My wife and I moved out of our flat in London and settled down in the countryside. Our son moved in with his mother-in-law, and started letting out our place.
My wife and I married when we were 23. In fact, she was already expecting at the time of the wedding. Wed both finished university, having studied at the School of Education. Our families weren’t wealthy there wasnt a well-off uncle or father footing the bill so everything we accomplished, we did with our own hard work.
We started working early on. Practically from birth, our son was bottle-fed. Whether from stress or a lack of variety in her diet, my wife, still so young, couldnt breastfeed. At just eleven months, we enrolled our boy in nursery. There, he learnt to eat with a spoon, use a potty, and nap without being rocked. Both of us had to work.
At first, we lived in a rented flat, then a tiny bedsit, and eventually we put money aside for a two-bedroom flat. Being country folk at heart, we also wanted a bit of land, so a few years ago, we bought a small plot outside Oxford. I built a little two-room cottage myself, brick by brick. We put in a cooker, levelled the garden, bought some furniture.
We were happy, really. Just the two of us, finally able to slow down and enjoy life at 46. But you cant change your nature. At the same age Id married, our son, too, decided the time had come. His fiancée, Emily, comes from a well-to-do family. Both she and our son studied law. They chose to get married.
Then came the demands a posh restaurant for the wedding, a limousine, a honeymoon abroad, a flat of their own.
Since the day our son was born, I always worried we hadnt given him enough love. Nursery early, school early my wife and I were working all the time, as teachers often do. We cared for other peoples children more than our own, it seemed. Our son spent a lot of time by himself, with his grandparents living miles away. But, at the very least, we tried to make up for it materially: expensive toys, good clothes, a well-furnished room, paid tuition, even a car when he passed his test at 18.
Now we decided to help him further. All the money wed saved, we gave towards the wedding. After a long talk, my wife and I agreed to gift them our flat as a start in life, thinking, let them not struggle as we did. Emilys parents contributed too, but theirs went mostly towards her: furs, jewellery, luxury items. They also have a grand house in the countryside with three floors and top-of-the-line cars. We refurnished the whole flat for the newlyweds.
Bit by bit, though, our son withdrew from us only visiting once a month, then not calling at all. Emilys uncle sorted him out with a good job at a firm.
Then, quite by accident, my wife and I bumped into a neighbour at the market. She let it slip that our son hadnt been living in our flat for some time, but had moved in with his mother-in-law. Our flat had been let out. My wife was immediately beside herself. I tried to keep calm. I rang my son, and he answered rudely, saying we had given them the flat, and that we never had any real money anyway. He yelled that he had always come off the worst, and blamed us for letting him and his wife enjoy a better life than his own parents could afford. He said he was ashamed to be sponging off his mother-in-law, while we, his parents, were just simple teachers.
My wife and I decided it was time to stand up to the injustice and selfishness. We consulted a solicitor, who explained that since wed never formally transferred the flat, our son had no legal right to let it out. The owner is the legal owner the one who decides who can live there.
We decided not to take our son to court, and told the tenants they could stay a month more. We explained everything, and they were thoroughly decent about it, moving out on time without a fuss. We returned to our old flat.
But our relationship with our son is still in tatters. My wife is filled with bitterness, and so am I. Maybe, over time, well reconcile. Right now, were just coping.
