You know, sometimes I look back and just feel quite overwhelmed by how quickly things can change in a family. So, a little while ago, my husband John and I decided to let our son Edward have our flat in London. Wed worked all our lives as teachers, and when we finally had a chance, we packed up and moved to the countrysidesomething wed been talking about for years.
I met John when I was at university, studying education. We got married at 23, and to be honest, I was already pregnant at the wedding. Neither of us came from a wealthy background; there was no trust fund or wealthy uncle to bail us out. Everything we own, weve earned by grafting.
I went back to work not long after Edward was born. Maybe it was the stress or just that I was young and inexperienced, but I couldnt breastfeed, so he was on formula from the start. By the time he was nearly a year old, wed had to put him in nursery because John and I both had full-time jobs. Edward learned to feed himself, use the potty, and nap on his ownall before most kids even try. We didnt have time, really. But needs must.
We started off in a rented one-bed flat, then upgraded to a place with a separate bedroom, and eventually scraped enough together for a two-bedroom flat of our ownthe same one we eventually gave Edward. And since both of us are country folk at heart, a few years back we bought a little plot out in the Cotswolds. John, with his never-ending patience, built a little two-room cottage there, brick by brick. We got a stove fitted, landscaped the garden, splashed out on some new furniturethe works.
Those first months were just wonderful. For the first time in forever, we were living for ourselves. We were both 46 and felt like life was finally opening up again.
But of course, history has a funny way of repeating itself. Our son Edward, atwould you believe itthe very same age, 23, announced he was getting married. His fiancée, Rebecca, comes from a very well-off family. Both of them had just finished law at Kings College. Suddenly it was all about wedding venues, expensive restaurants, stretch limos, honeymoons abroad, and we need our own flatthat sort of thing.
Ive always felt a bit guilty, you know? That we didnt dote on Edward as we could have. He was at nursery early, started school just as early, and John and I were always busy with other peoples children. Its the teacher curse, isnt it? He spent a lot of time alone, really, and my parentshis grandparentslived so far away. We tried to make it up to him with gifts: the latest gadgets, nice clothes, paid for his studies, even bought him a car for his 18th birthday.
When he said he was getting married, John and I decided to put whatever we could towards their future. We paid a fortune for the weddinghonestly, every penny we managed to save vanished on that day. As a gift, we gave Edward our London flat, thinking hed have an easier time than we did. Rebeccas parents threw in even moredesigner clothes, jewellery, the lot. They have this huge country house, three floors, all top-tier everything.
Slowly but surely, Edward started drifting away. Hed visit maybe once a month, then barely ever, and he even stopped picking up the phone. Rebeccas father got him a job at a posh firm, and we barely heard from him.
Imagine our shock: one day at the farmers market, our old neighbour bumped into us and let slip that Edward and Rebecca hadnt lived in our flat for months. Turns out, theyd moved in with her mum in Surrey and were renting out our flat without even telling us. John looked like hed seen a ghost. I could feel my heart drop.
I rang Edward straightaway. He answered, but he was so cold, and honestlyquite rude. He told us wed given him the flat, so it was his business what he did with it. He said we never really gave him much support anyway, always busy with work, and that we were just schoolteachers with no real money. He almost shouted at me down the phone. He said living off his mother-in-law made him feel embarrassed, since we were just ordinary people.
John and I couldnt believe it. We thought, no, we cant let this go. So we went to see a solicitor in town, and she explained that, because wed never sorted any proper paperwork, Edward had no legal right to be renting out the place. The flat was still, technically, in our names. The law was on our side.
In the end, we decided not to go through the courts with it all. We gave the tenants a months notice. Thankfully, they were really understanding, and they moved out without a fuss. So John and I moved back into the flat. But now, Edwards cut off all contact. Neither of us has spoken to him since. Its heartbreaking, really. Maybe, in time, well patch things upbut right now were all still struggling to come to terms with it.
Funny how, after all those years of saving, working, and dreaming, everything can feel so uncertain. Guess we just have to wait and see if things settle down.
