When Family Comes Knocking: A Tale of Inheritance That Won’t Be Split Three Ways
Oliver walked into the room where his wife, Emily, was binge-watching her favourite show. He cleared his throat and said, rather cautiously,
“My brother rang. He and Lucy want to come over Saturday. They’ve got something to discuss.”
“Lovely! You know I’m always happy to have guests,” Emily smiled.
“Thing is, he mentioned it’ll be a serious chat,” Oliver added, giving her a wary look. “Just the two of us—no spouses.”
“Any idea what it’s about?” Emily tensed up.
Oliver paused, stared at the floor… and then it hit him. The inheritance.
Two months ago, Oliver and Emily had officially become the proud owners of Aunt Mabel’s estate. She’d been their mother’s older sister—a fierce, independent woman who’d never married or had children. When her health began to fail, she’d called on her nephews for help. Only Oliver and Emily had stepped up—taking her to doctor’s appointments, stocking her fridge, paying for carers, even arranging a seaside convalescence. The rest of the family? A birthday card now and then, if that.
No surprise, then, that Aunt Mabel left everything to them: a cosy two-bed flat in the city centre and a quaint little cottage on the outskirts.
Saturday arrived. Lucy and Adam showed up right on time, all business, no pleasantries. They sat stiffly in the lounge and got straight to the point.
“Fine, you got the flat. But the cottage? That’s just greedy,” Adam started.
“We looked after it!” Lucy chimed in. “Mowed the lawn, watered the flowers. My kids spent every summer there.”
“Did you ever take Aunt Mabel out there, though?” Emily asked calmly. “Even once? She begged you to take her for some fresh air…”
“Well, we had our hands full. The kids, work…” Lucy muttered.
“Exactly. So Aunt Mabel made her own arrangements,” Oliver said quietly.
“You just sweet-talked her!” Adam snapped. “What kind of man hoards everything from his own family?”
“And what kind of man fights over a crumbling shack?” Oliver shot back, cool but firm.
Their guests left in a huff. But the next morning, the phone rang.
“Oliver, did you change the locks on the cottage?” Adam yelled. “Me and Dave drove over to collect our things, and we’re locked out!”
“I did. Because you didn’t call ahead. Come back next Saturday—we’ll clear it out. Take what’s yours,” Oliver said, then hung up.
“You called it,” he remarked, turning to Emily.
“You *didn’t* see this coming?” She raised an eyebrow. “If you hadn’t changed those locks, they’d have stripped the place bare. Trust me.”
A month later, they sold both the cottage and their own cramped terrace house. With the money, they bought a spacious flat by the sea in Brighton—quiet neighbourhood, good schools, work sorted in no time. Oliver landed a job at the docks; Emily picked up teaching at a primary school.
Their daughter, Charlotte, stayed in Aunt Mabel’s flat while she finished uni.
Life seemed settled. Until March, when the phone started ringing off the hook.
“Since the cottage is gone, we’re all coming to yours,” Lucy announced. “First week of July. And we’re bringing little Tommy, too!”
“Best book a hotel,” Oliver replied smoothly. “We live here—we’re not a holiday resort. And we’re not hosting.”
“But your in-laws stayed with you last September!” Lucy spluttered.
“Because they’re my wife’s *parents*. Ours would’ve been welcome too, if they were still around. But we’ve no room for your lot.”
“You’re selfish!” she spat. “Just remember, *brother*, if you ever need help—don’t come crying to family!”
“Funny, this past year’s brought out more ‘family’ than a bank holiday car boot sale. And oddly enough, they only remember us between May and September. So don’t worry—we’ve got plenty of ‘family’ to go around,” Oliver said dryly.
Then he hung up.
