All’s Fair in the Fight for the Family Fortune The entire family had gathered together, though the real reason—as usual—was financial, thinly disguised as a family dinner. Lydia, daughter of Granny Thelma and mother to Katie and Arthur, fiddled with her mother’s old handkerchiefs—the same ones Granny used to hide her savings. Granny was no longer able to manage her own affairs; she remembered nothing and recognised no one, but Lydia, by force of habit, continued tucking her pension into those same cloths. “Oh, look,” Lydia lamented, turning to the family, “they’ve gone missing again. Ten thousand, at least. I couldn’t have made a mistake—I counted it myself! Where have they gone? Mum, do you remember how much there was?” Granny Thelma turned—not to her daughter, but to the portrait of her late husband. “Oh, Pete… how lovely,” she murmured, gazing at granddaughter Jenny. “And you, dear, leave my sweets for the guests… Where’s Artie? At school?” Lydia rolled up the thousand-pound notes. Her mother certainly couldn’t remember how much there was. But Lydia was certain—someone was stealing them. An unthinkable idea, because only family ever came around, but somebody had to be nicking them! And from an old lady, too… Arthur arrived, just as Granny had been asking after him. “What’s this, a wake?” he joked, tossing his car keys aside. Lydia, his mother, choked out: “Arthur, it’s awful! The money! Granny’s money’s missing again. I’ve been putting her pension in this cabinet for months. Someone’s taking it!” Arthur looked around the room with suspicion—his mum trusted everyone, Arthur trusted no one. “Money disappearing, eh?” he squinted, “I bet I know right where it’s going!” He strode to the hall, grabbed Katie’s striped tote bag, and before Katie could blink, unzipped it and dumped the contents onto the old plastic tablecloth. Out tumbled lipstick, keys, mirror—and money. Wads of crumpled notes—five grand in five-hundreds. “Look!” Arthur exclaimed, holding up a note. “I dropped her bag just now, reached to pick it up—and out spilled these! And don’t these look familiar?” Auntie Gail, who’d been munching salad without blinking, immediately choked on her mouthful. If you looked closely at each note, you could see a faint blue ballpoint pen line. “Remember last month, when Mum was counting the money and Ivan scribbled on it by mistake?” Arthur went on. “These are those five-hundred notes from Granny’s pension!” All eyes turned on Katie. Frozen until then, she flinched. “Arthur, what are you doing?” “Me? Nothing! I told you—the bag fell as I passed, and there they were! Very familiar money, too!” Katie realised it was pointless to challenge him; she had to defend herself. “It wasn’t me!” she cried, knocking the table as she shot to her feet. Even Granny turned at the commotion. “Who’s making a ruckus?” asked Granny Thelma. “Where are my slippers?” Everyone’s eyes were wide as saucers. “Katie, darling,” Lydia stood, “how could you? Why? You have a job, I help you out… How could you steal from your own grandmother?” “Mum, it wasn’t me! I didn’t take anything!” “Who else?” Arthur pressed, “You’re the only one always around, caring for Granny, as you keep saying. No one else has access. Mum would never do it. That leaves you.” Katie backed away as if they might hit her. “I swear I never touched a thing!” She glanced at her mother, hoping for belief, but Lydia looked at her as though she were a monster. “You’re lying,” Lydia whispered. “How could you…” “I love Granny!” Katie cried, tears spilling over. “I only came to help her! I swear I didn’t take the money!” But all the evidence was stacked against her. The money had come from her bag. No other suspects. “That’s that,” Arthur declared, “Sad, Katie. Really sad. You could’ve just asked. But stealing from a helpless old lady… No one expected that from you.” That night, they kicked Katie out, and her life was turned upside-down. No one understood, no one wanted to listen. Even Lydia, regretful later, begged the family to be kinder, but… “Don’t let her back, Lydia,” hissed Auntie Gail on the phone. “She’s a disgrace! Granny may not remember, but what if she knew what Katie’s become…” Lydia obeyed. She barely spoke to her daughter. When Katie rang, Lydia gave only clipped answers: busy, later, not now. Katie tried to fight back. She called her relatives from different numbers, but as soon as they caught on, they hung up. Katie launched her own investigation, which quickly fizzled; nobody would talk or let her near Granny again. Eventually, she managed to get Lydia to meet. “Mum, please,” Katie begged, “I know it sounds like an excuse, but I swear—I didn’t do it! Why won’t you believe me?” It was hardest on Lydia; after all, Katie was her daughter. “Katie… it pains me too. But the money was with you. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. If I’d been the only one to find out, maybe we could forget it, but the rest of the family won’t. It’s hard for me too. Granny did so much for you.” “But I’m not guilty! Maybe it fell in there before, from another bag? Maybe someone else…” “Enough!” Lydia snapped. “You’re my daughter and I want to believe you, but the facts! The facts say you’re a thief!” With that, Lydia left Katie freezing in the cold. Katie didn’t even get to say goodbye to Granny. But she waited until the dust settled, until everyone left, then tried Granny’s flat, hoping her mother would be there. Lydia, though cold, would sometimes talk. Maybe now? But Arthur answered the door. He was tall—she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. Maybe, she thought, that was all for the best. “Arthur,” she pleaded. “Please, can we talk? Once. Just once.” “Oh, Katie. Still hoping to clear your little name? Too late,” her brother said. “Best just confess. Maybe you’ll be forgiven.” But Katie wouldn’t apologise for something she hadn’t done. “No. I need the truth. Maybe you made a mistake? What if the money fell from another bag? A pocket? Think—” Suddenly, Arthur’s eyes went cold. “Mistake? Katie, are you really that naïve?” He leaned closer. “Of course I know you didn’t steal it. I planted it in your bag myself.” She reeled. “What?” It was all she could manage. “You heard.” “Why?” she whispered. “Why would you do that?” To get rid of the competition. “In the race for the inheritance, sis, all’s fair. Granny wasn’t going to last more than a year, tops—you saw it. That flat? It was already signed to Mum so there wouldn’t be probate problems. Then came the issue: Mum’s sentimental, you know. She wanted to give it to you.” Katie was still lost. “But why?” “Because, darling Katie,” said Arthur with a sneer, “you came by every evening. Fed Granny, cleaned her flat, read little books she couldn’t even understand—a perfect granddaughter. Mum saw that and melted. She thought you deserved it all. And I didn’t? Am I not a grandson? Don’t I deserve something too? So I decided to compete.” “I never did it for the flat!” Katie shouted, more pained by the confession than anything else. “I did it for Granny! I loved her!” He snorted. “Oh spare me, Katie. We’re all human. You wanted to play the good girl, the devoted granddaughter, and scoop everything up. But I outplayed you. One-nil.” When Katie couldn’t answer, he finished it off. “So now,” Arthur concluded, “you’re the thief. Mum will never turn on me; I’m the good son. You’re the black sheep. And the flat is mine—who’d let you through that door now without a scene?” “You’re a real piece of work,” Katie spat. “Guilty as charged. Bye, sis. Inheritance secured.” He opened the front door. Katie didn’t move. A flat really would have helped—renting was dear and she’d never afford to buy. But she truly had loved Granny. She remembered Granny Thelma, even in confusion, once stroking her cheek and saying: “Thank you for coming, love. You’re just like my Pete.” And now, the only way to set her name straight would be to prove Arthur lied—but how? She couldn’t. Leaving the house, Katie knew that in a year, no one would remember she’d never been a bad person. They’d only remember one thing: Katie stole money from her dying grandmother. Arthur had already won, and he was celebrating.

Alls Fair

The family had gatheredyet again, all present and accounted for. As ever, the real reason was money, though they dressed the occasion up as a homely family dinner. Lynn, daughter of Granny Dorothy and the mother to Emily and Mark, was fiddling with her mums old handkerchiefsones Dorothy had always used for tucking away her cash. Now, Dorothy couldnt manage her own affairs; she didnt remember anyone, couldnt even recall her own name. Lynn still, out of habit and loyalty, wrapped Dorothys pension into those same faded squares of cloth.

Oh, not again, Lynn bewailed to the family, her voice trembling, Theyve gone missing. Its at least two hundred poundsI’m certain! I counted it myself. Where does it keep going? Mum, do you remember how much was there?

Granny Dorothy turned her headnot to her daughter, but to the dusty black-and-white photograph of her late husband perched on the mantel.

Oh, Peter what a lovely day, she mused. Then her gaze shifted to her granddaughter, Jennifer. You, my dear, dont meddle with my sweets, those are for guests Wheres Mark? Is he still at school?

Lynn began to fold the crisp notes. Of course, her mum didnt remembernot anymore. But Lynn was certain: someone in the family was pilfering the cash. The notion was absurdonly family ever visitedbut someone was definitely stealing. Worse, it was being stolen from a frail old woman.

Just then, Mark arrived, as if summoned by Dorothys wandering memory.

Crikey, all of you gathered round here like its a wake, he remarked, tossing aside his car keys.

Lynn, shaken, pressed a hand to her cheek. Mark, my boy, its awfulGrannys moneys gone missing again. Ive been putting her pension away in the cabinet for months. Someones taking it!

Mark cast a sardonic glance around the room. His mother trusted everyone; Mark trusted no one.

Money disappearing, is it? he said, narrowing his eyes. Well, I think Ive got an idea where it all goes.

He strode to the hallway and dragged in Jennifers battered striped holdall. Before she so much as blinked, Mark had tugged the zipper open and tipped the bags entire contents out onto the sticky plastic tableclothignoring Lynns startled protests.

Out tumbled lipstick, a compact mirror, jangling keys and money. Clumps of it.

Fifty-pound notes, crumpled but unmistakable. Hundreds in allfamiliar, clearly marked notes.

Look! Mark crowed, flourishing a note, I dropped her bag in the hall, picked it up, and saw these spilling outfifties! And theyre awfully familiar, arent they?

Aunt Georgina, whod been chewing her way through a salad with grim determination, swallowed hastily and nearly choked.

If you looked closely, each note bore a faint trace of blue biroa thin line, barely visible.

Remember? Mark continued. A month ago, when Mum here was counting the cash, Uncle John drew a stripe across them with his pen. Here they arethe very same notes, straight from Grannys pension.

All eyes fell sharply on Jennifer.

Jennifer, whod been motionless as a statue, recoiled.

Mark, what are you doing?

Doing? he snapped. Nothing! I told you, the bag fell, I went to pick it up, and saw your little stash! Only, its my mothers pension youve stashed away!

Jennifer realised there was no point trying to shout him down; she had to defend herself.

Thats not true! she shot up abruptly, bumping her chair against the table.

Even Dorothy turned, perturbed by the sudden noise.

Whats the row? Granny Dorothy called. Where are my slippers?

Everyone stared, wide-eyed.

Jenny, love Lynn stood, voice quivering. How could you? Why, darling? You have your joband I help out How could you steal from Granny?

Mum, I didnt! I never touched it!

Who then? Mark demanded, his voice shrill. Youre the one always fussing over Grannyyou say youre looking after her. No one else goes near the stash. Mum wouldnt. That only leaves you.

Jennifer shrank from them, as if she expected blows.

I swear, I never took anything! Please believe me!

She met her mothers gaze, desperate for trust, but Lynn just looked at her with horror.

Youre lying Lynn whispered. How could you?

I love Granny! Jennifer sobbed with abandonment. I only ever went there to help her! I swearI never touched those notes!

But the evidence was overwhelming: the money was in her bag. There were no other suspects.

Thats that, then, Mark concluded, matter-of-fact. Shame, Jen. Real shame. You couldve just askedwed have helped you. But to rob helpless Granny no one expected this from you.

That evening, Jennifer was asked to leave. Her entire world collapsed overnight. No one listened. No one wanted to. Even Lynn, once the shock faded, asked everyone to be gentlebut

Dont bring her round again, Lynn, hissed Aunt Georgina down the phone, as Lynn tried to make sense of things. Its a disgrace. Granny might not remember much now, but if she only knew who Jennifer had become

Lynn obeyed. She barely spoke to her daughter anymore. When Jennifer called, Lynns answers were curt: Busy, Later, Cant talk now.

Jennifer tried to fight, calling round the relatives from borrowed numbers, but as soon as they realised it was her, they hung up. Her attempts at investigating failednobody would speak or let her into Grannys flat.

The only one she managed to see was her mum.

Mum, please Jennifer pleaded fervently. I know it sounds like an excuse, but its the truthI swear its not me! Why dont you believe me?

It was hardest for Lynn; she was, after all, Jennifers mother.

Jen, Im hurting too. But the money was in your bag. And lets not talk about this again. If it were only me, maybe we could just forget itbut the rest of the family, theyll never let it go And its hard for me too. Granny did so much for you.

But Im not guilty! Maybe the notes fell in earlier? Or from someone elses bag? Maybe

Stop! Lynn snapped. Youre my daughter and I want to trust you, but the facts are thereyoure a thief!

And with those words, Lynn walked away, leaving Jennifer alone in the cold.

She hadnt even said goodbye to Granny.

But eventually, when the turmoil had died down and everyone had returned home, Jennifer chanced it and went round to Granny Dorothys place anyway, hoping her mum might be there. Lynn, though severe, sometimes agreed to talk. Maybe, just maybe, Jennifer could get through to her this time.

Instead, it was Mark who opened the door.

He was tall; Jennifer had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. Maybe, she thought grimly, it was for the best.

Mark Jennifer said. Pleaselets talk. Just once more.

Still trying to clear your name, are you? her brother scoffed. Give it up. No onell believe you. Best to just admit itmaybe then theyll forgive you.

But Jennifer wasnt about to confess to a lie.

No. I just need the truth. Maybe you made a mistake? Maybe the notes were from somewhere elsea pocket, a different bag? Please, think

But for a moment, Marks eyes went cold.

Mistake? You really dont get it, do you? he murmured, leaning down. Of course I know you didnt nick the money. I slipped it into your bag myself.

The shock nearly knocked the breath from her. What?

He shrugged, unashamed.

In the end, its every man for himself. Granny was on her last legsyou knew it, we all did. The flat was already put in Mums name to avoid probate issues. But Mum shes sentimental, you know. She wanted to give it to you.

Jennifer was still reeling.

Why?

He sneered, Because, precious Jennifer, you were always over herefeeding her, cleaning the flat, reading stories she never understood. The perfect granddaughter. Mum saw all that, grew soft. She thought you deserved it And what about me, eh? Am I not her grandson? Dont I deserve my share? So I took action.

I never did it for the flat! Jennifer cried, pain raw in her voice. I did it for Granny! I loved her!

He scoffed, Oh, spare me the fairy tales, Jen. Were none of us saints. You wanted to play the helpless lamb, win the prize by looking caringwell, I outplayed you. Games over.

When Jennifer could only stare in horror, Mark finished the reckoning himself.

So now, he said, not unkindly but with an air of victory, youre the thief. Mum wont turn on meIm the golden boy. But you? Youre tainted. And the flat? Mine, nowno onell let you in this house again without a scene.

You absolute bastard, Jennifer spat, voice trembling.

He smirked, unabashed. Thats life. Bye, sis. Enjoy your reputation.

He opened the door for her.

Jennifer didnt move. She knew she could do with that flatthe rent was steep, the hope of buying her own place an impossible dream. Still, the only thing that truly mattered was Granny. She remembered Dorothy, lost in her forgetfulness, stroking Jennifers cheek and whispering, Thank you for coming, my dear. You remind me so much of my Peter.

And now, to reclaim her good name, Jennifer needed to prove Marks guilt. But how?

There was no way.

Outside, she closed the door firmly behind her. She knew how it would go: a year from now, no one would recall that she was never a bad person. Theyd remember one thingJennifer stole from her dying grandmother.

Mark had already won. And he was celebrating.