Old Hawthorn Farm greeted me with a stale, silent air. I flung open the sash windows, letting the May sunshine and the scent of lilacs flood the rooms. Its been a month since Grandfather passed, and only now have I found the strength to travel back and sort through his belongings.
Michael Stevenson was more than a grandfather to me. When my parents died young, he became my whole family, raising me, giving me a foothold in life. In recent years we only saw each other occasionallyhis work in the county council, the bustle of everyday life, the endless shortage of time. Now, standing in the sittingroom where every object whispered his name, I chastised myself for every day we never spent together.
The telephone rang, cutting the quiet.
Emily, have you started yet? Aunt Gillians voice sounded unusually gentle. Victor and I will be there tomorrow to help with the furniture. Dont touch anything valuable until then, okay?
Of course, Aunt Gill, I replied, eyeing Grandfathers sideboard filled with seashell collections. Im only unpacking his things, the papers.
Good. You know, after the will was read there was a bit of awkwardness Dont be upset that he left you only his books and the piano. He just wanted everything divided fairly.
I pressed my lips together. At the funeral the solicitor read the will: the house and the bulk of the estate went to his childrenAunt Gill and Uncle Victor. I received only the books, an old upright piano and a set of engraved pocket watchesprecious to me but of little market value.
All right, Aunt Gill. I dont need anything else, I said.
Exactly! You have your own flat. Victor and I will need the cottage for the summer holidays. See you tomorrow!
I hung up and exhaled heavily. Grandfather always said the house would be mine. Who else will it stay with, if not you, dear? Youre the only one who truly understands these walls, he used to say. Perhaps at the last moment he altered his decision. Thats his right.
The whole day I sorted through the books. Each volume held a memory: the worn fairytale collection he used to read to me at night, the textbooks where he, a former teacher, helped me with maths. Some books hid dried flowers, old photographs, marginal notes in his neat hand.
By evening I reached his study. The small room with a massive mahogany desk and floortoceiling shelves had always felt special. As a child Grandfather forbade me to enter without knockingthe creative lab, hed joke. Here Michael wrote his memoirs, kept diaries, sorted archives.
I leafed through folders of manuscripts, old notebooks, yellowed envelopes. In the lower drawer I found a bundle of letters tied with twineletters from my grandmother, a woman I never met. Beside them lay a battered leather diary.
Opening it, I saw an entry dated last year: Call S.P. about the new will. Destroy the old one.
My heart skipped. A new will? At the hearing, Solicitor Simon Parker presented only one document.
I kept searching, methodically checking every drawer, every folder. Behind a stack of dated newspapers I discovered an envelope labelled Will. Copy. Original with Solicitor S.P. The date on the envelope was a month before Grandfathers death.
With trembling hands I pulled out the paper and began to read. In this will Michael left the entire house, the garden and all valuable possessions to me, Emily. His children, Gill and Victor, were to receive monetary compensation.
This decision is not about favouring one heir over another, the deed read, but about preserving the integrity of the family nest. Emily is the only one who values this house not as a commodity but as the centre of our family history. I trust she will keep it for future generations.
I sank into Grandfathers armchair, unable to believe what Id just read. Why hadnt the second will been shown? Did the solicitor know? What now?
I lay awake through the night on the old bed in my former room, turning over possibilities. Presenting the will would spark a huge scandal. Aunt Gill and Uncle Victor had already started planning what to do with the property. Theyd never been close to Grandfather, visiting only now and then, but did that give them fewer rights?
Morning arrived with the smell of coffee. A car pulled up and Aunt Gill entered first, filling the house with her loud voice and brisk movements.
Emily, Megan and I have arrived, she said, gesturing to her daughter, who muttered as she shuffled in the hallway. Well see what we can take right now. Victor will bring the movers later.
Hello, I managed a strained smile. I havent finished sorting
No worries, well help, Gill said, already scanning the furniture. Ill take this sideboard and the bedroom chest. You okay with that, Megan?
Megan shrugged. Whatever, Mum. Im only here for Grandfathers coin collection, you promised.
My dear, wheres the coin collection? He collected those all his life. Megan, you can have it as a keepsake.
A surge of anger rose in me. The numismatic collection was Grandfathers pride. Hed shown me each new coin, narrating its story. And now it would go to Megan, whod arrived at the funeral with a sour look, as if something had been ripped from her?
Aunt Gill, I began cautiously, did you speak with the solicitor after the will was read?
She froze, turning sharply. With Simon? No, why?
It just feels odd. I think there might be another will, a later one.
A heavy silence fell. Megan stopped examining the sideboard and looked at us.
What nonsense? Gill snapped, though her voice trembled. There was only one will, and it was read.
I think we should call Simon, I said firmly. I have a copy of another document.
Gills face went pale. Emily, why stir this up? Father made his choice; everything was fairly divided. You got the things he loved mostbooks, the pianohe knew you love music.
It isnt about the items, Aunt Gill. Its about Grandfathers final wishes. If he changed his mind, we must respect that.
Changed his mind? she laughed bitterly. He spent his whole life thinking of you! Your parents diedtragic, of course. But why did he always put you ahead of his own children? Were we strangers to him?
I was taken aback by her sudden outburst. I never asked for special treatment
Of course not! You were simply always there. We have our own lives, our own concerns. We cant be with him all the time.
Mum, calm down, Megan interjected. If theres another will, let the lawyers sort it out.
The front door opened and Uncle Victor entered, a broadshouldered man with a face uncannily similar to Grandfathers.
Whats the argument about? he asked, looking at the tense faces.
Emily found another will, Gill blurted. She says Grandfather left everything to her.
Victor walked slowly to the sofa and sat down. Is that true?
His voice held only fatigue, not surprise. I stared at him. Did you know about it?
He sighed. Father mentioned he wanted to change the will. He said the house should stay whole, not split. He believed only you truly loved it.
And you kept quiet? Gill shouted. Traitor!
Dont shout, Gill, Victor said wearily. I didnt know if hed actually drafted a new one or just intended to. Either way, the house is old, needs constant upkeep. We need it as an asset we can sell, not as a memory for Emily.
So youre on her side? Gill snapped, waving her hands. Marvelous! Well give everything to the girl and be left with nothing!
Mum, stop, Megan rolled her eyes. Victors right. Why do we need this house? You said you wanted to sell it and buy a flat in the city.
I listened to their backandforth, feeling detached. To them the house was just property, a piece of real estate. To me it was a world of scents, sounds, recollections.
I propose this, I said finally. We call Simon and confirm the situation. If Grandfathers last wish truly was to leave the house to me, Ill pay you a compensation for your sharesover time, of course.
What compensation? Gill scoffed. On your librarian salary?
I could take a loan, or sell my flat.
Enough, Mum, Megan said. Lets just call the solicitor.
Simon Parker arrived within the hour, briefcase in hand, and took a seat in the living room, eyes darting between us.
So youve uncovered a second will, he said after I handed him the copy. He examined it, checking dates and signatures.
Yes, this is a genuine copy. Michael did draft a new will shortly before he died.
Why wasnt it presented? Gill asked, outraged.
Simon removed his glasses, rubbing his nose. A week before his death he called me, saying he wanted to revoke the previous one. He planned a meeting but never made it.
So his final wish was the first version? Victor queried.
I cant say for certain, Simon answered cautiously. He gave no reasons over the phone, just said he didnt want family quarrels.
Tears welled in my eyes. Grandfather had thought of us to the very end, even at the cost of his own desires.
Legally, Simon continued, the last valid will that wasnt formally cancelled is the one that standsso the one leaving the house to you. But if you contest it based on his phone call, the case could drag on for years, and no one wins except the lawyers.
The room fell silent. I stared out the window at the old apple tree Grandfather had planted before I was born. Each spring it burst into white blossoms, filling the garden with a gentle perfume. He used to say, As long as the apple tree blooms, the house lives.
I wont push the second will, I said suddenly, turning to my relatives. Let everything stay as it is.
What? Megan asked. Youre giving up the house?
No, I shook my head. I propose a different solution. The house remains in joint ownership. Nobody sells it. Ill live here and keep it maintained. Youre welcome to visit any timesummer, holidays, weekendsjust like a true family home.
But why would you do that? Gill asked, perplexed. You could have it all to yourself legally.
Because Grandfather wanted us to be a family, I replied simply. He feared an inheritance would split us, and he was ready to change his final wish for that reason. I want to honour his intention.
Victor looked at me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. I agree. Thats the right thing.
Gill hesitated, her face a battle between greed and a vague sense that Emily was offering something more valuable.
But who will cover the upkeep? Repairs? she asked.
Ill take the main costs, I answered. Youll have a tidy, readytouse home when you visit. The only condition is that no one ever forces a sale.
What if I suddenly need money? Gill pressed.
Ill buy your share, I said calmly. Possibly in installments. The house will stay the house.
Megan laughed unexpectedly. Grandfather would have liked that. He always said Emily was the wisest of us.
Simon smiled. I can draft an agreement to formalise this, if you all decide to proceed. It will be legally clean and reflect Michaels wishes.
By evening, after the paperwork was settled and the tension eased, we sat on the veranda with tea, reminiscing. Victor spoke of building the veranda with Grandfather, Gill recalled her mothers pies, Megan giggled at stories of Grandfathers childhood escapades.
I watched them and realised I had gained far more than I had lost. Not just a house or possessionsbut a reunited family. If compromise was required, so be it.
When the relatives left, I stepped into the garden. The apple tree was in full bloom, petals drifting like snow onto the grass. Birds sang overhead. The house seemed to breathe.
Thank you, Grandfather, I whispered, 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.
From my pocket I pulled out the folded copy of the second will. Perhaps one day Ill show it to my children and tell them this story. Not now. Right now, what matters is preserving what truly has value: the family home, the shared memories, and the peace between us.
