A For Sale sign appeared outside the vacant, not to be marital house, we had not requested it. Ex-boyfriend’s father had negotiated asking price, negotiated terms.
We did not communicate with The Ex-boyfriend, nor his father, and positively not his mother. The house sale went ahead.
Laura did not return to that empty house, too many hopes with far fewer memories. She told us this: Valentine’s Day, The Boyfriend’s father placed a card and a bottle of wine in the bedroom for Laura to discover.
Except for the heartache shackled to my daughter, I was glad she was not marrying this boy. Glad she was not marrying his family.
Husband and I tidied the renovation work, we brought home paint brushes.
The house was snapped up, it had risen in value due to a market boom and renovations. Take back our down payment, there was profit for the ex-couple to share. A solicitor dealt with legalities: The marriage had not taken place, no joining of a couple, they had never lived together. Surely, the money we invested belonged to our daughter? We wanted our money back for Laura, we were entitled. The solicitor agreed.
Ex-boyfriend’s family would not accept the return of our deposit. They had acquired a taste for crisp bank notes and what they could buy. They wanted half of all proceeds, including Laura’s investment. Official letters pigeoned back and forth. We waited for resolution, and time crept by.