Why does Mum need a twobedroom flat? Shes already sixtyfive. Shell hardly entertain guests, and with her sisters she can have a cup of tea in the kitchen just fine, I muttered.
Linda Oliver knew exactly why her son and daughterinlaw had turned up at her door. The point had already flashed in Michaels mind a week earlier, when the whole family gathered to celebrate the birthday of Sophie, Lindas youngest granddaughter.
Michael and Olivia had barely set foot inside when the doorbell rang. A neighbour peeked in.
Ah, Blythe, Im a bit early. Youve got company, the elderly lady said, blushing.
Just family, Nina, Linda replied. Whats the matter?
My sewing machine has jammed again the bobbin is stuck and I cant get it out. Ill drop by later, sorry, she answered.
No worries, Ill have a look in a jiffy, Linda said.
She turned back to the kitchen and addressed Michael and Olivia:
Ill be with the neighbour for five minutes. In the meantime, make yourself at home the kettles already on. Do us a favour, love.
Linda sorted the machines problem and hurried back home. But as she reached the hallway, she stopped dead in her tracks, stunned by what she heard.
Olivia, Ive crunched the numbers, Michael said, that flat could fetch at least three million pounds, while a similar twobedroom unit in the block Mums moving into would go for about a million.
So you want Mum to hand us the difference? A million each? Olivia asked.
Exactly. And not just a million a million twohundred thousand, Michael replied.
Where will she get that from? Olivia pressed.
I told you Id done the maths! Why does Mum need a twobedroom flat? Shes sixtyfive. Shell hardly have visitors, and with her sisters she can have a cuppa in the kitchen, he retorted.
Honestly, a onebedroom flat would be more than enough for her. A decent, refurbished one could be had for six hundred thousand, Michael continued.
I was looking at a place nearer the centre, in a relatively new block, so shops and the clinic are close by, he added.
Maybe Mum wont agree? Olivia ventured.
Why not? Im not against her moving at all. If shes being nudged into a retirement home, she might as well sort something decent for us too, Michael said.
Linda had indeed been toying with the idea of moving back to her hometown. When she and her husband first came out to the north of England, she was fortyfive. At that age you dont make many friends; she had a few acquaintances, but you cant compare that to friendships forged in childhood.
She hadnt wanted to relocate then quitting her job, pulling the kids out of school and heading to an unfamiliar town seemed impossible. Then her husband got a good post at a factory, and she went along.
Twenty years rolled by: work, children, occasional trips back home. Two years ago her husband died unexpectedly.
Her son and daughterinlaw now had families of their own, and Linda felt as if she were floating in a vacuum. Retirement left her alone, and the calls from her sisters grew more frequent.
She didnt wait for Olivias answer. She slammed the kitchen door as if shed just arrived.
Michael and Olivia were at the table. Their mother had just poured tea into mugs and sliced a Victoria sponge shed baked for them.
Mum, are you sure you want to move? Olivia asked.
Yes. With your father gone, nothing ties me here. After twenty years this place never felt like home, Linda replied.
What about us? The grandchildren? Olivia gasped.
Olivia, you have your own lives, your own worries. I dont want to be a burden. Your kids are grown; you dont need a nanny any more. Whats left for me? Sitting on a park bench with other retirees, walking with a stick?
Its not my cup of tea. Id rather have books and the telly. Besides, my sisters live nearby, I have plenty of acquaintances, and not far from the town theres my parents old house where the whole family gathers each summer, Olivia replied.
Honestly, I keep dreaming Im back in my hometown, strolling down the high street, and everyone I meet feels familiar, Linda said.
Alright, Mum, what about the flat? Michael steered the conversation toward the practical.
Ill sell it and buy a new one, she said.
Need a hand with the sale? Michael offered.
Ill go through an agency. The advert is already up, so Ill start packing, Linda answered.
Mum, Im not just being helpful for the sake of it. There are crooks everywhere. You could end up with no money and no flat, Michael warned.
Dont worry. Lisa Collins will help me shes the wife of Uncle John, my husbands deputy. Remember her? Linda reminded him.
Lisa runs her own agency. Natashas got a reliable realtor too they just helped Paul buy a flat, she added.
How much are you aiming for? Michael asked.
Lisa says three million pounds is a fair price. I might list it a touch higher at first. Ive checked the property sites myself thats the market, Linda replied.
Those flats are cheaper, Olivia noted.
Yes, a similar one goes for about two million, Michael said.
Mum, Olivia and I have a favour to ask: after you sell, could you give each of us a million? Michael pleaded.
A million each? Id barely have enough left for a new place, Linda said.
How could you not? We could buy something smaller, like a onebedroom, Michael suggested.
A onebedroom would be uncomfortable for me. I need two rooms: a bedroom and a sitting room, Linda insisted.
Some families of three live in a singlebedroom flat, Michael countered.
Yes, those who cant afford bigger. I can, and I dont see why I should give it up. Id like to live in comfort, she replied.
Mum, it would be fair to Olivia and me. Its a family flat, after all, Michael said.
Michael, I never expected wed be discussing this, but remember the will gave you everything youre entitled to, Linda reminded him.
He didnt shortchange you. All I got was the flat. And now you want me to split it with you? Michael snapped.
Michael didnt phrase it well, Olivia interjected, trying to smooth things over. He meant you could help us if you have any spare cash.
He has a mortgage, and Illya and I want to buy a cottage. Not a million, but maybe five hundred thousand would help us, Michael said.
Even if you buy a twomillion flat as planned, youll still have a million left. Thats what were counting on, Olivia added.
That remaining million would cover the move, the renovations, and furnishing the new place Ill still need to buy furniture and appliances, Linda explained.
That leftover is my safety cushion, just in case I fall ill. Im not getting any younger, she said.
So you wont be giving us anything? Michael asked.
Michael, Im surprised you brought this up. Youre thirtyseven, Olivia thirtyfour, both universityeducated, both working, Linda observed.
You still have a few years left on the mortgage. But youre not in trouble. If I hadnt decided to move and sell, would you have managed? Did you have a plan to rehouse me more simply? Michael probed.
No, Linda admitted.
Mum, sorry we pressed the issue, Olivia said softly. We just thought
You thought Mum, whos always helped you, would never say no, Linda replied.
I wouldnt have refused if you truly needed it. But I think youll manage: Michael will finish the mortgage, you and Illya will save for the cottage, and everything will be alright.
Linda did exactly what shed planned: she sold the flat, moved back to her hometown, and bought a new place close to where she and her husband had lived before. Relatives helped her settle in and refurbish the property. Now, each morning she wakes up feeling truly at home.
