**The Inheritance**
The old, spacious flat buzzed with unusual activity. The doorbell jangled again, and another relative stepped inside. This time, it was a burly man in an expensive suit, the jacket straining over his protruding stomach.
A pale, plain woman gave him a sour smile, while another man rose from the sofa to greet him.
“Albert! Didn’t think you’d come,” the man said, shaking his hand. “Sit down, tell us how you’ve been.”
The woman shifted unhappily to the far end of the sofa, making room for the brothers.
*Is this really William’s wife? He had so many girls chasing him, and he married… this one?* Albert couldn’t find the right words.
The doorbell chimed once more. All three turned their heads. The last expected guest had arrived. In the doorway stood a tall man in black trousers and a navy-blue jumper, the crisp whiteness of his shirt beneath making him stand out.
Robert nodded curtly, scanned the room, and settled into a worn armchair in the opposite corner.
*Robert’s turned into quite the dandy,* Albert thought. He recognized him instantly, though they hadn’t seen each other in thirty years. Now all three brothers—the heirs—had gathered. Like vultures circling carrion. Albert had hoped no one else would come, especially not Robert.
Each had received an invitation to bid farewell to Aunt Margaret. “To say goodbye,” the telegram had read—just in case anyone had forgotten the address.
Albert lived comfortably now in another city—good job, nice house, two daughters, one already a grandmother. He didn’t need Aunt Margaret’s inheritance. He’d come out of curiosity.
When he was a boy, the flat had seemed enormous. He’d been afraid of the dark corners, the towering clock, the heavy furniture.
After their father fell from scaffolding at a construction site, their mother withered from grief. How could she raise three boys alone? William, the youngest, hadn’t even been five. Life had been hard. Then, one day, an uncle they’d never heard of arrived and offered to take the two older boys.
He and his wife had no children. Their mother would recover, he said, and come for them later. He gave her money and left with the boys. She drank herself to death not long after.
Aunt Margaret was stern and cold. She fed them, clothed them, tried to love them. Albert, ever the opportunist, saw his chance to climb in life. He ingratiated himself with his uncle and aunt.
Robert, however, had been withdrawn, refusing to bond with their new family. After school, he hadn’t gone to university like Albert. He’d returned to his hometown, to their parents’ flat, worked odd jobs, studied remotely. Their uncle had sent money at first, but Robert always returned it with a note: *I don’t need your help.*
Albert had married in his final year of university and moved to his wife’s family in London. William had grown into a reckless sort—the black sheep of the family.
*The flat needs renovating. Could sell for a fortune. And the furniture—solid, antique. The Bohemian crystal in the cabinet. And there must be savings. Unless they were wiped out in the nineties…* Albert caught himself. Not the time for daydreams.
He kept glancing at Robert, who sat impassive, legs crossed. William whispered with his wife, eyeing his brothers. *Robert was always the outsider, out of favor with their uncle and aunt. William will squander his share.* Albert was certain he deserved the most.
A pretty young woman had let them in—likely Aunt Margaret’s carer. Just as Albert thought this, a wheelchair rolled into the room. In it sat an old woman, her head bowed, legs covered in a thick blanket.
The girl positioned the chair so the old woman could see everyone. Against her frailty, the girl looked even lovelier. The brothers were stunned.
Albert tried to calculate her age. Surely over eighty. Why had he assumed she was dead? The telegram had said “to bid farewell,” not that she’d passed.
He studied her—wrinkled face dotted with dark patches, wiry grey hair sticking out, gnarled hands resting on the armrests. The proud, elegant woman he remembered was gone. Time had been merciless.
“Margaret is happy to see you all,” the girl said brightly.
“At her request, I found you and invited you here. Sorry if the telegram was unclear. She wanted to see you, settle the inheritance to avoid disputes later.”
“So our wishes will be considered?” Albert perked up.
“Not exactly. Let’s have tea. Could you help?” she asked William’s wife.
“And who are you?” Albert cut in.
“This is Emily, my granddaughter,” Aunt Margaret rasped suddenly.
Albert gaped at her, then at Robert. He sat unmoved. William fidgeted.
*William’s daughter? Another heir. Bad timing. We’ll need proof of relation.*
Once alone, the old woman spoke again.
“Thank you for coming,” she croaked. “Thought I was dead, didn’t you? Not here for me—for the inheritance. Well, you’ll each get what you deserve. Just don’t quarrel over my grave if the will displeases you.”
“Is there anything worth quarreling over?” Albert asked.
“You’ve changed. Robert, I’m glad you came, though you never liked me. William, still the same rogue.”
She sagged again, eyes closing. Albert thought she’d dozed off. The brothers exchanged glances.
Soon, Emily called them for tea. William bolted to the kitchen. Robert and Albert stayed put.
“You never made peace?” Aunt Margaret asked suddenly.
“Never quite managed,” Albert answered for both.
“You’ve grown fat—that jacket’s about to burst. Living well. Why didn’t you bring your wife?”
“Too busy—she’s a headmistress,” Albert boasted. “Two daughters, both married. One’s already given me a grandchild.”
“Brothers should stick together. You’re all I have left. And Emily. The flat goes to her. Don’t look at me like that, Albert. She’s cared for me ten years. Thanks to her, I’m still alive. You never sent a card, never visited. I tried to be a mother to you. Failed with Robert, but you, Albert? Why?”
Albert fumbled for an answer.
“There’s the country house. Solid, plenty of land. Remember how you loved it, Robert? And the vintage ’78 Mercedes in the garage. Rare now. Still runs.”
“I’ll be fair,” the old woman grinned, showing yellowed but intact teeth. Albert shivered. *She’s tough. Still has her own teeth. Witch.*
“Emily!” she called. The girl appeared instantly.
“Tired. Take me to bed.”
Albert noticed then—the lights were on, but outside was dark. The grandfather clock showed nearly ten. It felt like mere hours since he’d arrived. Time had slipped away.
Emily wheeled her out.
“I thought she was dead. Came to say goodbye, and she’s alive,” Albert muttered.
Robert said nothing.
“Well, if she’s announced the will, she’ll die soon, right?” Albert joked. Robert didn’t smile.
Emily assigned them rooms. William left for a hotel.
Albert couldn’t sleep. The flat creaked. He rose twice, checking the hallway. Empty. Drafts whispered.
Dawn came before he drifted off. He woke late to silence. No footsteps, no sighs. *Nerves. Shouldn’t have come.* He groaned, dressed in yesterday’s shirt.
The kitchen was set for breakfast. Coffee hot. His stomach growled.
*Did Emily do this? She’s not bad. Too young for me. And married…* He sighed, ate.
The doorbell rang. A short, plump doctor in a white coat entered, Emily behind him.
“Is Margaret alright?” Albert asked. Ignored.
He followed, but Emily blocked him.
“You can’t go in.” The door shut in his face.
William’s room was empty.
The doctor left. “She passed last night,” he said.
“But—why?”
“Old age.”
“Grandmother didn’t want the morgue. Dr. Hughes will handle everything. Funeral’s tomorrow,” Emily said, eyes red.
“You mean she’ll stay here? That’s—” Albert nearly screeched.
“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll book you a hotel room.”
“Please do. I won’t stay another minute.”
“But don’t leave town. The will’s to be read after.”
Albert waved her off.
At the cemetery, he felt no grief. William and his wife watched with detached curiosity. To Albert’s shock, Robert wept.
Back at the flat, the wake was ready. Two women fussed in the kitchen.
William, drunk, boasted they’d washed and dressed the body yesterday. Albert grimaced. *And now they’ve cooked for us?* He avoided the food.
At the solicitor’s, the will was read. The flat went to Emily. Albert could take any*The Mercedes, the jewels, the antique bureau—all his—yet as Albert rode the train home, staring at the blur of countryside, he realized no inheritance could fill the hollow space where family should have been.*
