**When Family Comes Knocking: A Tale of Inheritance That Won’t Be Shared Three Ways**
Oliver walked into the room where his wife was watching a show and said quietly,
“My brother just called. He and Theresa want to come over on Saturday. Said we need to talk.”
“Lovely! You know I’m always happy to see them,” Emily smiled.
“Thing is, he mentioned it’s something serious,” Oliver replied, eyeing her warily. “Just the two of us—no spouses.”
“Do you have any idea what it’s about?” Emily tensed.
Oliver hesitated, looked down… and then it hit him. The inheritance.
Two months ago, Oliver and Emily had officially become the sole beneficiaries. Aunt Lydia, their mother’s elder sister, had no children and lived her life as an independent woman. When her health declined, she called on her nephews for help. Only Oliver and Emily stepped up—arranging doctor visits, buying groceries, hiring a carer, even taking her to a seaside retreat. The rest of the family? A birthday card if they were lucky.
No surprise, then, that Aunt Lydia left everything to them: a two-bedroom flat in the city centre and a cosy cottage on the outskirts.
Saturday arrived. Theresa and Andrew showed up right on time. No smiles, no small talk. They sat in the lounge and got straight to it.
“Fine, the flat’s yours. But the cottage? That’s too much,” Andrew began.
“We took care of it!” Theresa added. “Mowed the lawn, watered the flowerbeds. Our kids spent every summer there.”
“Did you ever take Aunt Lydia out there, even once?” Emily asked calmly. “Did you ever do what she asked? She begged you to take her, just to get some fresh air—”
“We had our own lives. Kids, jobs…” Theresa muttered.
“Exactly. So she made her own decision,” Oliver said quietly.
“You manipulated her!” Andrew snapped. “What kind of man hoards everything from his own family?”
“And what kind of man fights over a rundown shack?” Oliver shot back, cool but firm.
They left in a huff. But the next morning, the phone rang.
“Oliver, did you change the locks on the cottage?” Andrew shouted. “We went to collect our things with Colin, and we can’t get in!”
“I did. Because you didn’t warn me. Come next Saturday—we’ll clear it out. Take what’s yours.” Oliver hung up.
“You knew, didn’t you?” he turned to Emily, surprised.
“Didn’t you know your own family? If you hadn’t changed those locks, they’d have taken the furniture too. No doubt.”
A month later, they sold both the cottage and their own three-bed. They bought a spacious flat by the sea—in Brighton. A quiet neighbourhood, a school nearby, and work came easy: Oliver found a job at the docks, Emily at the primary school.
Their daughter, Elizabeth, kept Aunt Lydia’s flat while studying at university.
Life seemed settled. But by March, the calls started flooding in.
“The cottage is gone,” Theresa said over the phone. “So we’re all coming to you. First week of July. And we’re bringing little Harry too!”
“Book a hotel,” Oliver replied evenly. “We live here—we’re not on holiday. And we’re not hosting.”
“Your in-laws stayed with you last September!” Theresa protested.
“Because they’re Emily’s parents. Ours would’ve been welcome too, if they were alive. But we’ve no room for your lot.”
“You selfish git!” she spat. “Remember this when you need help—and your family’s nowhere to be found!”
“This past year, we’ve had more ‘family’ pop up than mushrooms after rain. And only between May and September, funny that. Trust me, we’ve got plenty of ‘family’,” Oliver smirked.
Then he hung up.
