— After I’m Gone, You’ll Have to Move Out—The Flat Will Go to My Son… — I’m sorry, Gail, but after I’m gone, you’ll have to vacate this flat, — said her husband Tony. — I’m leaving it to my son. I’ve already made the necessary arrangements. I hope you’re not upset with me about this? You’ve got your own children—they’ll look after you. Life had never been kind to Gail. Raised in an orphanage, she never knew her parents. She married young for love but found little happiness. Thirty-five years ago, she was left a widow with two small children when her husband, Nick, tragically died. Gail spent five years alone, working hard to give her son and daughter a good life, until Tony came into her world. At least she had her own roof—Nick’s flat had come to her as an inheritance. Gail’s new love, Tony, was thirteen years her senior, owned his spacious three-bedroom flat, and earned well. They quickly decided to move in together, and Tony got on splendidly with the children of the woman he loved. Gail’s eldest, Vicky, was wary of her stepdad at first, but Tony soon won her trust. Gail’s son, Ben, all but instantly called Tony “Dad.” Tony raised them as his own—never stingy with money, time, or affection—and Vicky and Ben were forever grateful for a joyful childhood. *** Both Vicky and Ben had long moved out. Vicky married early and left the nest, while Ben, who dreamed of a career in the Army, hadn’t lived at home in years. Ten years ago, Gail asked her children over to discuss an important matter. “I want to sell our two-bed flat,” she told them over tea. “We need major renovations here: furniture’s outdated, pipes need changing. No one lives in that old place anyway—it’s just sitting empty. If you’re both happy, I say we sell it and split the money.” Vicky shrugged. “That’s fine with me—I don’t need the flat, but to be honest, Mum, I could use the cash. You know how expensive it is treating my son, and we’re still hoping to help him fully recover.” Vicky’s eldest had a birth defect affecting his legs, so money was tight—constant rehab, trips to London, and private treatment sucked up every penny. Ben nodded in agreement. “Me neither, Mum. Give my share to Vicky for little Greg’s treatment. I’ve got my flat and still working on the mortgage. My nephew’s health matters more.” So the flat was sold. Gail gave half the proceeds to Vicky, and with what was left, she completely renovated Tony’s place—new wiring, new pipes, all new furniture and appliances, paid for out of her own pocket. Never could she have imagined her generosity would turn out to be for nothing, or that after thirty years together, Tony would betray her so cruelly. Tony’s health took a turn for the worse four years ago. He complained constantly of knee pain—some days, he couldn’t get out of bed unaided. Gail pleaded: “Tony, stop acting like a child and go to the doctor. Get some proper treatment—I’ll go with you if you want!” Tony grumbled in reply, “Doctors will just prescribe a load of expensive rubbish that won’t work. My knees have ached since I was young… Just worse now I’m nearly seventy.” Vicky had always called Tony “Dad” like Ben did, so she was determined to help. Together, the women made Tony go to the GP, and after a thorough check, the doctor was blunt: “It’s serious. You need urgent treatment. And you really must lose some weight before it gets worse.” Gail took this to heart—she overhauled Tony’s diet, swapped sweets for dried fruit, and cooked only healthy, low-calorie meals. Tony wasn’t having it. “I’m not living like a rabbit! I’ll drop dead starving before my knees ever get better!” But Gail stood firm, and eventually Tony agreed to treatment and dieting. Medicines barely helped, pain came and went, and soon Tony could barely move about the flat. Gail led him everywhere by the hand, and heart and blood pressure troubles soon arrived. He seemed to visibly age before their eyes, and Vicky and Ben took to spending as much time with him as possible. *** For several years, Tony battled on, but the ups and downs wore him out. Gail never once thought of leaving him, always nursing him over each crisis. Six months ago, Tony had a bad turn and ended up in hospital. Gail rarely left his bedside. One evening, as she was packing food for a visit, the doorbell rang. At the door stood a young man unfamiliar to her, yet oddly familiar at the same time. “Evening. Is Tony Evans in?” “I’m afraid he’s not home. Sorry, but who are you?” “I’m Serge. Tony Evans is my dad.” Gail was stunned—the resemblance to her husband as a young man was uncanny! She invited Serge in, feeling awkward and unprepared for the sudden revelation. Over tea, she learned her husband had never mentioned Serge, or that he’d been married before. When they finally visited Tony together, even her husband needed a moment to recognise his son. Later, Tony told Gail how he’d left Serge’s mum after catching her with a cousin, and how he’d been barred from Serge’s life—until, nearly thirty years on, Serge had tracked him down. “Serge is my son, my blood,” Gail said gently. “You can’t blame the child for the way his mother acted—give him a chance to know you.” Tony took her advice and began seeing Serge regularly, who soon met both Ben and Vicky—who welcomed their stepbrother warmly. Gail was happy for Tony, but unnoticed, their bank account was running low. Gail, still working as a remote accountant, checked her phone out of habit one day and was shocked to see a £1,500 withdrawal. She hurried to Tony. “Where’s our bank card? Someone’s emptied our account—was it you?” “Oh, don’t worry,” Tony replied calmly. “I gave Serge the card. He needed the money, so I helped him out.” “Why didn’t you tell me? Why give him so much, without even asking?!” “It’s none of your business,” Tony snapped. “He’s my son, he needed help. What’s your problem?” Rows followed, but Gail called the bank and cancelled the card. That night, Serge arrived, indignant: “The card’s blocked, Dad! We agreed I could use it.” Gail laid down the law: “That money’s mine—I paid for it every month. From now on, you get nothing without asking me.” After that, Serge stopped visiting, and Tony rarely spoke to Gail, giving her the silent treatment until, finally, she decided to spend some time away at her daughter’s house, “Let Tony think things over—a bit of space will do us good.” She returned home that night to find Tony in a cheerful mood, but then he looked at her seriously: “I hope you won’t be cross, but I went to the solicitor today—the flat’s now Serge’s.” “Really?” said Gail, quietly. “For what, exactly?” “He’s my son—my only flesh and blood. You’d better start sorting out where you’ll go next: your daughter’s or your son’s place?” A heaviness settled over Gail. Legally, perhaps, she had no rights to the flat, but it hurt. Every bit of furniture, every curtain, every pound she’d spent making that place a home—none of it mattered now. “Well, thank you, Tony,” she said softly. “Maybe you’re right. I need to look after myself now. Call your son—he can move in and look after you from now on.” “What’s going on, Gail? Where are you going? Explain yourself!” “There’s nothing to explain, Tony. I’m leaving you. I’ll call the children and make plans for my future.” Gail moved in with Ben, who had plenty of room. Vicky would have taken her too, but Gail didn’t want to impose. Tony tried to contest the divorce, but in the end, Gail was free—though she was left, in Tony and Serge’s eyes, as a gold-digger after someone else’s home.

Im sorry, Helen, but after Im gone, youll have to move out. Im leaving the flat to my son said Anthony to his wife. Ive already put everything in place. I hope you dont hold it against me? You have children of your own, and theyll look after you.

Helens life had never been a gentle ride. Raised in a childrens home, she never knew her parents. She married young for love, but never really found happiness with her first husband. Thirty-five years ago, still a young woman and mother of two small children, she became a widow when her husband, Nicholas, died suddenly in an accident. Helen spent five years on her own, working endlessly to make sure her daughter and son never went without. Then she met Anthony. Fortunately, she had her own flatinherited from Nicholas.

Anthony was thirteen years her senior, owned a spacious three-bedroom flat, and had a decent job. They quickly decided to move in together, and Helen accepted right away. Her children took to Anthony too. Her daughter, Alice, was reserved at first, but Anthony gradually won her over. Helens son, Peter, immediately began calling Anthony Dad. He didnt distinguish between his own and Helens childrenhe gave his time, care, and money generously. Both Alice and Peter were grateful to Anthony for giving them such a happy childhood.

***

Years passed, and Peter and Alice had long since flown the nest; Alice married young and moved out, while Peter, always dreaming of joining the army, lived far from home for years. Ten years ago, Helen invited her children round to discuss an important matter.

I want to sell our old two-bedroom flat she told them. We need to completely refurbish this one. The furniture needs replacing, the pipes in the bathroom are ancientit all needs doing. No one lives there anymore; the flats just sitting empty. I wanted to check with you both first. Why dont we sell it and split the money?

Alice shrugged. I dont mind. Im not claiming the flat, but honestly, Mum, I cant say no to some extra money. You know what its likemy son needs ongoing treatment. Were still hoping hell pull through.

Alices eldest was born with health problemshe suffered from a congenital condition affecting his movement. With constant therapy, trips to London, and treatment in private centres, money was always tight. Peter stood by his sister.

I dont mind either. Mum, give my share to Alice. Let her take little Christopher to London for treatment. Im slowly paying off my mortgage; Ive got my own place, and Chriss health is more important.

Helen sold the two-bed flat, gave Alice half the proceeds, and used the remainder to do up Anthonys flateverything from rewiring to new plumbing, even new appliances and furniture that she paid for herself. She had no idea, as she poured years of savings into her husbands property, that she would one day regret it bitterly, or that, after thirty years together, Anthony would betray her trust.

Anthonys health declined rapidly four years back. He was constantly complaining of pain in his kneessometimes couldnt even get out of bed on his own. Helen nagged him:

Dont be stubborn, Tony, go see a doctor, get it checked properly, and youll feel better! Look, Ill go with you if you like. But at least tryno one else will take care of you!

But Anthony would moan: Helen, I know whatll happen! Theyll just prescribe a load of expensive pills, and they wont help! Ive had bad knees since I was young. They always ached after a long shift, but now they hurt all the timeeven when the weather changes!

Alice and Peter loved their stepdad, always called him Dad, and they both insisted he see a doctor. Helen accompanied him. After examining him, the doctor shook his head, Its serious; you need treatment quickly. How long have you had these pains?

Oh, decades Anthony admitted. At least twenty-five years. It used to come only with hard work. Now it aches constantly.

Well, you need to lose weight to take pressure off the joints. Do you realise how dangerous your situation is? Youll have to start a diet, and the sooner the better.

Helen took charge of Anthonys health. After talking with the specialist, she changed his mealsonly healthy, low-calorie food, heaps of veg and whole grains, and she stopped buying chocolate, swapping it for dried fruit. But Anthony wouldnt follow these recommendations.

Nonsense! he ranted. Im not living on rabbit food! Thatll be the end of me. Theres nothing wrong with me but old age! Im nearly seventy! So stop this, Helen. Just make me a cup of teaand could you buy some proper sweets?

Helen was resolute. With a blend of gentle pleading, threats, and the odd bit of blackmail, she got Anthony reluctantly following the regimetaking what the doctor prescribed and dieting a bit. But the treatments didnt help muchthe pain eased only for a short while, then returned. Eventually, Anthony could barely get round the flat. Helen had to help him into the bathroom. Soon, his heart and blood pressure started causing trouble, too. Peter and Alice, worried, visited as often as they could.

***

For several years Anthony fought his illness. Thered be small signs of improvement, but then things would get worse. Helen never once considered leaving his sideeven at the worst of it. Six months ago, Anthony had to be taken to hospital. Helen spent her days and nights there. One day, while packing food into containers before visiting, there was an unexpected knock at the door. Standing on the doorstep was a young man with familiar features.

Good afternoon. Is Anthony Mulligan in? he asked.

Hello Helen replied, drying her hands on her apron. Im afraid hes not here right now. Can I ask who you are?

My names Simon. Im Anthony Mulligans son.

Helen was stunnedthe likeness was uncanny. Simon, noticing her confusion, asked: Could you tell me when hell be home? Id really like a word with him. Havent seen him in years, so I thought…

Dont just stand out here, Simon! Helen bustled him in. Come on in, Ill explain everything.

Simon listened quietly and observed, Dads always been like that … a bit difficult, as you put it. Its hard seeing how much time changes a person. I remember him young, strong and well. May I come along to the hospital with you to see him?

Of course, she smiled. Hell be pleased to see you.

Helen had never known about Simon. Anthony had never mentioned a previous marriage. In fact, hed often complained that hed never been a fatherHelen couldnt have a third child despite trying.

Anthony didnt recognise Simon immediately. Simon didnt stay longsaying he had other things to do, he made his excuses and left. That evening Anthony opened up:

I was with Simons mother for only four years. I left when Simon turned three. I loved Maggie, couldnt live without herbut she cheated on me with my own cousin! I caught them red-handed, and she married him. She refused my help, told me to forget I had a son. I tried to see Simon, waited outside his school, staked out their house. My cousin even took a swing at me a few times. After a couple of years, I just gave up … figured life would sort itself out. Turns out, it didalmost thirty years later, Simon found me. But you know, Helen, I honestly dont know how to act around him. Hes my son, but also a complete strangerI didnt raise him. I dont know what to do.

Tony, hes your own flesh and blood, Helen said gently. Dont turn away. None of this was the childs fault. Give him a chanceand yourself. You might regret it if you dont.

Anthony took her advice. He started seeing Simon regularly; Simon even got to know Alice and Peter, who welcomed him warmly.

Helen was happy the family had reconnected. Simon visited almost every week, and he and Anthony would have long chats in the bedroomthe door always half-closed. Helen never listened in; she was never one for snooping.

Helen and Anthony had built up some savingsmainly thanks to Helen, who had put away the money left from selling the two-bed flat and kept adding to it from her salary. She was still working remotely as an accountant for several local businesses; she hadnt retired yet.

Helen rarely checked her bank account daily, so she was shocked when she saw a text from the bank one afternoon quite by accident.

Ive not taken any money out she thought. Wheres the card? A hundred and fifty thousand pounds gone? Thats huge!

She ran to Anthony. Tony, wheres the bank card? Someones withdrawn £150,000! I missed the notification; I have no idea when it happened. Should we report itthe accounts been robbed!

Anthony was completely calm. No one robbed us, Helen. I gave the card to Simon. He needed the money so I helped him out.

Helen sat on the edge of the bed. Why didnt you say anything to me? Why didnt you ask? How could you not tell me? What could Simon possibly need that much for?

Helen, dont concern yourself Anthony snapped My son needed help, so I helped him. Whats the problem? Why so upset?

Lately, Anthony had gotten sharp-tempered, but Helen kept her cool. She took a deep breath and asked gently: So wheres the card now?

Simon has it, said Anthony flatly.

Please, Tony, call your son and ask for the card back. That moneys for emergencies. I dont want anyone but us to have access.

Hes my son! roared Anthony. Close family! You think hes stealing? I said he could use it, and hes not giving it back!

Normally patient and level-headed, Helen was finally angry. Tony, why should your son use my money? You havent earned a penny in yearshavent put anything into that account! This is from my monthly salary. Let him return the cardI dont want any bad feeling.

Anthony raged at her. Helen blocked the card, then called the bank to stop further use. Simon turned up that same evening.

Dad, the card doesnt work anymore! I couldnt get any more money.

Thats right, replied Helen calmly, I blocked it. We helped you when you needed it, but youre not spending all our savings. You can bin the card now.

But, Dad, why would she do that? We agreed I could spend what I needed! Mrs Helen, can you give me a card that works? I need to pay for some furniture.

Youre planning to buy your furniture with my savings? Helen snapped. Why? Look, to be clear, your father has no claim to these savingsthis is my money and only mine, understood? From now on, all finances go through me.

Simon left in a huff, and Anthony turned on Helen, furious. They argued fiercelyHelen, for the first time, wondered why she had stayed with Anthony so long. After everything shed done, he showed not a shred of gratitude.

***

A few days passed and Simon didnt show up. Helen couldnt stand the tension. Anthony, always sulky when he was angry, had started ignoring her completely. Wanting some breathing room, Helen packed her laptop and went to stay at Alices for a bit.

Let Tony think about his behaviour, she decided. Perhaps some time apart will do us good; things have got rather prickly lately!

She left in the morning, returning late that evening. Anthony seemed in good spiritsHelen was surprised and hoped things were going back to normal. She asked, How was your day? What did you get up to while I was out?

Oh, nothing much, Anthony replied. Simon dropped by, we went out on a few errands together. I only got home about an hour before you. Lot of walking, Im tired now.

Helen said nothing. After a pause, Anthony said suddenly: I hope youre not angry with me.

Why would I be? Helen asked, frowning.

I went to the solicitors today. Ive signed over the flat to Simon.

Helen raised her eyebrows. Oh! And what did Simon do to deserve that?

Hes my son and sole heir, Anthony declared. Ive no other children of my own. When Im gone, this home will be his. By the way, Helen, youd do well to start thinking about your own future. Where will you goAlices or Peters?

It stung. Legally, yes, she had no claim. But couldnt Anthony see that so much in this homesofa, curtains, even the doorknobsshed chosen with her own hands, bought with her own money, fixed and improved? And now all of it would go to someone she barely knew.

Well, thank you, Tony, whispered Helen. Youre probably right. Its time I thought of my own future. Perhaps you should ring your son, see if hell move in with you. After all, someone will need to look after you in the evenings.

Whats that supposed to mean? Anthony was confused.

I dont know, Helen shrugged, pulling her suitcase from the wardrobe. You hate being on your own. Now Simon can keep you company.

Where are you going? Anthony was completely thrown. Helen, whats going on?

Theres nothing left to say, Tony, Helen sighed. Im leaving. Getting a divorce. Ill pack my things and call the children. Time to make some plans for myself.

Helen moved in with Peter, who had a spare room for her in his own three-bedroom flat. Alice had offered too, but Helen didnt want to impose. Anthony turned up for the court hearing; he didnt want to grant the divorce, but the judge gave them a cooling-off period. Later, Helen pressed on and got the divorceleaving Anthony and his son painting her as a selfish gold-digger, out for his home.

Yet as she settled into her new life, Helen realised what she should have known all along: when you give your heart and trust, give only to those who value both. True family are not simply those youre tied to by blood, but those who treat you with respect and kindness in equal measure. Sometimes, caring for others is important, but caring for yourself is essential.