So, let me tell you whats happened recentlyyou know, just catching up like we do. My husband, Richard, and I ended up leaving the city flat to our son Oliver, and moved out to the countryside. Oliver decided to move in with his in-laws and rent out our old place instead.
Richard and I got married when I was 23, and to be honest, I was already pregnant with Oliver at our wedding. Both of us had just finished universitywe studied education at Exeter. My familys never had much money, not a wealthy dad or generous uncle in sight, so everything weve achieved has been through sheer hard work.
We both went straight into teaching. I had to go back to work when Oliver was tiny. For whatever reasonstress, a bit of a plain diet, who knowsI hardly managed to breastfeed, so he was on formula early on. When he was only 11 months old, we put him into nursery. Thats where he learned to eat with a spoon, use the potty, and sleep on his own, while Richard and I worked long hours.
We started out renting, then managed to buy a humble one-bed flat. Bit by bit (with lots of saving), we worked our way up to a two-bedroom. But being from the countryside, we always craved fresh air and some land, so a few years ago we bought a little plot not far from Somerset. Richard, bless him, built a little two-bedroom brick cottage by hand. We put in a cooker, sorted out the garden, got some sturdy furniturejust the basics, really.
For the first time in decades, life was finally simple and good. We were 46, finally living for ourselves after all those years. Then, wouldnt you know it, Oliver, at 23, announced he wanted to marry Lilyhis girlfriend from university. She comes from quite a well-off family, and theyd both gone through law school together. The wedding plans beganoh, you can just imagine!
Suddenly, it was all: We want a fancy London venue, a limousine, a proper honeymoon, and our own flat, please. You know how it is. With Oliver, Ive always felt a bit of guilt, like I never gave enough attention while he was growing uppushed him into nursery, into school early, always swept up in teaching other peoples kids. He spent so much time on his own, since Richards and my parents lived far away. We tried (probably too hard) to make it up to him with thingsnice toys, a comfy armchair, brand-name clothes, good education, even helped him buy a car when he turned 18.
Now, with the wedding coming up, we decided to support him however we could. All our savings went into the wedding. After talking it over, we offered Oliver our city flat as a gift. We just didnt want him to struggle like we had to. Lilys parents chipped in toospent a fortune on her: furs, jewellery, you name it. Theyve got a huge country house, three floors of it, all decked out in proper luxuryposh cars in the drive as well.
Slowly, Oliver started drifting away from us. Over time, wed only see him perhaps once a month, if that, and phone calls stopped altogether. His father-in-law landed him a job at some company. And then, by pure chance, Richard and I bumped into a neighbour at the market who let slip that Oliver and Lily hadnt lived in our flat for agesthey’d moved in with her parents, and our flat was being let out.
Richard was really crushed. Tried to keep him calm, but you know how it is. I rang Oliver straight away, and he just snappedsaid wed given him the flat, and that we never had any money anyway. He yelled that hed always been treated the worst, and accused us of spoiling him and Lily so theyd have a better life than we ever had, as if somehow that was a bad thing. He confessed he was embarrassed about living off his in-laws, while his own parents were just ordinary teachers.
Richard and I could barely believe the injustice of it all. We went to see a solicitor, who told us that since wed never made the flat officially his on paper, Oliver didnt actually have the right to rent it out. Legally, it still belonged to us.
We didnt want to drag things through court, so we let the tenants stay until the end of the month, explained everything, and they were genuinely understanding packed up and moved on without a fuss. Then we moved back in ourselves. But now, we still havent heard a word from Oliver. Richards still heartbrokenso am I, honestly. Maybe, with time, well patch things up. Who knows? Families, eh?
