“Leave her here, let her die!” they muttered, dumping the elderly woman into the snowdrift. The fools didnt realise the boomerang would soon come swinging back.
Margaret Whitmore walked towards her block of flats. The elderly ladies on the bench were gossiping about the sleek car recently parked nearby.
“Who does that belong to?” Margaret asked.
“No idea!” one of them replied. “Probably belongs to Mary. Fancy cars like that dont visit folks like us.”
“Only ambulances come round here!” another quipped.
The neighbours carried on, chatting about council decisions and local scandals. Then Mary herself stepped outthe one who owned the expensive car. She walked off without a glance at the neighbours or the vehicle parked on the lawn. Margaret hurried inside.
“Margaret Whitmore?” a man said, spotting her in the stairwell. “Remember me? We spoke a few days ago. Im your nephew.”
“Oh, Edward!” Margaret exclaimed in recognition. “Why didnt you tell me you were coming? Is that your car parked on the grass?”
“Yes, mine.”
“Well, go move it before someone complains! What were you thinking, parking on my flowerbed?”
Her nephew hurried out, while Margaret went to put the kettle on. She needed to sell the flatno way was she leaving the neighbours to ruin her patch of green.
A while back, her uncle used to visit with his son. Later, the family drifted apart. And now, here the young man was! Something about him made Margaret uneasy. He smoked too much. Young, but his teeth were already stained. Still, at least hed come. She didnt fancy hiring an estate agent to sell the flat. Better to let her nephew handle it. But he refused any payment.
Margaret had lost her husband and children years ago. Now, she longed to move closer to nature. Country air had to be better than climbing four flights of stairs every day. There was even a village nursery nearby. While she still had the energy, she fancied growing her own vegetables. By autumn, a buyer appeared for the flat.
“Winters almost here. Lets wait till spring to sell,” Margaret decided, postponing the move.
“But house prices will rise by then!” Edward argued. “Its easier to check the heating in cold weather. Besides, weve got a buyer now. What if they back out?”
“You havent even found me a house yet! Where will I live? Find one first, then well sell,” Margaret sighed.
Edward relented.
Soon enough, her nephew lined up a few suitable cottages. After viewing them, Margaret felt a pang of disappointment. Each needed repairs. Still, the money from the flat would cover a new home and renovations.
Edward knew a thing or two about building work and promised to help with quotes for materials and labour.
The cold gnawed at Margaret.
“Winters coming. I dont want the hassle of renovations. I just want to move in and live like a normal person.”
“Ill help you!” Edward insisted.
Something bothered Margarethow eager he was to sell the flat and buy her any old cottage. Still, she reasoned he wouldnt profit from it. Unpleasant as it was, she was grateful hed agreed to help at all.
Once shed picked a place, she set the sale date.
The buyer and solicitor arrived on time. Edward made tea for everyone. Margaret felt a pangthis was her home. A lifetime of memories. But no turning back now. Boxes were packed, the deal done.
“Right then. Time to move to your new place!” Edward announced after the papers were signed.
“Wait, now? I havent even unpacked the china yet,” Margaret protested, but Edward insistedthe buyer needed the flat tonight!
“Fine, if it has to be today,” she conceded. “Just let me grab my dishes.”
Soon, they were rattling along in a van. Margaret yawned, then dozed off. Her consciousness flickeredshe glimpsed the road through the window, caught snippets of conversation between the men.
“Margaret, can you hear me?” Edwards voice sounded distant. She couldnt muster a reply.
“Leave her here,” she heard later, surfacing briefly. Everything felt foggy. They dumped her in the snow.
“Shell freeze to death,” Edward added.
It dawned on herher nephew had tricked her. He must have slipped something into her tea to knock her out, force the sale. Eyes closing, she braced for the end.
Meanwhile, a young woman driving past spotted the parked van and slowed, suspecting engine trouble. Then she saw the men hauling something towards the woods. Heavy snow fell. Why would anyone unload in this weather? Something wasnt right.
Parking further ahead, she waited in the dark, jotting down the licence plate. Once the strangers drove off, she rushed to where theyd been. Finding the old woman, she checked for a pulse. Alivebut unconscious. She called her husband at once.
When he arrived, they bundled Margaret into their car. She stirred on the way.
“Where am I?” she mumbled.
“We found you,” the woman, Emily, replied. “Do you remember how you ended up in the snow?”
“Yes… My nephew and I sold my flat. We had tea. He must have drugged me! Then they drove me out and dumped me. He got rid of me!”
“Lets get you warmed up,” Emily said, rubbing cream onto her chilled hands.
“Kind of you,” Margaret smiled weakly. “Id have died out there.”
Later, Emilys family helped Margaret report the crime. An investigation began.
The young woman offered Margaret a temporary home. “However this ends, youll need a roof over your head until you get your flat back.”
Two weeks later, the property was returned to her. Edward and his accomplice were jailed for fraud. Come spring, as planned, Margaret sold the flat and bought a cottage in the country. No repairs neededjust a garden to tend. That summer, she invited Emily and her husband for tea. Shed never forget their kindness.
