
Her heart lurched. A new will? At the reading, solicitor Sergei Pavlovich had presented only one document.
She kept searching, methodically combing each box. Behind a stack of old newspapers in the filing cabinet she discovered an envelope marked, Will. Copy. Original with solicitor S.P. The date on the envelope was a month before Michaels death.
With trembling hands Evelyn slipped the paper out and began to read. In this document Michael left the entire cottage, the garden plot and all valuable items to her, Evelyn. His children, Geraldine and Victor, were to receive cash payments instead.
This decision isnt about favouring one heir over another, the will read, but about preserving the integrity of the family nest. Evelyn is the only one who values this house not as property but as the heart of our history. I trust she will keep it for future generations.
Evelyn sank into her grandfathers armchair, unable to digest the words. Why hadnt the second will been shown? Had the solicitor known about it? What now?
That night she lay awake on the old bed in what had once been her bedroom, turning possibilities over in her mind. Presenting the will would spark a scandal. Geraldine and Victor were already drawing up plans for the cottage, splitting the land. Theyd never been close to Michael, visiting only on occasion. Did that give them any lesser right?
The next morning, barely having sipped her tea, she heard the rumble of an engine. Geraldine stormed in first, her voice booming, her movements brisk.
Eve, Megan and I have arrived, she announced, nodding toward her daughter, who shuffled reluctantly in the hallway. Well see what we can take right now. Victor will be here later with the movers.
Good morning, Evelyn forced a smile. I havent finished sorting yet
Dont worry, well help! Geraldine swept through the rooms, eyeing the furnishings. Ill take this sideboard and the bedroom chest. Youre okay with that, Megan?
Megan shrugged. Whatever, Mum. Im only here for Grandpas coin collection, remember?
Of course, of course! Evelyn, wheres the coin collection? He spent his life gathering those, you know. Megans keepsake.
Evelyn felt a swell of outrage. The numismatic collection had been Michaels pride. Hed shown her each new coin, recounted its story. And now it was to go to Megan, who had shown up to the funeral with a sour expression as if shed been ripped from something vital.
Aunt Gerry, Evelyn began cautiously, did you speak with the solicitor after the will was read?
Geraldine froze, turning sharply. With Sergei Pavlovich? No, why?
Its just I think somethings off with the will.
What do you mean? she asked, narrowing her eyes.
I found a reference to another, later will in his papers.
A heavy silence settled over the room. Megan stopped examining the sideboard and turned toward them, curiosity flickering.
What nonsense? Geraldine finally said, her voice cracking. There was only one will, the one they read.
I think we should call Sergei Pavlovich, Evelyn said firmly. I have a copy of the other document.
Geraldines face went pale. Eve, listen why stir this up? Father made his choice, he divided everything fairly. You got the things he loved mostbooks, piano. He knew you love music.
Its not about the objects, Aunt Gerry. Its about Granddads final wish. If he changed his mind, we must respect it.
Changed his mind? Geraldine sneered. He spent his whole life thinking of you! Your parents diedtragic, of coursebut why did he always put you above his own children? Were we strangers to him?
Evelyn was taken aback by the sudden accusation.
I never asked for special treatment
Yes, you never asked! You were always there. Always. We have our own lives, our own worries. We cant sit with him forever.
Mum, calm down, Megan interjected. Whats this fuss about? If theres another will, let the lawyers sort it out.
The front door opened and Victor stepped ina solid man with a face uncannily similar to Michaels.
What are you all arguing about? he asked, scanning the tense faces.
Evelyn found another will, Geraldine blurted. Says Granddad left everything to her.
Victor walked slowly to the sofa and sank into it. Really?
His tone was flat, tired. Evelyn looked at him. Did you know about it?
Victor sighed. Granddad mentioned wanting to change the will. He said the house should stay whole, not be split. He thought you were the only one who truly loved it.
And you kept quiet?! Geraldine shouted, eyes flashing. Traitor!
Dont shout, Gerry, Victor replied wearily. I didnt know if hed actually signed the new document or just thought about it. Either way, the cottage is old, needs constant upkeep. Its an asset for us to sell. To Evelyn, its just a memory.
So youre on her side? Geraldine snapped, flinging her hands. Wonderful! Well give everything to the girl and be left with nothing!
Mum, stop, Megan rolled her eyes. Victors right. We dont need the cottage; you said youd sell it and buy a flat in town.
Evelyn listened, feeling detached. They spoke of the house as a piece of real estate, a chunk of land. To her it was an entire worldits smells, sounds, recollections.
I propose this, she said finally. We call Sergei Pavlovich and sort out the wills. If Granddads last wish truly was to leave the house to me, Ill pay you both compensation for your shares, over time.
What compensation? Geraldine scoffed. Your librarian salary?
I could take a loan, or sell my flat.
Mum, enough, Megan intervened. Lets just call the solicitor.
Sergei Pavlovich arrived within the hour, briefcase in hand, and took a seat in the living room, his eyes flicking between the gathered family.
So youve found a second will, he said after Evelyn explained. May I see it?
She handed him the document. He studied it, checking dates and signatures.
It is a genuine copy, he confirmed. Michael did draft a new will shortly before he died.
Why wasnt it presented? Geraldine demanded.
Sergei lowered his glasses, rubbing his nose. A week before his death Michael called me, said he wanted to cancel the earlier one. He arranged a meeting, but he never made it.
So his final intention was to revert to the original? Victor asked.
I cant say for certain, Sergei replied cautiously. He didnt give reasons over the phone, only that he didnt want family strife.
Evelyn felt tears well up. Granddad had thought of them to the very end, even at the cost of his own wishes.
Legally, Sergei continued, the last valid will that was not formally revoked stands. Thats the one leaving the cottage to Evelyn. But
But what? Geraldine pressed.
But if you contest it, citing Michaels phone call, this could drag on for years. No one wins except the lawyers.
Silence fell. Evelyn stared out the window at the ancient apple tree Michael had planted before she was born, its blossoms white as winter snow each spring. He used to say, While the apple tree flowers, the house lives.
I wont press the second will, Evelyn said suddenly, turning to her relatives. Let things stay as they are.
What? Megan asked, surprised. Youre giving up the house?
No, Evelyn shook her head. I suggest a different solution. The cottage remains in joint ownership. No one sells it. Ill stay here, keep it tidy. Youre welcome to visit any timesummer, weekends, holidaysjust like a real family home.
Why would you do that? Geraldine asked, bewildered. You could have it all to yourself.
Because Granddad wanted us to be a family, Evelyn replied simply. He feared inheritance would tear us apart, and he was ready to change his last wish for that reason. I want to honor him.
Victor looked at his niece for a long moment, then nodded slowly. I agree. Thats right.
Geraldine hesitated, torn between the lure of cash and the uneasy feeling that Evelyns offer was something richer.
But who will pay for the upkeep? Repairs? she asked.
Ill cover the main costs, Evelyn answered. Youll have a wellmaintained home to visit. The only condition is: no one ever forces a sale.
What if I need money urgently? Geraldine pressed.
Ill buy out your share, gradually if needed. The cottage stays the cottage.
Megan let out a sudden laugh. Granddad would have liked that. He always said Evelyn was the smartest of us all.
Sergei Pavlovich observed the scene, then said, I can draft the appropriate agreement if you decide to proceed this way. It will be legally sound and reflect Michaels wishes.
By evening, after papers were signed and the initial tension eased, they gathered on the verandah with tea, unexpectedly sharing stories of the past. Victor recounted how he and Michael built the porch, Geraldine recalled her mothers pies, Megan giggled at tales of Michaels childhood mischief.
Evelyn watched them, realizing she had recovered far more than a house or possessionsshe had reclaimed a family. If compromise was required, so be it.
When the relatives left, she stepped into the garden. The apple tree was in full bloom, its white petals drifting to the ground. Birds sang overhead. The cottage breathed.
Thank you, Granddad, she thought, looking up at the sky. I understand now. True inheritance isnt in walls or things. It lives in the people who remember and love each other.
She slipped a folded sheet from her pocketthe copy of the second will. Perhaps someday shed show it to her own children, tell them this story. Not today. Today, the priority was clear: preserve what truly matteredthe home, the memories, the peace between those she loved.
