**Diary Entry 20th April**
*»We dont need Gran living with us,» the grandkids decided at the family meeting.*
«Are you mad? Thirty grand for that old banger? Its barely holding together!» Thomas slammed the bonnet of the battered Volvo and glared at the seller.
«Thats not a banger, its a classic,» the man replied smoothly, running a hand over the worn steering wheel. «They dont make em like this anymore. 78 model, factory-built. Full service history, engine purrs like a kitten.»
«A kitten with bronchitis, more like,» Thomas muttered, turning to his wife. «Emma, lets go. Im not wasting our money on this scrap.»
Emma sighed, offering the seller an apologetic smile. «Hes right, Im afraid. We need something reliablefor the cottage runs, hauling bits and bobs. This ones seen better days.»
«Take it, you wont regret it,» the seller pressed. «Ill knock it down to twenty-eight grand. Final offer.»
«No thanks,» Emma said firmly, linking arms with Thomas. «Well keep looking.»
They walked in silence through the garage lot. Thomas stewed, while Emma worried. Summer was coming, and without a car, their trips to the cottage would mean two bus changes or begging lifts from neighboursever since their old Ford got written off by some drunk driver (thank God theyd walked away unharmed).
«Maybe we *should* take out a loan for a new one?» Emma ventured as they left.
«On our pensions?» Thomas scoffed. «No. Well find a decent second-hand motor. Just gotta be patient.»
«But the gardens not even turned yet,» Emma fretted, adjusting her scarf against the spring chill. «The kids promised to help, but you know how it is. James is swamped at work, and Sophies got the twins…»
«Exactlythe kids,» Thomas brightened. «What about asking your mum? Gran Margaret?»
«*Mum?* Shes seventy-eight!»
«Age is just a number. Shes fitter than I amyoga at dawn, then off to the shops, then coffee with the girls. And shes got savings, hasnt she? That nest egg shes always on about?»
«Thomas!» Emma gaped. «Thats her rainy-day fund. Shes been scrimping her whole life!»
«And wed be spending it on the *family*,» he insisted. «A car for the grandkidscountry air, fresh strawberries. Educational, really.»
Emma shook her head but dropped it. The thought of asking her mother for money sat like a stone in her stomach. They barely saw her as it wasshe lived alone in her little terraced house on the outskirts of town, and the journey was a faff. Turning up now, hands out… It felt wrong.
At Sunday lunch, the kids were all there: James and his wife Charlotte with fourteen-year-old Liam, and Sophie with her husband Mark and their twelve-year-old twins, Lily and Oliver.
«Any luck with the car hunt?» James asked, setting the table.
«None,» Emma sighed. «Everythings either overpriced or falling apart.»
«Dads idea is to ask Gran Margaret for the money,» Thomas announced, earning a glare from Emma.
Sophie paused, knife hovering over the bread. «Would she *agree*?»
«I havent asked,» Emma admitted. «And Im not sure we should.»
Thomas bulldozed on. «Who else is she leaving it to? Its for the grandkids futures either waywhether its uni fees or a car to take them rambling. Natures educational!»
The table laughed, but after pudding, when the grandkids had vanished into their screens, Thomas circled back. «Emma, Im serious. Its *family* money. Wed just be… redistributing it.»
Emma fiddled with a napkin. «Mums always been independent. She wont like us telling her how to spend her savings.»
«Not *telling**discussing*,» Thomas corrected. «Shell understand its for a good cause.»
Later, as they lounged in the sitting room, Thomas dropped his bombshell: «What if we had Gran Margaret move in with us?»
Silence.
«*Move in?*» Emma blinked. «Weve barely got room as it is!»
«Wed convert the box room,» Thomas said breezily. «Or she could have the sofa bed. Shed hate being alone in that house at her age.»
«And her place?» James asked carefully.
«Wed *rent* it,» Thomas beamed. «Two-bed terrace, even on the outskirts? Easy twelve hundred a month. Thatd cover the car and then some.»
Emmas fork clattered. «Shes not a *paycheck*, Thomas. That house is her *home*.»
«Come off it,» he waved. «At her age, whats she clinging to? She needs *company*.»
Emma opened her mouth, but Liam piped up from his phone: «Does Gran know about this plan?»
«Not yet,» Thomas admitted. «Were working up to it.»
«What if she says no?» Lily asked.
«Well persuade her,» Thomas said confidently.
«For *her* sake or yours?» Olivers quiet voice cut through. The room froze.
«Oliver!» Sophie hissed.
«Im just asking,» he shrugged. «We never visit her. Only at Christmas and birthdays.»
Thomas cleared his throat. «If she lived here, wed see her daily.»
The grandkids exchanged looks. Gran Margaret was… *particular*. A no-nonsense woman who thought smartphones rotted brains and that «proper» grandkids read Dickens, not TikTok.
«We should ask *her* first,» Sophie said, eyeing the twins. «She might not *want* to leave her friends.»
«Of course,» Emma agreed. «Ill pop round tomorrow.»
«Ill come,» Thomas said quickly. «Two of usll convince her faster.»
—
The next day, Gran Margaret welcomed them with scones and a pot of strong tea.
«You managing all right, Mum?» Emma asked, helping tidy up.
«Right as rain,» Gran said briskly. «Yoga, shopping, telly with the girls. Lifes ticking along.»
Thomas pounced. «Thats just ityour *life*, Margaret. Wouldnt you prefer being with family? Wed make you *comfortable*.»
Grans eyes narrowed. «Comfortable where? Your broom cupboard?»
«Wed *adapt*,» Thomas said smoothly. «And your place could earn us a tidy sum»
«Ah.» Gran set down her teacup. «So its about the *money*.»
Emma flushed. «Its not *just* that»
«You havent visited for *months*,» Gran said dryly. «Now suddenly Im wanted?»
Thomas waffled, but that evening, the grandkids cornered them.
«We had a meeting,» Liam announced. «About Gran.»
Emma braced herself.
«We dont need her living here,» Oliver said bluntly. «Not like this.»
Thomas spluttered. «*Why not?*»
«Because its *her* house,» Lily said. «Her *life*. You cant yank her out just to rent it.»
«And you didnt even *ask* us,» Liam added. «We live here too. Dyou think we want Gran policing our phones every day?»
Emma stared. When had they gotten so *wise*?
«But the *car*» Thomas began.
Liam cut in. «Grans savings are for *her*. Not a new Vauxhall.»
That night, Emma lay awake. The kids were *right*. Theyd been selfishseeing her mother as a solution, not a person.
Next morning, she called Gran.
«Weve changed our minds. But well visit more. If thats all right?»
Gran chuckled. «Course it is. I wasnt moving anyway. But grandkids dropping by? Thats lovely.»
«Andabout the car…» Emma hesitated.
«Listen,» Gran said softly. «I *could* help. Not a loana gift. Family should look after each other.»
Emmas throat tightened. «No, Mum. Keep your nest egg. Well sort the car.»
«At my age, whats a rainy day?» Gran laughed. «Just bring the kids round. Thats all I need.»
—
*Lesson learned:* Family isnt a ledger. You cant tally love in square footage or quid. Gran Margaret didnt need rescuingshe needed *respect*. And funny enough, it took the kids to teach us that.
As for the car? Well manage. Maybe a shared one with the neighbours. Because in the end, its not the wheels that matterits whos beside you in the passenger seat.
