Walking down the high street, I happened to spot my daughter and grandson in worn-out clothes, begging for change. Sweetheart, wheres the house and the money I gave you?
Her husband and mother-in-law took the lot and tipped her out on the pavement with the child. What I did to set them straight left everyone reeling in shock
It was a chance encounter. I was crawling through town, stuck at the lights on Oxford Road, just wanting to get home from the doctors without talking to a soul. Head pounding, brain fried.
Then, as I idly stared out the window, I noticed a woman weaving through the traffic, baby pressed tight to her chest, hand out for coins. Just another forgotten scene people walk past these every day.
But then I felt this icy chill run through me. That was my daughter.
At first I thought, no, surely not. Thin face, wild hair, bare feet, her child tottering in a carrier and her eyes. Ashamed, scared, as if she was desperate I wouldnt recognise her.
I rolled down my window.
Sweetheart
She flinched, threw her hand over her face and whispered, Dad, please just drive on.
But I was already out of the car.
Get in. Now.
The motorists behind started tooting, but I couldnt have cared less. All I could see was her, and my little grandson, beet-red from the heat and sobbing.
We drove off. I cranked up the air con. After a minutes silence, my patience snapped.
Wheres the flat? Wheres the car we gave you? What happened to the money Ive been sending every month? How on earth are you on the streets? Wheres your husband?
She was silent. Then silent tears began to trickle down her cheek.
Walking down the high street, I happened to spot my daughter and grandson in worn-out clothes, begging for change. Sweetheart, wheres the house and the money I gave you?
They took everything my husband and his mother. Took the flat, the car, the cash. Just threw us out. Said if I kicked up a fuss theyd take my son.
I pulled over and looked at her. She hunched up, bracing for a telling-off, probably expecting: I did warn you, didnt I?
Instead, I took her hand. It was icy cold, far too light.
Dont cry, love. I know exactly what to do with the likes of them.
What I did next made everyones hair stand on end. Read on below
I didnt take my daughter home. I drove straight to the police station.
She panicked.
Dad, no, dont They said youd never prove a thing.
I looked at her and said, calm as you like,
We will prove it. Because that house is still mine.
Off we went, police in tow. Back to the very flat I once put in my daughters name. The one theyd tossed her out of with only her baby in arms.
Her husband opened the door. The colour drained from his face and, right on cue, his mother started shrieking it was their property, all above board, shes family, shes entitled.
I quietly fished out the paperwork.
Walking down the high street, I happened to spot my daughter and grandson in worn-out clothes, begging for change. Sweetheart, wheres the house and the money I gave you?
These people are squatting in my flat. The money I sent my daughter was stolen, and the car in her name was taken by force.
You could have heard a pin drop.
A few questions from the bobbies, then a few more. Ten minutes later, my son-in-law was in cuffs. His mother was screeching, clawing at the wallpaper, claiming shed done nothing wrong but off she went too.
They arrested the pair right then and there.
They returned the flat, the car, and the money to my daughter. All official, all signed and sealed.
I looked at her. She was holding her son close and for the first time in ages, she smiled.
And I wasnt done yet. Through my friends, I made sure the case stayed open. No brushing it under the just a family squabble carpet: threats, theft, and tossing a young mother and child onto the street is a crime.
Ill see to it they get proper jail time.
