Granny woke up in a care home. Her daughter-in-law had arranged everything meticulouslyexcept for one tiny oversight.
It hit Ethel Wilson all at once. She blinked open her eyes to find herself in an unfamiliar room that reeked of antiseptic and bad decisions. Her head throbbed, her temples pulsed, and her memory had more gaps than a politicians promises. How had she ended up here? What had happened?
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried piecing together the events that had landed her in this place. Her flata modest but cosy two-bedroomfloated into her mind. It had been her late husbands from his factory days, and after he passed, shed lived there with her son, Nigel. For years, it was all warmth and tea and sensible arguments about the telly.
Then came Gemma.
The moment Nigel married her, the air thickened. Gemma took one look at the flat and declared it a time capsule from the Dark Ages. The furniture was museum-worthy, the curtains shouldve been buried with Thatcher. Every visit was a critique wrapped in a complaint.
Ethel bit her tonguemostly. Its my home, and I decide what stays. Dont like it? The doors that way.
Gemma took that as a challenge. The next day, she demanded Ethel get rid of her books. Its a dust factory in here! And might I remind you, were expecting a baby!
Ethel saw red. Those books arent just paper. If you want to breathe, try a duster. And keep your hands off my shelves. You can redecorate over my dead body.
The rows became routine. Soon, Nigel, worn down by the endless bickering, moved out with Gemma into a rented flatthough he still visited Ethel every Sunday. One day, he shuffled awkwardly and said, Mum, please try to get on with Gemma. Were struggling, and we need you.
I *am* trying. But I think she enjoys the drama, Ethel muttered.
Well sort it, Nigel said, though he clearly had no idea how.
Life took a turn when Ethel met Arthura widower with a kind smile and a fondness for crosswordsin the park. They talked for hours, easy as old friends. For the first time in ages, she felt light.
Later, over shepherds pie, she introduced him to Nigel and Gemma. This is Arthur. Hes moving in with me.
Arthur grinned. And you two can have my flat. Small, but rent-free.
Gemma exploded. Are you joking? Were crammed into a one-bed with a baby on the way, and youre playing house? Never! She stormed out. Nigel, beetroot-red, mumbled, Sorry hormones and scurried after her.
Ethel sat there, stunned.
The memory shattered with a sharp stab of pain. Where *was* she? How had she gotten here?
The door creaked open. A nurse in a crisp uniform checked her pulse without meeting her eyes.
Excuse me where am I? Whats happened? Ethel croaked.
You dont remember? The nurses tone was frostier than a British winter. You attacked an elderly woman. She nearly didnt make it. Youre lucky it didnt go worse.
Thats rubbish! Id never hurt anyone!
The nurse ignored her, jabbed a needle into her arm, and left.
Later, a woman with a warm face and sharp eyes slipped in. You must be Ethel. Im Margaret. Been here a while. This isnt a hospital. Its a care home. And most of us arent here because were illwere here because our families *made* us ill.
Ethels stomach dropped. But Ive got my flat, my pension. Nigel would never
We all had never once, Margaret said dryly. Yet here we are. Some suddenly have dementia. Others violent episodes. Easy to fake.
Im *not* ill!
Then think. Anything odd before this? Symptoms?
Ethel paused. Gemma *had* started bringing her more mealsespecially those delicious scones she couldnt resist. After eating them, shed felt foggy confused
Its *her.* Shes behind this. But Nigel Arthur theyd never allow it.
Margaret shook her head. Dont hold your breath. No calls, no letters. Were legally forgotten.
I wont accept this. Ill *escape.*
Not yet. See that nurse, Irene? Shes not just rudeshes dangerous.
Ethels blood ran cold, but she gripped Margarets hand. We *have* to get out.
Ive got an idea, Margaret whispered. Theres one kind nurseDaisy. She wants to help but doesnt know who to trust. No one here has outside contacts.
But *I* do! Ethels voice cracked with hope. Arthurhes ex-military. He wont abandon us.
The next evening, Daisy slipped them a mobile. Youve got minutes. *Hurry.*
Hands shaking, Ethel dialled. Arthurs voice crackled through: Ethel? Where *are* you?
No time. Come get us. *Please.*
Two hours later, sirens wailed outside. Ethel rushed to the window. Theyre here!
Police swarmed the building. Arthur burst in, crushing Ethel in a hug. Gemma lied. Said you were too ill for visitors. Nigel was away, and sheI *knew* something was off.
Ethel went home with Arthur. Margaret moved in temporarily. When Nigel returned and learned what Gemma had done, he was horrified.
The care home faced investigations. Gemma, now in custody, gave birth in a holding cellNigel took their son.
Later, Nigel divorced her. Arthur moved in properly, vowing no one would ever hurt Ethel again.
Sowas a two-bed flat really worth all this? Leave your thoughts below. And dont forget to smash that like button.
