— “After I’m Gone, You’ll Have to Move Out—I’m Leaving the Flat to My Son…” — “I’m Sorry, Gail, but after I’m gone you’ll need to leave this flat,” said Anthony to his wife. “I’m leaving it to my son. I’ve already sorted out the paperwork. I hope you won’t hold it against me? You have your own children—they’ll look after you.” Life had tossed Gail about. Raised in a children’s home, she had never known her parents. She married young, for love, but happiness eluded her. Thirty-five years ago she was left a widow—a young woman with two small children—when her husband Nicholas died tragically. She lived alone for five years, working tirelessly so her daughter and son wanted for nothing, until she met Anthony. Thankfully, Gail had a place of her own—her late husband’s flat had come to her by inheritance. Her new partner Anthony was thirteen years her senior, owned a three-bedroom flat, and earned well. They moved in together, and Gail’s children soon got along with him. Her older daughter, Vicky, was initially cautious, but Anthony won her trust. Gail’s younger son, Barry, immediately began calling Anthony “Dad.” Anthony raised them as his own—never stingy with time, effort, or money. Both Vicky and Barry were grateful for their happy childhoods. *** Barry and Vicky had long since moved out. Vicky married young. Barry, who dreamed of joining the army, hadn’t lived at home in years. Ten years ago, Gail called her children home. She wanted to discuss an important matter. “I want to sell our two-bedroom flat,” she told them. “We need major renovations here—new furniture, new pipes. No one’s lived in the two-bed for years, it’s just sitting empty. I wanted your blessing to sell it and split the money?” Vicky shrugged, “I don’t mind. I don’t need the flat, but to be honest, Mum, I wouldn’t turn down the money. You know my son needs treatment—we haven’t given up hope of getting him on his feet.” Vicky’s eldest had been born with a disability and needed costly ongoing rehab. Barry agreed, “I’m fine with it. Mum, give my share to Vicky—let her take Grisha to London for treatment. I’m paying my mortgage just fine. My nephew’s health matters more.” Gail sold the two-bed, gave half to Vicky, and put the rest into renovating Anthony’s flat—new wiring, plumbing, and appliances, all paid for from her own pocket. She didn’t know then that her investments would end up benefiting someone else, or that after thirty years her husband would betray her. Anthony’s health deteriorated four years ago. His knees ached so much he sometimes couldn’t get out of bed. Gail insisted he seek treatment. “Tony, stop acting like a child. Get to a doctor! I’ll go with you—someone has to look after your health.” Anthony groaned, “I know how this ends—expensive meds that won’t help. My knees have hurt most of my life—now it’s worse, but I’m almost seventy. No wonder they ache.” Vicky urged Anthony to see a doctor, and Gail went with him. The doctor sighed, “This is serious. Your joints need urgent care. You’ve got to lose weight, or things will get worse.” Gail took his health in hand—changing his diet to healthy foods, cutting out treats. Anthony refused to follow the advice, calling it all nonsense, but eventually agreed to treatment and a diet. But the medicine offered only brief respite. His pain returned, moving around the flat was hard; Gail would help him to the loo and bathroom. His heart and blood pressure gave him trouble too. Vicky and Barry spent as much time with Anthony as possible. *** For years, Anthony battled on, but his condition see-sawed. Gail stayed by his side. Six months ago, during a hospitalisation, she was preparing food for him when a knock came at the door—a young man with familiar features. “Hello! Is Mr Anthony Williams at home?” “I’m afraid he’s not. And you are?” “My name’s Simon. I’m Anthony’s son.” Gail was taken aback—this young man looked just like her husband in his youth. Simon explained, “I haven’t seen Dad in years. May I wait? I’d like to talk to him.” Gail invited him in. Simon soon shared, “Dad’s always been… let’s say, particular. It’s strange seeing him weak—he was always so strong. May I go with you to the hospital?” “Of course,” smiled Gail. “Tony will be glad to see you.” Gail hadn’t known Anthony had a son. He’d never spoken of a previous marriage, always claiming he’d never become a father—despite Gail’s attempts for a third child. Anthony didn’t at first recognise Simon. But as they reconnected, Anthony admitted his past: “Simon’s mum and I were married four years. I left when Simon was three—she cheated on me with my cousin! She later married him and told me to forget I had a son. For years I tried to see Simon, but they shut me out… Nearly thirty years, and now Simon’s found me. I don’t know how to relate to him—he’s blood, but a stranger.” “Tony,” Gail said gently, “he’s your son. Don’t turn him away. Let him in, so you won’t regret it later.” Anthony took her advice. Simon began visiting regularly—even meeting Vicky and Barry, who welcomed him. Gail was glad her husband had reunited with his son. Gail and Anthony had savings, mostly from money Gail set aside after selling her flat. Anthony hadn’t worked in years; it was Gail’s income that kept them going. She checked the account rarely, but was alarmed by a sudden bank notification—£1,500 missing. She confronted Anthony: “Tony, where’s our bank card? Someone’s taken out £1,500!” Anthony was unruffled, “No one robbed us. I gave the card to Simon—he needed the money, so I helped him.” “Why didn’t you tell me? Why not ask first?” “That’s none of your business,” Anthony snapped. “My son needed help, so I helped. What’s the problem?” Gail, shocked at his rudeness, asked for the card back. Anthony refused—“He’s my son, close family! You’re being ridiculous.” Gail, normally calm, lost her temper. “Tony, why should your son use my money? You haven’t put a penny in that account for years! I want the card back!” Anthony shouted, but Gail called the bank and had the card blocked. That evening, Simon appeared, frustrated: “Dad, the card doesn’t work anymore!” Gail replied, “No, because I blocked it. We helped you, but you don’t get free rein. My savings are mine—understood? From now on, all financial matters go through me.” Simon was offended and left. Anthony raged at Gail. After their row, she realised for the first time that she was tired of her husband. *** A few days passed, with no word from Simon. Anthony sulked, ignoring Gail, who retreated to her daughter’s for a break. When she returned, Anthony seemed cheerful. Gail was relieved, hoping he no longer resented her. But Anthony announced, “I was at the solicitor today. I’ve gifted the flat to my son.” Gail narrowed her eyes. “And for what, exactly?” “Simon’s my son, my only heir. I have no other children. When I’m gone, he’ll own this property. By the way, Gail, I’d suggest you start thinking about where you’ll live—the kids will look after you, I’m sure.” Gail was quietly wounded. Legally, perhaps she had no claim to the flat—but she had invested everything here, made it a home. Now it was all lost to her. “Thank you, Tony,” she said softly. “You’re right—I need to sort my own future. Call your son—let him look after you now.” “Why should Simon move in here?” Anthony was confused. Gail shrugged, packing a suitcase. “You don’t like being alone. Now your son can keep you company.” “And where will you go?” Anthony asked, baffled. “I’m leaving you. Getting a divorce, becoming free at last. I’ll call the kids and start making plans.” Gail moved in with her son, Barry, in his spacious flat; Vicky would have had her, but Gail didn’t want to crowd her daughter. At court, Anthony tried to avoid the divorce, but Gail insisted. To Anthony and his son, she was seen as grasping after property that was never hers. After I’m Gone, You’ll Have to Move Out—I’m Leaving the Flat to My Son… The True Story of Gail, Her Husband’s Betrayal, and the Home She Lost After Thirty Years Together

After Im gone, youll have to move out. Ill leave the flat to my son…

Sorry, Helen, but after I pass away youll need to find somewhere else to live, Michael said to his wife. Im leaving this flat to my son. Ive sorted all the paperwork already. I hope you arent too upset with me about it? You have children of your owntheyll look after you.

Life had been no easy ride for Helen. Raised in a childrens home, never knowing her parents, she married young, swept up in the hope of love, but it never brought her happiness. Thirty-five years ago, she was left widowed as a young mum with two little ones, when her husband, Nicholas, died in a tragic accident. She spent five years alone, working herself ragged to provide for her son and daughter, until she met Michael. Luckily, shed inherited Nicholas flatit gave her and the children a place of their own.

Michael, thirteen years her senior, owned a spacious three-bedroom flat and earned a solid living. Their relationship happened quickly. When Michael asked Helen to move in, she didnt hesitate. He got on brilliantly with her children right away. Helens eldest, May, was cautious at first, but Michael soon won her over. The younger child, Ben, almost immediately started calling him Dad. He raised the children as his own, never showing favouritism, dedicating his time, money, and attention. Both May and Ben were grateful for the loving upbringing hed offered.

***

Both Ben and May had long since flown the nest. May married young and built a life of her own, while Ben, set on a military career, had also lived away for years. Ten years back, Helen called her children home for a serious talk.

I want to sell that old two-bed flat, she told them, This place needs a major updatenew furniture, plumbing, the whole lot. Nobodys lived in the other flat for years. Its just sitting there gathering dust. I wanted your permission. Lets sell it and split the money?

May shrugged. I dont mind, Mum. Ive no claim on the flat, but truthfully, we do need the money. You know my son needs treatment. We still hope hell one day walk.

Mays eldest was born with a disability affecting his movement, and the family was always in need of fundsconstant treatment, trips to clinics in London, expensive rehabilitation. Ben agreed at once. Same here, Mum. Give my share to Maylet her take little Greg to London for his treatments. Im slowly paying off my mortgage, and weve got our place. My nephews health is far more important.

Helen sold the two-bed, gave half the proceeds to May, and used the rest for a full renovation of Michaels flatredoing the electrics, new plumbing, all new furniture and appliances, bought out of her own pocket. She had no inkling it would turn out to be a wasted investment in someone elses property. Helen couldnt have imagined that, after thirty years of marriage, Michael would betray her so bitterly.

Michaels health began declining four years ago. He started complaining of sharp, relentless pain in his knees, sometimes unable to get out of bed without help in the morning. Helen nagged him:

Come on, Michael, dont be childish. Go to the GP, get checked, get treated. Or Ill come with you if youre worried. You cant just ignore itwho else is going to look after your health if you wont?

Michael groaned. Helen, I know full well whatll happenthe doctor will fob me off with a load of expensive pills that wont do a thing. My knees have been dodgy since my twenties. In the past, a bit of rest did the trick, but now I can barely move.

May and Ben couldnt stand by and watch their stepfather suffer. May, always loving and loyal, convinced Michael to see the doctor, Helen by his side as always. After examining Michael, the GP shook their head, You need urgent treatment. How longs this been bothering you?

A good twenty-five years, give or take, Michael admitted. Used to just ache after work, now the pain nags all the timeeven if theres a change in the weather.

You need to lose weight, toothe strain on your joints is too much. Its serious, Michael. A proper diet is the first step.

Helen got stuck in, planning healthy meals and banning sweets, swapping chocolates for dried fruit. Michael sulked.

Its all nonsense. Im not going on some rabbit-food diet! Ill waste away in a month eating this stuff. Im fine the way I am. My knees hurt because Im nearly seventyits no surprise. Put the kettle on instead, and get some proper biscuits next shop. I wont choke down this dried fruit for much longer.

Helen persisted, cajoling and threatening until at last Michael agreed to try the treatment and lose some weight. The medication did little; the pain would ease for a day or two, then return. Michael became less mobile, and Helen had to help him even with basic things. Then his heart started acting up and his blood pressure soared. Michaels decline worried May and Ben so much that they visited even more.

***

Over the next years, Michael fought on. His condition waxed and wanedone step forward, two steps back. Helen never faltered, not once considering abandoning her ailing husband. Six months ago, after another bad episode, Michael was hospitalised; Helen spent days and nights by his bedside.

One day, as Helen was packing food to take to the hospital, the doorbell rang unexpectedly. A young man stood theresomething about him uncannily familiar.

Hello. Is Michael Thompson in? he asked.

Hello, Helen replied, wiping her hands on her apron, taken aback. Hes not here at the momenthes in the hospital right now. May I ask who you are?

My names Simon. Im Michael Thompsons son.

The resemblance was shockinghe looked just like Michael had as a young man. Simon noticed her surprise.

Could you tell me when hell be back? Id like to talk to him. Its been years. I just thought…

Oh, dont stand out on the landingcome in, Simon! Ill explain everything.

Simon listened as Helen explained, and then sighed. Dads always been… stubborn, just like you say. It breaks my heart to see how time drains a person. I remember him young, full of energy. May I come with you? I cant wait to see him.

Helen smiled. Of course. I think Michael would be thrilled to see you too.

Until that day, Helen had no idea Simon even existed. Michael had never spoken of an earlier marriage, let alone a sonhe always claimed hed never been able to have another child with Helen.

Michael struggled to recognise Simon at first. Simon didnt stay long, citing other commitments. Afterwards, Michael confessed to Helen:

I was with Simons mum for four years. Left when he was three. I adored hercouldnt imagine life without herbut she cheated on me with my own cousin! I caught them myself. She married him, refused my help, told me to forget I had a son. I tried to see Simon for two years, hung about the school gates, waited outside their housegot into it with her husband too many times. Eventually, I gave up. Life goes on. Nearly thirty years later, Simon tracks me down Now I dont know what to feel. Hes my son, yes, but hes also a stranger. I didnt raise him, I dont know him. I dont know how to act around him.

Helen replied, Hes your flesh and blood, Michael. Dont shut him out. Its not his fault about what happened between you and your first wife. Try to let him in, even if its late. Dont give yourself a regret.

Michael took her advice. Simon became a regular visitor, even getting to know May and Ben, who welcomed their stepfathers son with kindness. Helen was relieved to see her husband reconnect with the son hed lost.

Helen and Michael shared some savings. Most of the nest egg had come from Helenshed taken the money from the sale of the old flat, put it into her bank account, and topped it up with every paycheque she earned working remotely as an accountant for several firms.

Helen managed the account, but rarely checked the transactions. It was a random glance at a text from the bank that made her heart sink.

I havent withdrawn any money Michael hasnt left the house Who took out £4,000? Wheres the card?!

Helen rushed to Michael.

Michael, wheres the bank card with our savings? Two days ago someone withdrew four grand! We need to call the police, I think weve been robbed!

Michael was calm as ever.

No-ones robbed us, Helen. I gave the card to Simon. He needed cash, so I helped him.

Helen sat on the edge of the bed, stunned.

Michael, why didnt you tell me? Why didnt you check with me? Whats so serious that your son needs such a big amount?

Thats none of your concern, Michael snapped. My son asked for help, I gave it. Whats your problem?

Lately, Michaels tone had grown sharper, but Helen kept her cool.

So where is the card now?

With Simon. I told you I gave it to him! Why are you asking silly questions? Arent you listening to me?

Michael, call your son now and ask him to bring the card back. That money is for a rainy day, and I dont want anyone else having access, even Simon.

Hes my son! Michael bellowed. My own family! Why are you accusing him of something? I said he could use it, and thats that!

For the first time, Helens composure cracked. Why should your son be using my money? Youve not contributed to this account in yearshow long have you been retired? Thats all from my wages, month after month! Simon can return my cardI dont want to make trouble, but these are my savings.

Michael shouted her down, but Helen rang the bank and blocked the card. That very evening, Simon appeared.

Dad, the card doesnt work anymore. I couldnt get the money out.

Thats right, Helen said briskly. Because I cancelled it. We helped you when you asked, but there was no promise you could use up all our savings! You can chuck the card away now.

Simon flared up. Why did you do that, Helen? Dad told me I could take as much as I needed! Listen, can you just give me a new card? I need to pay for some furnituretheyre delivering today!

Youre planning to buy your own furniture with my money? Helen snapped. Thats enough. Michael has no right to spend my savings, and neither do you. From now on, any money business goes through me. Your fathers pension barely covers his own needs, never mind yours.

Simon left in a huff, and Michael launched into another torrent of blame. Helen endured his anger but, for the first time in decades, she admitted to herself that she was tired of himtired of giving so much and never receiving a hint of gratitude.

***

Days trickled by after their row; Simon didnt visit again. Michael, sulking, gave Helen the silent treatment. To clear her head, Helen packed up her laptop and went to stay with May.

Let Michael stew over his behaviour a bit, she thought as she left. Perhaps some time apart will do us good. Lately it feels like nothing is working between us.

She left in the morning, returning home late in the evening. Michael seemed in a cheerful mood. Helen hoped hed finally let go of his resentment. She ventured,

How was your day? What did you get up to while I was gone?

Not much, Michael drawled. Simon dropped by; we had a few errands to run. Just got back about an hour before you. Quite a lot of walkingknackered now.

Helen said nothing. After a moment, Michael broke the silence:

I hope youre not angry with me?

Why should I be? she replied, puzzled.

I went to the solicitor today. Ive signed this flat over to Simon.

Helen raised her eyebrows. Oh? And whats he done to deserve that?

Simons my son, my only real heir. I have no other children. When Im gone, hell own the place. And HelenI think youd best make plans for your future as well. Will you go to May or Ben?

A sharp hurt struck Helen. She knew that, legally, she had no right to claim the flatbut morally, she felt she had earned at least half. Everything in the home, from the curtains to the kettle, Helen had chosen and paid for. Shed planned the renovations, furnished every room, even changed the doors herself. Nowall of it would go to a stranger.

Thank you, Michael, she murmured quietly, maybe youre right. Maybe its time I thought about my own future. Why dont you call your son, ask him to move in? He can look after you now.

What do you mean? Michael frowned. Why would Simon move in?

I dont know, Helen shrugged, pulling a suitcase out of the wardrobe. You dont like being on your own, so maybe your son can keep you company in the evenings.

And where are you going? Michael was finally alarmed. Helen, whats happening? Explain yourself!

Theres nothing to explain, she said wearily. Im leaving you, Michael. I want a divorce, and I want my freedom. Ill just pack up and ring the kidsstart making plans for my future.

Helen moved in with Ben, who had a three-bedroom flat all to himself and carved out space for his mother. May would have welcomed her too, but Helen didnt want to intrude.

Michael showed up in court for the divorce, refusing to let her go quietly. The judge suggested they take time to reconcile, but in the end, Helen pressed on and the marriage was dissolvedleaving Michael and his son convinced she had only ever cared about the property hed given away.