Oh, you think *you’ve* got problems, sis? This isnt even your flat to begin with.
My mums sister never had kids, but she did have a gorgeous three-bedroom place right in the heart of Londonand some serious health issues. Her husband was a collector, so my aunts place looked more like a museum than a home.
My younger sister, Lucy, has a lazy husband and two kids. Theyve been crammed into a tiny rented room in a dodgy student halls. The second Lucy heard about our aunts health problems, she rushed over to moan about her own miserable life.
Now, let me be clearour aunt is *not* a pleasant woman. She doesnt mince words and has no problem putting someone in their place. For years, shed invite me and my husband over (basically hinting we should move in) and kept promising shed leave us the flat.
We already had our own place, so we turned down her “generous offer.” Still, we drop off groceries and meds now and then, and I help tidy up. Not because were after her square footagejust out of duty. But Lucy? Oh, within days of that visit, she and her whole family had *moved in*.
Lucy and I never got along. Shes always been jealousIve got a hardworking, loving husband, a brilliant son, a good job, decent pay, and my own home. The only time she ever called me was to borrow money.
And shes got the memory of a goldfishnever paid a penny back. After I got pregnant again, I didnt have time for Auntie, though my husband still brought her little care packages now and then. When my baby was six months old, I finally went to see her. The second I reached the door, I heard screamingLucys voice, shrieking:
*”Until you sign that deed over, youre not getting a scrap of food! Crawl back inside, and dont even think about leaving the doghouse tonight!”*
I rang the bell. When Lucy saw me, she blocked the doorway, sneering: *”Dont even dream about coming inthis flats* mine *now!”*
She only let me in after I threatened to call the police. My aunt looked *awful*aged ten years since Id last seen her. The second she spotted me, tears rolled down her face.
*”Why are you crying? Go on, tell her how *wonderful* weve been treating you! And lookshe couldnt even bother bringing the baby!”* Lucy snapped.
Aunties room was stripped barejust a bed left. Theyd even taken the wardrobe, her things piled on the floor. All the collectibles were gone, and she wasnt wearing her fancy jewellery anymore. It hit meLucy and her husband were just sitting around, living off whatever they could sell from Aunties flat.
I excused myself to the loo and texted my husband: *”We need to get Auntie out. Now.”* Back in her room, I chatted about my year, making small talk. When I mentioned the baby, I squeezed her hand and whispered, *”Just hold on a little longer,”* giving her a knowing look. She understoodher eyes flooded with relief.
Lucy kept trying to shove me out, and her useless husband kept popping in, saying, *”Shouldnt you get back to your kid?”*
Exactly an hour later, my husband showed upwith a bobby in tow. Lucy *dragged* her feet opening the door. I just smiled: *”Oh, thats just my husband, here to pick me up.”*
The copper? Yeah, that was a *nasty* surprise for Lucy and her layabout husband. I brought him straight to Auntie and said, *”See for yourselfthis is the victim. I heard them starving her. Theyve sold everythingfurniture, gold, the lot. Her late husband collected antiques; this place was full of valuables.”*
While Lucy wailed, the officer asked Auntie, *”Do you want to press charges?”*
Lucy got off light, but her husband did two years inside. Mum took Lucy and the kids ineven though shed kicked her out years ago. And Mum? She *blamed me* for involving the police, swore Id never inherit a thing. Jokes on herAuntie left me the flat as thanks for saving her.
Now, we visit her like before, and weve even hired a carer. I cant *imagine* what she went through with Lucy.
