Oh, youve lived your life, now its our turn
«Listen, Mum, most of my mates parents have helped them with a place to live,» said the grown-up son. «Im getting married sooncant you sort us out with a flat? Do you really want us drifting from place to place? You dont even have to buy onejust let us move into that one-bedder you rent out. And maybe put it in my name, yeah? Just to keep things fair!»
Charlotte sat at the kitchen table, shuffling through bills. Her husband, James, had left for work ages ago, but she couldnt bring herself to tidy up. Her thoughts buzzed around like disturbed wasps. Lately, peace at home had vanishedtheir youngest, Oliver, had been fraying everyones nerves.
Charlotte had dreamed of finally living for herself: decorating the spare room just how she liked, buying sleek new furniture for the lounge. Once Oliver married and moved out with his wife, the whole place would be theirs. But notheir eldest, Emily, had just divorced her good-for-nothing husband, throwing everything into chaos. The renovations were scrappedEmily and the grandkids, little Archie and Sophie, got the biggest room instead.
Now Olivers wedding to Veronica was a month away. Hed moved her in months ago, and suddenly, seven people were crammed into a three-bed, practically tripping over each other.
Veronica walked into the kitchen. Charlotte tensed.
«Morning, Charlotte,» she said, smoothing her perfect ponytail. «You having breakfast, or shall I sit here alone? Dont want to be in your way.»
Veronica always called her by her first namenever «Mrs. Thompson.» Rude, entitledCharlotte wouldnt have chosen her for a daughter-in-law. But Oliver was wrapped around her finger, so they had to put up with it.
«Hello, Veronica. Ive eaten,» Charlotte said curtly. «Give me five minutes to clear up, then you can have the kitchen.»
Veronica took a glass and filled it with water.
«Charlotte, I wanted to ask you something. Oliver and I were talking about where well live after the wedding What do you think?»
Charlotte set the bills aside. Here it wasthe tug-of-war theyd been playing for months.
«Weve already discussed this, Veronica. You can have the spare room.»
Veronica put the glass down, her face twisting into what Charlotte called her «patronising sneer.»
«Lets be honest, Charlotte. Youve done the place up nicely. Its cosy, bright. But its *your* home. You and James have lived here thirty years. And now, with Emily and two kids its five people, not three. We dont want to live under a microscope.»
«And how *do* you plan to live after the wedding?» Charlotte snapped, irritation rising. «Youve no place of your own. Rentings all you can afford.»
«Thats exactly what were saying,» Veronica cut in, sitting across from her. «We thought about your other flatthe one-bed you rent out. We could live there. Pay you, of course Or you could just *give* it to us.»
Charlotte smirked.
«Ive two children, in case youve forgotten. Should I hand you a flat and leave Emily with nothing?»
«Emily can stay here,» Veronica shrugged. «Three bedroomsyou and James take one, Emily and the kids another. Plenty of space.»
«Emily cant live here forever,» Charlotte clenched her fists. «Shes divorcedshe needs her own life. And Ill say it again: Im *not* giving you that flat. Youre young, you worksort yourselves out.»
«But thatll take *years*!» Veronica threw her hands up. «Oliver just got promoted, but buying a flatll take five, maybe seven years! We want to live *now*!»
«Then why such a flashy wedding?» Charlottes tone brooked no argument. «Why limos, doves, a hundred-person reception if you cant even afford a roof? Have a registry office do and put the money toward a depositwouldnt that make sense?»
«*You* might think so,» Veronica said coolly. «But its *our* day. I want the dress, the partyI want my friends to see were not skint. Dont you get it?»
«Oh, I get it,» Charlotte nodded. «You want to show off. But no home means divorce, mark my words. Smart people get the flat *first*, then marry.»
Veronica glared and stormed out. She had no comeback.
***
That evening, Oliver cornered herVeronica had clearly put him up to it. This time, he brought up their recent anniversary party.
«Mum, Dad and I celebrated thirty years at a restaurant because we *could*. We scrimped for *ten years*, paid off the car loanthe car *you* got, by the way. Yeah, we splashed outwe *earned* it!»
«You couldve had a BBQ at the cottage! Saved a fortune. Dyou know how much I could use that cash now? How much did you blow? Two hundred? Three hundred grand?»
Charlotte turned on him.
«*Youre* saying this? You couldnt even save for a decent suitwe bought your wedding one! Were covering *seventy percent* of this wedding, took out a *loan* for your nonsense, and now youre *lecturing* me?»
«Dont shout at me,» Oliver scowled. «Im not having a go. Im just sayingwhere dyou expect me to bring my wife? Some grotty rented dump? Mum, Im *asking* you!»
«And Im asking why *her* parents cant help! You want me to hand over the only safety net Ive got? That flats for *our* retirement. It stays rented.»
«Yeah? Well, youve had your turnnow give *us* a shot!»
«Youve got a sister, Oliver. Emilys got kidsshe needs help more than you!»
Footsteps cut inVeronica marched in.
«Emily can chase her ex,» she said flatly. «Or wait for *this* flat. Just give us the one-bedwere not asking for *this* place. Right, Olly?»
The row spiralled. Oliver and Veronica werent even pretending to be polite anymorethey werent asking, they were *demanding* a flat theyd no right to.
***
A week before the wedding, the house was oddly calmOliver and Veronica were at a mates cottage, Emily and the kids were visiting cousins. Charlotte and James were watching telly when the doorbell rang. They frownedno guests were expected.
James answered. The lock clicked, and in marched Veronicas mum, Zoe, screeching before shed even stepped in.
«Jim, love! Charlotte home? Let me in!»
Charlotte froze. Shed met Zoe three timesenough to know the apple didnt fall far. Veronica was her mothers daughter.
Charlotte hurried to the hallZoe was already toeing off her shoes.
«To what do we owe this *pleasure*?» Charlotte said coldly.
Zoe grinned.
«Alright, Char? Came for a chat. Kids big days coming, and my Ronnies in bits*thanks* to you!»
Charlotte arched a brow.
«Oh? Whatve I done now?»
Zoe scoffed.
«Dont play daft! Why wont you let them have that empty flat? Its just sitting there! Too stingy to help your *own son*?»
James exhaled sharply. Charlotte squeezed his hand*steady*.
«Zoe, why dont *you* buy them a place? Whys it *my* job?»
Zoe looked genuinely baffled.
«Whered I get that sort of money? Were just getting by! If *I* had a spare place, Id hand it over in a heartbeat. Come on, Charstop being difficult. Just give it to them, eh?»
James snapped. He nudged Zoe toward the door and barked:
«Enough! *Out.* Tell your daughter the flats *not happening.* End of.»
Cursing, Zoe left. James called Oliver and told him to pack his things the second he got back.
