For the past two months, my extended family has been calling me non-stop, asking me to care for my elderly grandmother — but she was a truly cruel woman, and now I’m torn: am I really obligated to look after her, especially if I want nothing to do with her or any inheritance?

Over the past couple of months, my extended family has been ringing me up. They keep asking me to look after my grandmother.

My gran was never a kind person, and in some ways, she was downright cruel.

My mum and dad split up when I was really littleI was too young to remember anything about my dad. We moved in with my gran when I was five years old, and she looked after me throughout my childhood.

Gran was a very challenging person to live with. Her main expectations were that I would be obedient and hardworking. I can’t recall a single happy memory of her.

When I hear people say they regret their childhoods, I’m reminded that I dont even want to think about mine. Theres nothing to look back at fondly. My mum didnt help either. There was nowhere for me to runlife in England during the 90s was just that way. I could only dream of having money or a job. I had to be content with what we had. Gran made sure both my mum and I followed her orders, so everything ran according to her wishes.

Thats how we lived. Publicly, of course, we pretended everything was fine.

When I was in year six at school, my mums life improved. She met a man and went to live with him. A year later, she took me to live with them too. My stepfather was never very fond of me, but at least he wasnt mean. After my previous life with granfull of argumentsliving with my stepdad felt like heaven.

Gran didnt approve of the relationship, but my mum simply took the chance to move away from the woman who ruled our lives. Since then, they’ve had no contact at all.

I call my gran every now and then.

I ring her up once a month, but I have to steel myself for it in advance. I chat quickly about something trivial, just to avoid her negativity. I focus on sharing good news, we exchange a few pleasantries, and thats all. Twice a year, for birthdays and Christmas, I take her flowers and a Victoria sponge. Half an hour is more than enough for me. That’s the sum of our relationship.

My life is good nowI have a caring husband, a young child, and a close-knit family. My husband and I have recently decided to take out a mortgage for a flat in another city.

Last year, gran turned 80.

Until recently, she was sharp and capableshe even managed to take care of herself completely. Now, though, things have taken a turn for the worse.

Shes become withdrawn and cant leave the house, let alone cook. Most days shes on the sofa, though she is still able to get about at home. Shes fallen ill latelyher neighbours have helped her with everything. The reality is, gran needs proper care.

Gran has plenty of distant relatives who keep calling me up and criticising! They cant reach my mumshe and her husband are overseas. So, theyve decided its my responsibility.

But I know what a nightmare it will be. Yes, she raised me, cared for me, taught me things. And, in a way, maybe its my turn to repay her. But I dont want to! She didn’t love me throughout my childhood. While I’ve let go of my resentment for her behaviour towards me, I still can’t forgive her. Yet, of course, there’s guiltI know I should help the old woman.

Finding a carer would be ideal, but I simply can’t afford it. I have a child and a mortgage, and my son is poorly quite often.

What am I meant to do?

Is a granddaughter obliged to care for her elderly gran, or is she allowed to refuseespecially when she isnt expecting an inheritance? I dont want the inheritance, or the responsibility of this gran.

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For the past two months, my extended family has been calling me non-stop, asking me to care for my elderly grandmother — but she was a truly cruel woman, and now I’m torn: am I really obligated to look after her, especially if I want nothing to do with her or any inheritance?
Loyal Friendship Betrayed “I envy you, Amy. Honestly. I really do.” Amy was taken aback. The idea of Sophie envying her seemed absurd… “Are you serious?” Amy asked. “Exactly what do you envy? Do you remember what happened with my last relationship? And this one isn’t exactly heavenly either… I never have much luck with guys… What’s there to envy?” Sophie shook her head, sunlight glinting off her hair. “It’s not about boys, Amy. You’ve got amazing parents. You know? Amazing. They’ve never shouted at you. Never got so drunk that you had to drag them home. And now, look—they’ve given you a flat.” “Soph…” But Sophie wasn’t done. “And mine…” Sophie paused, searching for words. “Mine have always drunk. At first it was ‘just to relax after work,’ then it was ‘just stress,’ and now… now it’s hopeless. Not to mention the loans I’m stuck with because they think it’ll fix things. Sure. I watch your mum call just to ask how you’re feeling, and I realise I was born unlucky…” You’d want to offer comfort, but Mila felt unsettled by that sharp—what seemed to her—“envy.” Friends shouldn’t envy each other. “What can you do?” Amy shrugged. “We can’t pick our parents.” Amy hadn’t been lucky in everything, either. Unlucky in love. Her first serious boyfriend, Tom, who swore they were “one soul,” dumped her after three years—for another woman, no less. After Tom, Amy decided just to live. Love would come on its own, if she didn’t chase it. She didn’t, but then met Mark. At first kind, then his real self—a scatterbrain and a selfish bloke. He forgot to lock the flat door again! Shoes in the hallway, one just tossed sideways, the other by the bathroom. “Hey,” Amy said. Mark shook his shaggy hair. “Oh, finally,” he grumbled. “Listen, I need to transfer money to my card. Can you do it? You can, right? I’ll pay you back.” Amy dropped her bag. Same old song. “Mark, we talked about this. I need to pay for internet, and I planned to buy real meat instead of your mystery sausages.” “Meat can wait, Amy! Come on, just two hundred. I’ll pay you back.” “Alright. But it’s the last two hundred until your advance. And don’t forget about the internet. You can pay for that yourself.” Soon Amy began to suspect things. First, her ring went missing. Not the engagement ring (her history with those wasn’t simple), but a delicate gold band with a dull amethyst. It always stayed in the same place. “Soph, do you remember where I last wore my ring?” Amy asked one night over tea. “No, Ames. No idea… Not at home? Maybe you lost it somewhere?” “I don’t know. I saw it last weekend. Mark was moving stuff in the wardrobe, maybe he knocked it…” “Mark? He goes through your wardrobe?” Sophie squinted. “Well, yeah, he lives here now.” The next loss stung more. An old, but functioning mobile. Amy used it as a backup, for dodgy online registrations or as a courier number. It lay in her desk drawer. Amy searched three times. “Mark, did you see my old phone?” “What do you need it for?” Mark didn’t even look over. “You never use it. Probably tossed it out by accident.” His casualness triggered alarm bells. Too casual. Amy started noticing missing money from her wallet. Little things disappeared again. A pack of expensive batteries meant for her scales. All small, not worth much on their own, but together painting an unpleasant picture. “Soph, listen—” Amy said, stirring her coffee. “You know how easy it is to misplace things…” “I do,” Sophie sipped her tea and grimaced, “Spent three days looking for my umbrella—it was hanging on my chair the whole time…” “Right. But would you… let’s say you needed cash badly—would you ever take something from a mate, something not very valuable, just to return it later?” Sophie looked at her, surprised. “What are you saying, Ames? Did you nick something?” “Not me. Just a hypothetical. Imagine you need concert tickets, and your friend’s got a ring in her jewellery box she never wears.” Sophie thought hard… “Theoretically? I’d get a temp gig, sell something of mine. I wouldn’t touch my mate’s stuff. That’s stealing—even if you pretend it’s ‘just for now.’” “And what if it’s not your mate but your boyfriend?” Amy pressed, gauging Sophie’s reaction. Sophie hesitated. “If my boyfriend started taking my things, he’d no longer be my boyfriend. If he steals—he’s a thief. End of. And stealing from your own? That’s just… wrong. Ames, is Mark stealing from you?” Amy admitted her suspicions. “Just ask him outright,” Sophie advised. “Watch his reaction.” “Just… ask directly?” “What have you got to lose?” Sophie replied. “If he’s innocent, he’s will be offended and explain. If he’s lying… well, you already suspect. Better know the truth.” Yes, maybe it was time to ask. If he lies, it’ll show. Amy tried not to hurt Mark’s feelings, but he blew up: “Are you nuts? What things? Great, now you’re blaming me because you can’t keep track of your stuff?” Mark denied it. Shouted. Fumed. Even tipped out all his bags to prove he hadn’t hidden anything. But confessed nothing. That evening he left to drink with his mate and moan about Amy. The next day, Amy decided she needed to talk to Sophie. She rang at lunchtime. “Sophie, hi. Can I come over? I need to vent about Mark. He…” “Amy, I can’t,” Sophie cut her off. “Got stuff going on. Talk tonight?” “Just for a minute!” “Alright, just for a minute.” Amy had upset her boyfriend, out of nowhere. Would he come back? Can you be forgiven for something like this? Sophie listened in silence, nodding, but her eyes kept drifting away. Finally, Amy finished, waiting for sympathy. “…And he left! You see?” Sophie, who’d been about to go out before Amy arrived, replied: “Congrats, Amy. If he ran, he’s guilty.” “Thanks for the support,” Amy snapped. “And what about you? You seem distant.” Sophie hadn’t talked about her new work romance, and now wasn’t the time. She checked her watch, but Amy caught her hand. The bracelet—exactly like the silver one Amy had lost recently. “Seriously?” Amy gasped. “So it’s you?” “What do you mean, me?” Sophie pulled away. “Let me guess, you’ll say your cousin gave you the bracelet, right? So you got jealous, started nicking my stuff behind my back. And blaming Mark! Great friend… You even wore my bracelet!” Sophie glanced between Amy and the bracelet… “This isn’t yours…” she stammered. “Ames, you’ve known me since nursery. It’s not yours! I got it as a present! I can prove it!” “Don’t bother. Keep it. Might be a small comfort—you called yourself an unlucky loser.” A week of total silence passed. Mark didn’t come back. To find him—and beg forgiveness—Amy had to swallow her pride. But she’d have done anything, just to be less ashamed facing him. One morning, while Mark was in the bathroom, Amy started cleaning the living room. She went to get his old canvas bag from the balcony, which he still hadn’t bothered to take out. Amy pulled it, and the side pocket split open. Out fell its contents—old receipts, guitar picks… and a handful of trinkets she mistook for rubbish. But they weren’t rubbish. There were her blue topaz earrings, lost for good, she’d thought. And finally—it was there: her bracelet. The one Sophie had “stolen.” “Mark…” “I’ll explain,” he was already standing behind her. “What will you explain? You nicked it and couldn’t sell it?” “I was going to give them back…” Needless to say, Mark was sent packing that very day. But Amy was more worried about Sophie not answering her calls, about needing to apologise. “I know you don’t want to see me,” Amy said, showing up at Sophie’s door, “But I have to say this.” Sophie stood in her dressing gown. “I never stole from you.” “I know. I’m so sorry, Soph. It was Mark. I found the bracelet in his bag—he must have wanted to sell it. He admitted to selling the ring, too. How could I believe it was just coincidence that you got a bracelet just like mine?” “You could have believed me, not coincidence. But you believed Mark, didn’t you? Why? Is it because I’m poorer, so I must be the thief? No, I don’t need a friend like that. Tomorrow you’ll file a report on me for stealing. Why would I want that? Go home.”