Jane signed the last document with a sigh of relief, leaning back in her chair at the solicitors office. The September sun streamed through the windows, glinting off the fresh ink on the deed. The house for her mother was finally hers, and the move could begin.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Evelyn,” the solicitor smiled, handing her the paperwork. “The house officially belongs to your mother now.”
“Thank you,” Jane replied, carefully tucking the documents into a folder. “Mum will be over the moon. Shes always dreamed of having her own place with a garden.”
The house was perfecta two-storey cottage with a spacious yard in a quiet neighbourhood near the town centre. Margaret Haywood, Janes mother, had spent years cramped in a tiny flat, complaining about noisy neighbours. Now shed have a peaceful place to spend her golden years.
The next day, Jane and her husband, William, began the move. Margaret bustled about, clapping her hands in delight as she inspected each room.
“Jane, my dear, youve outdone yourself!” she kept saying, eyes bright. “Such a lovely home, and the garden! Ill plant roses, perhaps an apple tree”
William lugged furniture in silence, occasionally shooting Jane meaningful looks. Hed never approved of the expense, insisting a modest bungalow wouldve sufficed. But the money was mostly Janes, so hed kept quiet.
“Mum, here are all the keys,” Jane said, pressing a set into her mothers hands. “Front door, back door, and the garden gate. Do keep track of which is which.”
“Of course, of course,” Margaret nodded, clutching them like treasure. “Youre so good to me”
By evening, most of the furniture was in place. Margaret wandered the rooms, breathless with joy. Jane watched her, pleased with a job well done.
“Now, you enjoy it,” Jane hugged her. “Ill pop by tomorrow to help with the little things.”
“Thank you, my love,” Margaret sniffled. “I dont know how Ill ever repay you.”
On the way home, Jane stopped at her mother-in-laws to fetch Williamhed left the car there that morning. Edith Carter greeted her on the doorstep with a sour expression.
“So, youve built your mother a palace, have you?” she sneered, bypassing pleasantries.
“I bought her a house, yes,” Jane replied evenly. “She deserves a comfortable retirement.”
“Deserves it, does she? And what about us?” Edith huffed. “Stuck in this crumbling old place, roof leaking, walls damp. But youll buy palaces for outsiders.”
Jane frowned, struggling to make sense of the words. Margaret was her own mother, hardly an “outsider.” Arguing seemed pointlessEdith had grown increasingly bitter of late.
“At least you couldve done something for family,” Edith muttered as they left.
Jane brushed it off. Edith had always envied others good fortunenothing new. What mattered was that her mother was happy.
The week passed in a blur. Jane called Margaret daily, checking if she needed anything. Margaret chattered about arranging the house, meeting neighbours, planning the garden.
“Mum, Ill stop by tomorrow after work,” Jane said one evening. “Ill bring groceriesanything else you need?”
“Oh, yes, darling, do come,” Margaret replied. “Ill show you how Ive set up the rooms.”
The next day, Jane left work early, stocked up on groceries, and drove to her mothers. Approaching the house, she noticed something oddlaundry hung on the line, but none of it was Margarets. Her mother washed meticulously, yet here were mens shirts, childrens trousers, and garish scarves Margaret would never wear.
Jane parked and looked around. Unfamiliar bags and boxes littered the yard, and on the porch sat a pile of folded clothesMargarets dresses, cardigans, and slippers.
Her pulse quickened. She rushed to the front door, jiggling the keys shed given her mother. The lock wouldnt turn. She tried again, peering at the mechanismit was new, completely different.
“What on earth?” she muttered, checking the other doors. New locks everywhere. None of her keys worked.
A neighbour shuffled over, eyeing her curiously.
“Looking for the owner?” the woman asked. “They moved her out three days ago.”
“Moved her out?” Jane gaped. “This is my mothers houseI bought it for her!”
“Oh, I know,” the neighbour nodded. “Sweet lady, your mum. But your mother-in-laws taken overchanged the locks, rearranged everything. Says the house belongs to her now.”
Janes face burned with fury. Her mother had been thrown out of her own home, and Edith had simply seized it. A kind gesture turned into brazen theft.
“Wheres my mother now?” Jane demanded, voice shaking.
“Left with her bags, poor dear. Crying, didnt know where to go. Your mother-in-law said the house was bought for the whole family.”
Jane stormed to the front door just as Edith swung it open, looking every bit the smug homeownerkeys jingling at her waist, hair perfectly coiffed.
“Oh, youre here,” Edith said airily. “Weve nearly finished settling in.”
“Where is my mother?” Jane cut in, voice icy.
“On the porch for now,” Edith adjusted her keys. “House is big, but we must decide who gets what. Ive taken chargemore experience, you see.”
“Decide what?” Jane stepped closer. “This is my mothers house, not a boarding lodge!”
Just then, Margaret appeared around the corner, wrapped in a dressing gown, her face drawn with exhaustion.
“Jane, darling,” she choked out. “Thank goodness youre here. I didnt know what to do”
“Mum, whats happened?” Jane pulled her close. “Why are you out here?”
“Edith said shes in charge now,” Margaret whispered. “Changed the locks, tossed my things out. Claims the house is for the whole family.”
Jane turned to Edith, jaw set.
“This is my mothers house,” she said coldly. “Hand over the keys. Now.”
“Dont shout at me!” Edith flapped her hands. “I live here now! You said yourself it was for family!”
“When did I say that?”
“Last week at dinner! You said you wanted the family to have a proper home!”
“I meant for my mother,” Jane said slowly. “Not you.”
Edith scoffed. “Whats the difference? Family is family. Besides, your mother doesnt need all this space at her age. Wasteful.”
Margaret stifled a sob. Janes temper snapped.
“Mum, wait in the car,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Ill sort this now.”
“Jane, please, no fighting,” Margaret pleaded. “Maybe we can”
“No, Mum. Theres nothing to discuss.”
Jane dialed the police, explaining calmly: “I need assistance. Someones unlawfully taken over my mothers home, changed the locks, and refuses to leave. Yes, Ill give the address.”
“What are you doing?” Edith shrieked. “Were family!”
“Family doesnt steal homes,” Jane said, hanging up. “The officers will handle it legally.”
Edith ranted about ingratitude, but Jane tuned her out. She guided Margaret to the car.
“Mum, itll be alright,” she said firmly. “Youll be back in your home within the hour, and no one will ever take it from you again.”
The police arrived swiftly. After reviewing the deeds, they ordered Edith to leave immediately and return the keys.
“But Im no thief!” she wailed, gathering her things under their watch. “Were familywe help each other!”
“Help doesnt mean stealing a house,” the officer said. “Youve got ten minutes.”
Jane ensured Edith returned every key, then called a locksmith to replace them all. Margaret watched silently, wiping tears.
When the police and locksmith left, and Edith had slunk off in a taxi, Jane hugged her mother tightly.
“Im so sorry, Mum,” she whispered. “I never imagined this could happen.”
“Dont apologise, love,” Margaret sniffled. “How could you know people could be so cruel?”
“Now I do,” Jane said grimly. “And no one will ever take your home again. I promise.”
They spent the evening putting the house to rights. Edith had redecoratedrearranged furniture, hung her own paintings, even replaced the bedding.
“The audacity,” Jane muttered, restoring Margarets photos to the dresser. “Acted like she owned the place.”
“She said their roof was leaking, the walls damp,” Margaret murmured, hanging her dresses. “Thought shed move in here.”
“At my expense?” Jane scoffed. “No. Never.”
By nightfall, the house was theirs again. Over tea
