Six months ago, our family was struck by a tragic event: my father passed away.
A little while after the funeral, my fathers brother, Uncle Edward, decided to drop by for a visit. He rarely ever came to see us, and he had kept minimal contact with my dad. They never had any major arguments, but their relationship was always distant and lukewarm. Both of them simply kept out of each others worlds.
How was your journey? I asked. And why are you calling me by my first name? Because Im your favourite uncle! Uncle Edward replied, flashing a sweet grin as though he genuinely believed it.
He hadnt mentioned hed be coming, so we were totally unprepared for his arrival. In fact, neither Mum nor I had spoken with Edward since the funeral. He hadnt even rung us once. And then, suddenly, he was here.
Once wed settled down with a pot of tea, Uncle Edward came out with, How are we splitting the inheritance then? Us three? Theres no one else? Inheritance? Mum said, caught off guard after shed gathered herself.
In truth, there was an inheritance. We owned a lovely flat in London, a spacious country house out in the Cotswolds, and two cars. Mum tried to convince me we should sell the house and buy a flat in the city where Im studying at university. But I wasnt eager to rush into anything; we agreed to take our time.
What inheritance? The estate my brother left behind, of course! he replied. You know, Martha and I could have easily missed out, and you would have received everything. So, as such, you dont really have the full claim! But Im his brother! I have a right to inheritance! No, you dont actually! The law sides with us! And if its not fair?
Uncle Edward is rather clever: he was fully aware that, legally, he stood to gain nothing, so he tried to guilt us into agreeing. But we saw no sense in his behaviour or arguments. Dad and Edward had never been close, so Uncle Edward had nothing to do with Dads property.
When Dad fell ill, he made it clear from the start that everything would go to Mum and me. Dad had no desire to share his estate with anyone else.
With a clear conscience, Edward, not even with you! And you know it! You were never close to your brother! Thats right! Its like a bad film. A man marries, the wife gets the lot. Parents, siblings, nieces and nephewsnothing for them!
Uncle Edward launched his guilt trip. He pressured us to split up the property between the three of us. Goodbye! We wont discuss this with you any further! Mum said firmly.
After Edward left, Mum and I locked up the house and headed back to our flat in the city. We knew Edward well enough to predict he wouldnt let this go easily. It was, after all, a lot at stake a third of a stately country house, a third of a lovely flat in central London, and a third of two cars. Thats a considerable sum in British pounds.
Uncle Edward took us to court. He hopes to win. But the law is on our side. What exactly does he expect to achieve?
