Half a year ago our family was struck by a great loss: my father passed away. And then, six months later, my father’s brother, Uncle Peter, paid us a visit. He rarely came by before. Hed never been particularly close with Dad either. There were no arguments, but their relationship remained rather distant. Each kept to his own path.
How was your journey? I asked him. And why are you addressing me so formally? Surely Im your favourite uncle! Uncle Peter replied, flashing a smile as though he truly believed it.
Uncle Peter hadnt told us he was coming, so we werent prepared for his visit. In fact, we hadnt spoken since my fathers funeral. He hadnt even called. And out of nowhere, he appeared on our doorstep.
As we sat around the kitchen table, sipping tea, Uncle Peter asked, So, how are we dividing the inheritance? Between the three of us, right? Theres no one else involved? Mum was caught off guard. Inheritance? What do you mean? she stammered after regaining composure.
There was indeed an inheritance: a comfortable flat, a spacious cottage in the countryside, and two cars. Mum had tried to persuade me to sell the house and buy a flat for me in London, where I was studying, but for now wed chosen not to hurry and let things settle.
What inheritance? You mean the property my brother owned! Uncle Peter declared. Well, you know, if it wasnt for Emily and me, youd inherit everything. So this means I should get a share! Mum replied, But youre his brother! That doesnt entitle you to anything! He protested, Why not? I am family! Surely the law favours me. Mum retorted, No, it doesnt! We are legally in the right! But what about fairness? he insisted.
Uncle Peter is sharp; he knew full well the law didnt grant him any claim, so he tried appealing to our sense of morality. Yet, we couldnt understand his reasoning. Dad and Uncle Peter had never been close, so it was odd he thought he should inherit part of Dads estate.
When Dad became ill, he made it clear that everything should go to Mum and me, nobody else. He didnt want to share our home with anyone outside our immediate family.
Uncle Peter, in all honesty, youre not entitled to anything. You were never close with Dad, Mum said firmly. Thats just how it is! Like one of those miserable films a bloke gets married and his wife takes everything, leaving nothing for parents, siblings, or nephews!
Uncle Peter kept pressing, intent on making us feel remorse and agree to divide Dads property between the three of us. Mum eventually said, Thats enough! We wont discuss this any longer.
Once Uncle Peter had left, Mum and I locked up the house and returned to our city flat, well aware he wouldnt give up easily. We expected hed take legal action. After all, were talking about considerable sums: a third of a fancy cottage, a third of a central London flat, and a third of two cars quite a bit of money.
Uncle Peter thought so as well and, as predicted, filed a claim against us. Hes hoping he can win in court, but the law is on our side. I cant fathom what he expects to gain.
Reflecting on all this, Ive come to realise that families are more complicated than they seem. Even when things appear settled, some people will do anything for money. Ive learned to trust Dads judgement and stand up for whats right no matter whos on the other side.
