My relatives have long expected me to depart this world. I have no doubt they plan to claim my flat once Im gone, but I took care of matters well in advance.
I happened to be sixty years old, living alone in a modest flat. I had neither children nor a husband, though I had once been married. At twenty-five, Id wed for love, as so many young Englishwomen do.
But my marriage was shattered by my husbands betrayal. He brought his mistress into our home, and I simply couldnt abide it. I packed my things and returned to my parents house. Two months after our divorce, I discovered I was with child.
To be honest, I never told my former husband. I wanted nothing more to do with him. I resolved to raise the child on my own. When my son was born, the doctors gave me tragic news. Your baby is very frail, they said. But thats not all. He suffers from an untreatable illness. The most you may hope for is that he reaches the age of eleven or twelve.
I truly felt lost, uncertain where to turn. I nursed my son daily, and for years my mind was consumed by the heavy knowledge that his time would be brief.
Miraculously, my boy lived until he was fifteen. It so happened that both my son and my father passed away within a week of each otherI lost the two souls dearest to me.
My father left me his flat, which was not only spacious but nestled right in the heart of London. All these years I carried on alone, never seeking out men. I always wished for another child, but fear kept me from risking another heartbreak.
When I turned forty-five, I bought myself a laptop, hoping to keep in touch with family and stay up to date with the news.
Word spread among relatives that I lived by myself. They began visiting in rotation, bearing gifts and little tokens. Often they asked whether Id written a will; if I hadnt, theyd lament my financial woes. Some made themselves appear more caring and deserving than others, all angling for favour. I saw right through them. In truth, I knew exactly to whom Id leave my homea friend whose daughter had selflessly helped me for years.
But my family wanted only the flat. Eventually, I stopped seeing or speaking with them, yet they simply refused to leave me be.
One day, my cousin rang me and, with astonishing rudeness, asked whether I was even still aliveand who would inherit my flat. I felt deeply insulted, so I blocked every relative from contacting me again.
