**Diary Entry: A Grandmother’s Defiance**
Why take out a mortgage when you can just wait for Grandma to die and inherit her flat? That’s what my brother-in-law, Simon, decided. He and his wife, Rebecca, have three children, yet instead of getting a loan, they’re counting the days until my husband’s grandmother passes so they can claim her home. Their greed sparked a family row that rattled the whole of Woodchester.
Simon, Rebecca, and their kids all live in Granny Margaret’s flat. Cramped doesn’t even begin to describe it—imagine five people squeezed into three rooms. But rather than finding a place of their own, they’re fuming that Margaret, at 78, is still full of life. She looks after herself, keeps up with technology, attends concerts, meets friends for tea, and even enjoys the occasional date. Her zest for living drives Simon and Rebecca mad. Tired of waiting, they hatched a plan: convince Granny to sign the flat over to Simon and move into a care home. Margaret refused outright, igniting Simon’s fury. Her stubbornness was the spark that set everything ablaze.
Margaret had a dream—to visit Japan. When my husband, Edward, and I learned of Simon’s scheme, we offered to take her in. We suggested renting out her flat to save for the trip, and she agreed. We moved her in with us, and she found tenants. When Simon and Rebecca found out, they erupted. They acted as though the flat was theirs by right, demanding every penny of the rent. Simon accused Edward of “poisoning Granny’s mind” to steal her inheritance. The audacity was staggering.
Rebecca started dropping by—sometimes alone, sometimes with the kids—probing for news about Margaret’s health, as if willing her to decline. Simon clung to the hope the flat would soon be his. But Margaret wasn’t having it. She saved enough for Japan and went, returning glowing with stories of cherry blossoms and ancient temples. We then proposed she sell the flat, buy a cosy studio, keep travelling, and eventually settle with us in peace. After some thought, she agreed.
She sold her spacious three-bedroom flat in Woodchester, bought a snug one-bedroom, and set off again—this time to Italy, Germany, and Switzerland. Fate had a surprise in store: in Switzerland, she met a man named Heinrich and married him. Edward and I flew out for the wedding. Seeing a 78-year-old bride radiant with love was nothing short of magic. She’d earned this—after a lifetime of hard work, raising children and supporting grandchildren.
Simon, upon hearing the news, exploded. He demanded Margaret hand over the new flat—as if his family of five could even fit. But by then, we’d stopped caring. We were too busy cheering for Margaret, who was finally living for herself. Her story spread through Woodchester, sparking admiration in some, envy in others.
Now, Margaret and Heinrich split their time between Switzerland and England. She sends us postcards from her travels and laughs, remembering how Simon waited for her to die. This mess showed how greed can unravel family bonds, but also how courage—choosing your own happiness—defies even the ugliest schemes. Margaret taught us all something: it’s never too late to choose joy, no matter who stands in your way.
