Injustice
“Mother,” I remember asking with disbelief, “Why did I only get three hundred and thirty thousand? Wheres the rest of it? I was expecting a million pounds
The sound of her hair dryer hummed in the background. She turned it off and called back to me, Yes, thats correct. Three hundred and thirty. Thats the sum.
But I was supposed to receive far more.
“Three hundred and thirty? Wheres the other six hundred and seventy? I was told Id get nearly a million. That was Fathers moneyyou said youd send it to me after selling the flat.”
Oh, Emily, must you start quibbling about the accounts? she replied, trying to sound weary but indignant. You know I handled everything properly.
Properly? I gave you power of attorney to sell my flatthe flat I inherited from Dad. I asked for the money to be sent to me. And where has it ended up?
Looking back, I should have never let my guard down.
I did send it to you! she insisted, the hair dryer roaring again. But I acted as a good mother should. I split the estate amongst all the children. Fairly. Your rightful third is now yours.
My rightful all should have been mine.
You divided my fathers inheritance amongst the three of us? Me and them? I meant my stepbrothers, John and Oliver. Mum, that was Dads money. My Dad. They arent his sons.
What difference does it make whose child they are? Now she was brushing out her hair. The money belongs to the family, and theyre your brothers. As your mother, am I expected to watch you squander such a fortune while the boys look on in jealousy? No, I made it fair. Everyone got a share.
If only I could return to the day I signed those papers and shake myself out of such stupidity.
Fair? You split my million three waysthree hundred and thirty thousand each. What about the rest? The flat was actually sold for a bit more.
That little bit extra, after all the deductions and fees, I rounded off, she said, quite dismissively. The rest I kept, for all the running about and the paperwork. You wouldnt have managed all that red tape yourself, would you? I sorted it all whilst you were away working.
As if you broke your back over it? I replied.
Dont you dare speak to me like that! she snapped. Your father may have been your father, but I am your mother, and I make the decisions. And youre grown up nowthe eldest! You need less than the boys. They have families to start. Youre a girl, you dont require much.
“And am I not allowed a family of my own? Or should I live like a church mouse, just because Im a girl and you think I dont need much?” I asked sharply. “Send me the balance, Mum. Right now.”
No.
Blunt. Final.
She knew Id do nothing. Take your own mother to court over money? Whod understand that, let alone support you? And besides, shes still my mother, and at least we kept in touch.
A few weeks later, after sorting my finances and calming down, I saw photos on social media: John was grinning by a shiny blue Polo, Oliver posted, My new beauty! Theyd both bought themselves modest cars. Well, then.
I tucked my £330,000 away and decided to wait. Patience, Gran always said, is golden.
A year passed. I worked, saved, planned. The injustice faded, though it stayed lodged in my memory. Mum acted as if nothing had happenedcalling, chattering away, telling her little stories.
But then she phoned one day, grave and shaky, the sort of tone that prickles your skin.
I braced myself. What is it, Mum?
Your brothers grandmother her voice broke, She died this morning.
I felt oddly detached. She wasnt my grandmother, after all. Shed played no part in my life. Just Mums mother-in-law, the boys granny. I felt a polite sort of sorrow.
Oh Im sorry for your loss.
Theres so much to sort outarrangements, paperworkIm on my own, the boys dont know what to do. Will you come and help?
Not out of spite, but because I honestly couldnt: Mum, Im in work. I cant just drop everything for the funeral of someone I met maybe three times.
No, please! she pleaded. We really could use you.
I cant be there, but Ill send money. How much do you need? Just say, and Ill wire it straight away.
She nearly declined, but practicality won out. Well, I suppose it would help could you manage twenty thousand?
Of course. And Ill send a bit moreso you wont have to worry about the little things. Consider it my way of paying respect to their gran.
Thank you, Emily. You always come through.
I hung up with a grim satisfaction. I had an excuse: I didnt attend, but Id helped. Who could blame me now?
Half a year passed. The funeral was long behind us. John and Oliver, by all accounts, had new toysmotorbikes, perhaps, or shiny new gadgets.
Then, one quiet Tuesday in the work canteen, I decided it was time. I rang Mum.
Hello, Mum! How are things?
Oh Emily, were muddling along. Olivers found a better job, Johns got a girlfriend now.
Good news. Listen, I wanted to ask something
She tensed. About what?
Well, its been half a year since their grandmother passed. Has the inheritance been settled?
She was more evasive even than after the money was split.
What are you getting at, Emily? Yes, its all sorted.
Right. And wheres my share of the estate?
Which estate? Dont be ridiculous,” she tried to sound confused, but I could always tell when she was fibbing.
“Their grandmothers.”
“She wasn’t your granny.
“And? Does it matter?” I pressed, echoing her logic, “You said all your children should be treated the same. You split my fathers legacy for equalitys sake.
Emily, thats different! Entirely different!
How exactly is it different? When it was my fathers money, you said family meant sharing, that fairness came first.”
Dont twist my words, Emily
How convenient the rules change! My inheritance had to be divided, yet their grandmothers estate is sacredly for them, just because we have different fathers?
Dont be so petty! she huffed. How can you even ask for that? Youre working, youre young, you dont need it. The boys need to think of buying homestheyre men, its harder for them!
So your view is: my fathers legacy was for everyone, because were siblings. But their grans money is only for thembecause theyre men, and Im just a girl who shouldnt want much?
Mind your tongue, she muttered. Where did you get such greed?
She would never admit she was wrong. In her eyes, I was stingy for demanding what was right.
You may have forgotten, Mum, but with that power of attorney you were required to transfer the full sum to me for the flat. Theres still time to put things rightIm just saying, before its too late
Emily! Are you threatening me? she whispered, sounding frightened.
No, Mum. I just want what is mine. Think it over.
Only a month later, the money was transferred in full. She made quite sure to block me everywhere.
