She cant stay hereshes nothing to us, I overheard my late husbands daughter, Eleanor, loudly explaining to her brother why I should be kicked out of the house where Id lived for the past 15 years.
Hold on, Eleanor. Its not that simple. Wheres Aunt Margaret supposed to go? replied Edward, my husbands son, who Id always thought kinder and more decent than his sister. After 15 years of living with his father, Id learned a thing or two about them both.
My husband, Richard, had passed recently. His children from his first marriage arrived soon after, eager to divide his estate. Truth be told, it wasnt insignificanta countryside home, a garden, a garage, and a car.
I hadnt expected much, but I certainly didnt think theyd be so quick to throw me out.
Richard and I met later in life, both of us with failed marriages behind us and grown children. I had two daughters, and he had a son and a daughter.
Id just turned 50 and had married off my eldest daughter, whod moved her husband into our small flathardly enough space with my younger daughter still unmarried. I wasnt sure how wed manage.
Then, almost immediately, I met Richard. He was five years older and had been living alone for years. His children were grownboth marriedand comfortably settled, thanks to his successful career in management.
He didnt waste time. Within weeks, he asked me to move in with him. I thought it overhe was a good man, treated me welland decided, why not?
So I left for his countryside home. We tended the garden, kept chickens and rabbits, even a cow and a pig for a while. Both our children visited often, and we always welcomed them, sending them back with bags full of homegrown produce.
Richard and I never officially married. Wed talked about it, but in the end, we decided a stamp in a passport didnt matter much at our age.
Those 15 years were wonderful, and I dont regret a thing.
During that time, my younger daughter also married. She and her sister nearly came to blows over who should inherit the flat. In the end, my eldest, already settled there, refused to share, so she and her husband bought out her sister. That was thator so it seemed.
Then, a year ago, my youngest divorced, returning home with her child. My eldest wasnt pleased, and the arguments began all over again.
Id hoped shed reconcile with her husband, but so far, nothing.
Now Richard was gone, and Id have to return. But I knew full well there wasnt space for me.
Aunt Margaret, if youd like, you can stay until we find a buyer, Edward offered the next morning.
I was gratefuluntil Eleanor stepped in, clarifying the terms: I could remain if I kept up the house and garden alone.
So now Id be unpaid labour in exchange for not paying rent?
I didnt like the idea. The countryside required hard work, and at 65, I wasnt as strong as I used to be.
Now Im stuck. Do I stay here, working for children wholl cast me out the moment they sell? Or return to my own daughters, to a flat thats legally still minebut where Id only be in the way?
What should I do? Sometimes its clearer from the outside looking in.
