The Summerhouse of Disputes Daughter Reclaims Whats Hers
Lizzie, youve got to understand this is a desperate situation, said Christopher, rubbing his temples and sighing heavily. Sophies been on at me for two months solid.”
Shes found this marvellous education programme for Oliver out in Malta. You know, for our son. Says he needs a head start, needs to brush up on his English. But where am I supposed to get the money?
You know things havent exactly been rosy on the job front for me lately.
Lizzie slowly raised her eyes to her father.
So you think selling Grandmas old summerhouse is genuinely the best plan? she asked quietly.
What else can I do? Christopher perked up, leaning forward. The place just sits there, doing nothing. Sophie never goes she cant stand the wasps and claims it’s boring.”
She doesnt even realise the place hasn’t been in my name for ages. Still thinks well put it on the market, get the money and everything will be sorted.
Lizzie, youre a clever girl. Heres what I suggest: you sell it officially now, get back every penny you lent me ten years ago absolutely all of it!
And the rest the bit it’s risen by since then you give to me. Family helping family.
You wont lose out, honest. You get your money back, and your old dad gets a bit of a lifeline.
Hed turned up, as ever, unannounced. Truth was, father and daughter rarely spoke these days. He’d started a new family years ago, and Lizzie always felt like she didn’t really fit into their little circle.
She had her suspicions about this visit. Likely wanted money again, but his proposal sounded more than a bit odd.
Dad, Lizzie said after hearing him out, lets just cast our minds back ten years. When you came to me in tears, saying you needed money for surgery and rehab.
Remember that?
Christopher grimaced.
Oh, whats the point digging that up now? I pulled through, didnt I?
Really? Lizzie gave a small, rueful laugh. Back then, I had money on my account that Id scraped together bean by bean for my first flats deposit.
I worked weekends, skipped holidays, scrimped. Then you came. No work, no savings but a new wife, Sophie, and a son, Oliver.
You took everything I had!”
I was desperate, Lizzie! What was I supposed to do, curl up and die on a park bench?
I offered to help, Lizzie continued, refusing to be interrupted. But I told you honestly: I was scared. Scared of ending up with nothing if anything happened to you.
Youve got a legal heir now: Sophie. Shed lock me out in a second.
We even spent a week negotiating it, didnt we? You wouldnt write an IOU, got all offended,
How can you not trust your own father!
But I just wanted some security.
Well you got your security, didnt you! Christopher blurted. We did the paperwork. Summerhouse in your name. Only sold it to you for peanuts, for what I needed to pay the clinic.
But we agreed you’d let me use it, and one day I’d buy it back.
Its been ten years, Lizzie cut in. Ten, Dad. Have you ever breathed a word about buying it back? Did you ever return a penny? No.
You spent summers there, growing your tomatoes, burning the wood I paid for.
Council tax? Me. Roof repairs three years back? Me.
Youve lived there as if nothing changed, while I slogged to pay off my mortgage.
Christopher pulled out a hanky, mopping sweat from his brow.
I couldnt work, Lizzie you know how long it took to recover after chemo, then my age, nobody wants someone like me now.
Sophie too shes sensitive, her office jobs soul-destroying.
We just about manage, buying and selling bits online.
Sensitive! Lizzie suddenly stood and began striding across the kitchen. So I must be made of stone, must I?
Fine for me to take two jobs, pay off a mortgage and fork out for Dads spa retreat at the summerhouse?
And now Sophies decided its time to flog it, just so their darling Oliver can get sent to Malta?
My summerhouse, Dad! Mine!
Lizzie, technically, it is yours. But come on, you know this was meant to be temporary.
Im your dad! I gave you life. Are you really going to bicker over a set of walls and a garden shed, when your brother needs something to get started?
Brother? Lizzie stopped short. That boy Ive met twice in my life?
Hes never remembered my birthday. As for Sophie did she ever ask how I am, how I handled the payments all these years?
She still thinks you own half of England, just fallen on hard times for now.
Youve lied to her for ten years, Dad.
Christopher turned away, ashamed.
I only wanted whats best Didnt want to upset her.
Would only nag about why I shifted things out of her reach.
Out of her reach?
Oh, dont get petty about my choice of words! he snapped. Listen, think about this that place is worth five times what it was. The markets gone crackers.
You take your ninety grand thats what you gave for my treatment, right? Thats fair! And Ill take the extra two hundred and ten.
I need to get Oliver sorted out, Sophies got a broken tooth, we need to swap the car the old one barely runs.
That two hundred grand makes no odds to you. You bought your flat in London, doing better than all of us.
Help your family, wont you?
Lizzie looked at him, not recognising the man who once read her fairy tales.
No, she said, simply.
What do you mean, no? Christophers mouth fell open.
Im not selling the summerhouse. And Im definitely not handing over a penny from the extra value.
The summerhouse is mine, both lawfully and morally.
You lived there for free for ten years. You got well, enjoyed summer after summer. Chalk it up as my maintenance for you.
Thats it.
Are you serious? Christophers face deepened to crimson. Youd take away your fathers last thing?
If it wasnt for me, the summerhouse wouldnt exist! My father built it!
Thats right, Grandad did. Hed turn in his grave if he saw you selling off our familys patch of England, all for some dodgy course in Malta for a boy whos nineteen and has never lifted a finger.
Lizzie, be reasonable! her father shouted, leaping to his feet. You owe me! I raised you! If you dont do this, Ill Ill tell everyone how mean you are.
Ill tell Sophie the lot. Shell come round here and youll have a proper scene on your hands!
Well go to court! Well overturn the deal! It was extortionate, thats what! You exploited a sick man and cheated him out of his property!”
Lizzie gave a painful smile.
Try it, Dad. Ive got all the receipts from the clinic. Every bank transfer in your name.
And the signed deed of sale, signed by you, stone cold sober before the notary, well into your recovery.
Sophie, by the way, will be deeply surprised to learn you sold the summerhouse before Oliver even started school.
You told her it was an inheritance, didnt you?
Lizzie her fathers tone suddenly changed to pleading. Please. Sophies going through a rough spell…
If she hears the truth, shell throw me out. Shes fifteen years my junior and only with me for a bit of security.
If the summerhouse is gone, if theres no money, she wont want me. Dyou want your father sleeping rough on the streets?
You should have thought of that before, Lizzies anger simmered. Before you spent ten years doing nothing. Let Sophie get into debt? Promising her castles in the air, from my pockets?
So, no help then? Christopher straightened up. My own daughter, after all Ive done for you
I think youd better go, Dad. Tell Sophie the truth. If you want to keep a shred of dignity, thats your last chance.
Choke on that summerhouse! he spat as he stormed out. Youre no daughter of mine! Dont ever call me again!
He left, and Lizzie let out a hollow laugh. As if she hadnt lost him years ago. Hed left when she was just seven.
***
The phone rang Saturday morning, an unknown number.
Hello?
Is that Lizzie? Instantly she recognised Sophies voice, cold as steel. Who do you think you are, girl?
Think we dont know how you tricked Chris? He told me everything!
You put papers under his nose when he was out of his head after the operation!
Good morning, Sophie, replied Lizzie calmly. If youd like to discuss this, lets keep things civil.
Civil? Were already taking legal action!
My solicitor says this deal wouldnt last two minutes in court. You ripped off your dad, grabbed the family home for peanuts.
Well see you on the streets!
Sophie, listen carefully.
Christopher has told you his story. But I have all the proof the money went directly on his medical bills.
And I have ten years worth of messages from him, thanking me for paying for the summerhouse and letting him stay.
Written, plain as day: Thank you, Lizzie, for not abandoning me, for keeping the summerhouse safe.
What do you think a judge would say?
There was stunned silence on the other end. Sophie hadnt expected this.
Youre just a cow, she hissed. One flats not enough? You want to rob your brother too? Oliver needs this for his future!
Oliver can get a job, Lizzie replied. Just like I did at his age.
And Sophie, its time you learned the truth. Remember the shares he told you about?
What shares? Sophies voice trembled.
The ones he made up. The money I sent over the years, out of kindness, he called them dividends from his investments.
Check his bank history if you dont believe me. Hes been stringing you along, using my help and pretending it was from his own wealth.
All those times I thought I was saving my fathers life I was running myself into debt for it. Only recently did I learn the truth.
Sophie hung up. That evening, Lizzie received a curt message from her father: Youve ruined everything.
***
She didnt reply. A few days later, neighbours from the village phoned her with an update.
Sophie, hysterical, had thrown all Christophers belongings out into the garden. The police came; the whole street had watched.
Turns out, in her eagerness to fund Olivers head start, Sophie had already borrowed a fortune at extortionate interest, banking on the summerhouse sale.
With no sale coming, Christopher was forced to move out. Sophie filed for divorce the moment she discovered just how far his lies reached.
Oliver, never one to miss a trick, offered his father no sympathy. He moved in with his girlfriend, saying the old man only had himself to blame.
As for where Christopher is now, Lizzie didnt know. Nor did she care to find out.
Life has a way of exposing the truth, no matter how hard one tries to paper over the cracks. And sometimes, protecting your own hard-earned peace is the only real duty you owe to yourself.
