Injustice
“Mum,” I asked again, “why did I only receive three hundred and thirty thousand? Why not a million? What sort of sum is that”
I could hear the hairdryer humming in the other room. Mum turned it off and replied,
“Yes, that’s right,” Mumher name was Margarethad deftly taken charge of the money, “Three hundred and thirty.”
But I should have received a much larger sum.
“Three hundred and thirty? Mum, wheres the remaining six hundred and seventy? I was expecting nearly a million. It was Dads moneyyou were supposed to transfer the full amount after selling the house.”
“Oh, Clara, dont start with your numbers,” she sighed, “You know perfectly well, I handled everything fairly.”
“What do you mean, fairly?” The parquet floor beneath my feet creaked, as if it too shared my outrage. “I gave you power of attorney to sell MY housethe one I inherited from my father. I asked you to send me the money. Where is it? Wheres it gone?”
Ah, I realised Id been too hasty to trust.
“And I did send it!” Mums hairdryer roared back to life, “But as your mother, I did what good mothers do. I split the money evenly between the children. Youve received your rightful third.”
But it was all supposed to be mine. Rightfully.
“You mean you split Dads inheritance between me and them?” I meant my step-brothers, Jack and Thomas. “Mum, that was my money! My fathers! Ive a different father to them, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“What difference does it make, whose father it is?” Mum was now brushing her hair, arranging it in front of the mirror. “The money belongs to the family. Theyre your brothers, and Im your mother. Would you really have me sit by while you receive all that and your brothers go without? That wouldnt be right! I made things fair. Even share for everyone.”
If only I could go back to the day I signed that document and give myself a proper scolding for my foolishness
“Even? You split my million into three! Three hundred and thirty three thousand each! Wheres the rest? The house sold for a bit more than that, even.”
“Well, yes, it ended up being a little over a million pounds after fees and taxes,” Margaret replied offhandedly. “I rounded it down. The rest I kept for myselffor all my trouble. Would you really have coped with all that endless paperwork? No! I did it all for you, while you were busy at work.”
“As if it was such a burden for you.”
“Dont take that tone with me!” Mum snapped. “Your father was only your father, but Im your mother, so I get to decide how things are done. And besides, youre the eldestyou need less than the boys. Theyll have families to support before long, while as a girl, expectations are different.”
“What, and I dont need a family? Or am I just supposed to live on scraps because Im a girl and so apparently need less?” I asked, my tone cutting. “Transfer the rest, Mum. Now.”
“No.”
Short and resolute. Full stop.
She knew I wouldnt press it. Who takes their own mother to court over money? No one would understand, and theyd whisper behind my back. And she was still my mother, after all, and we still spoke, sometimes.
A few weeks later, Id managed to calm myself and get my finances under control. But then I saw the photos on Jacks social mediashowing off a shiny blue Polo. Thomas had posted a picture as well, captioned “My brand new ride!”
Theyd each treated themselves to a cheap new car. Well, so be it. I decided to set aside my three hundred and thirty thousand and bide my time. Patience is golden, as Gran used to say.
More than a year passed. I worked, saved, planned. The sting of it all faded, but I never truly forgot. Mum behaved as if nothing had happenedshe rang, chirped away about this and that, always so cheerful.
But then today, her voice took on a chilly note that set my teeth on edge.
My nerves hardened.
“What is it, Mum?”
“Your brothers gran Jack and Thomass gran she passed away this morning.”
It was strangeI felt like a character in some old film, distanced from it all. That grandmother had never had a place in my life. For me, she was just “Mums mother-in-law” or “the boys gran.” Still, one feels sorry for any loss.
“Oh. My condolences,” I offered.
“I have to manage the funeral arrangements, paperwork, everything by myself. The boys well, theyre at a loss. Can you come? I need help?”
But I couldn’t gonot out of spite, but because work simply wouldn’t let me go.
“Mum, I cant just take off work and fly down for the funeral of someone I met three times at most,” I explained.
Shed never taken me to visit that grandmother anyway.
“Oh, please!” Mum begged. “I really need you.”
“I cant come, but Ill help with money. How much is needed? Tell me and Ill transfer it over.”
For a moment Mum hesitated, but she knew as well as I didmoney wouldnt go amiss.
“Its not quite the same but all right. Could you spare twenty thousand?”
“Itll be done. And you know what,” I paused, realising this was my chance, “I’ll send you a little more, in addition, so youre not worried for the smaller things. Think of it as my way of showing some respect for their gran.”
“Thank you, Clara. You always come through.”
I hung up, feeling a wretched sense of satisfaction. I now had my excuse: I hadnt come down, but I had helped. No one could blame me now.
Six months went by. The funeral faded into distant memory. Jack and Thomas, by the looks of it, had acquired new toysmaybe motorbikes, maybe the latest phones.
One quiet Tuesday, I decided it was time. I dialled Mums number, sitting in the staff room at work as I prepared for the next meeting.
“Hello, Mum! How are things?”
“Clara! All ticking along. Thomas has a new jobbetter pay than the last one. Jack well, hes happy enough, seeing someone new.”
“Im glad to hear it,” I replied. “Mum, I did want to ask about one thing”
“What thing?” she asked, suddenly guarded.
“Its been half a year since their gran died. I take it theyve received their inheritance?”
This time the conversation was more difficult than even the row over the three hundred and thirty thousand.
“Clara, what are you getting at? Yes, theyve sorted it.”
“Good. So wheres my share?”
“What share?” Mum tried to feign confusion, but after all these years, I could tell when she was lying.
“From the estate.”
“But she wasnt your grandmother.”
“And what difference does that make?” I pressed, echoing her logic from before. “Im your childyou always said that no one should be left out. When it was my fathers money, you shared it between us, in the name of fairness.”
“Clara, this is completely different!” Mum fired back. “Totally different!”
“How so? You said inheritance was family propertyyou decide, as mother, and everyone should have the same support!”
“Dont twist things”
“Oh I see!” I replied, sarcasm prickling my words. “How convenient! When you split my million, my dads inheritance became family property and had to be shared. But now, suddenly, when it comes to their grandmothers flat, inheritance is strictly divided along bloodlines?”
“Dont get clever with your words!” Mum huffed, her voice bristling, “Are you really saying you expect a share of my mother-in-laws estate? How am I supposed to explain that to the boys?”
“Im saying that you took advantage of my trust to swipe a third of my money, justifying it with your favourite logic One mother, one family, so everythings shared. Well, Id like to apply that logic to this situation, since youre so fond of it. You helped them with the sale too, didnt you?”
“The moneys already been spent.”
“Spent on what? Cars? Home improvements? Well, Id like a share too. Wheres my money, Mum? You told me before that I should be content with less, because Im a girl. But Im not.”
For a moment, she went quiet, likely pondering how to untangle herself from the logic trap shed set up herself years before. Thats how things always went in our family. My stepfather was dad to the boys, so they deserved the bestalways, and I was on the outside. That gran couldnt stand mesome outsiders child, never truly a granddaughter. Mum never stood up for me.
“Clara, what sort of person are you?” Mum finally shot back, clearly lost for arguments. “Why do you even care about the money? Youve got a good job, your health, your independence. You dont need as much. Thomas and Jack need to think about homes. Theyre men! Its harder for them!”
“So your view is: my fathers inheritance is to be split equally, because were siblings, but their grans money is only for thembecause theyre men, and Im merely a girl, whom little is expected of?”
“Dont be cheeky,” Mum retorted. “Where does all this greed come from?”
Mum would never admit she was wrong. In her eyes, I was the miser for simply asking for fairness.
“You might have forgotten, but with that power of attorney, you were obliged to transfer to me the whole amount from the sale. And you know, the statute of limitations hasnt passed yet. Im not threatening, but”
“Clara! Are you threatening your own mother?” she whispered in alarm.
“No, Mum. But I can still claim my money if I wish. Just think about that.”
A month later, the full amount owed to me was discreetly transferred. And then, pointedly, I was blocked from their phones and lives.
