The Problem
There are two women in their mid-30s: Kate, who has two children and is married to a gambler; her sister Ann, single, in a job she doesn't particularly enjoy. Totally unexpectedly, their mother died and left almost everything to Ann, creating a great rift between the sisters. The brother-in-law is about to lodge an application to the courts saying the will is unfair and is threatening that Ann will have no relationship with her little nephew and niece unless she acts quickly and divides the inheritance equally with her sister. She wanted our advice.
I'M delighted to discover that I am not alone in knowing exactly how other people should live their lives. In fear and trembling I went to collect the post office box replies, and to my delight there were 127 of them in their little envelopes. Thank you very much for taking the problem as seriously as I do. And thanks also to those who drew on their own experiences to give advice.
Out of all the people who wrote, well over two-thirds asked not to be identified, apart from initials. I did say, of course, that you could do this, so as far as I'm concerned that's fine, even though there is a bit of me that wants the letter-writers to have their public acknowledgment as well as their book tokens.
But for all I know, those who wrote in might have first-hand knowledge of family dissension, gambling problems or unfair wills that they do not want to share with their colleagues and neighbours.
I wrote my own answer to Ann before I read the 127 letters and, as you will see, not everyone agrees with me. The great thing about asking a lot of people for advice is that you get some general wisdom and a hopefully balanced view. The downside is that you might become the victim of the last person you have spoken to, changing and vacillating with each new concerned suggestion .
But it will certainly prove, in this case, that the problem she has is not one with an instant and obvious solution. She has managed to divide readers almost equally into two courses of action.
I would, of course, love to know what she does eventually. In a perfect world she would write to us in a year's time saying which road she chose. But it's a not a perfect world, and advice-givers are not allowed to follow the people home and demand more detail. The truth is we may never hear.
My Advice
Dear Ann,
Give it to them. Lie and say you always intended to divide the estate equally between Kate and yourself but you were in shock after your mother's death and the strange unexpected divisive nature of her will. Say that you know Kate's fence-sitting and your brother-in-law's hysteria mentioning Section 117 applications to the courts were all part of the same shock reaction. Tell them you've been to a lawyer who more or less insists that some of the money be put in trust for the children. Honestly, if Kate's husband blows the rest on a lame horse, a blind dog or a pair of sixes, well then so be it. You will still have your sister and her children. And the children will have something when they are 21. Nothing is as important as friendship and family, and although this may seem a bit artificial, forging a false sense of belonging with a gun at your head demanding half your mother's estate, believe me it will be better than keeping it in the knowledge that they are churning with resentment at what will, however unfairly, seem like selfishness and sharp practice on your part. You can't pretend that you are obediently and dutifully carrying out your mother's last request by hanging on to the money. You say that in life she constantly pitted you against each other, a hurtful and damaging attitude that must not be allowed to continue.
What good is the money alone? You are not poor; you already have a job and a flat. You have given no indication that you would be just fine if only you could lay your hands on some more finance. You don't have a business to invest in, a charity to endow or an urge to cruise the world on a liner. If you had wanted to do any of these things, you would have mentioned it.
So what will the money be except some kind of ballast, a bigger pension?
You will be able to get that anyway with just half of your mother's estate. Money might mean the freedom to give up the job you don't really enjoy. I know a great many people who stay in unsatisfactory workplaces regardless of whether they could afford to leave or not. It's often a matter of temperament.
I'm not even remotely suggesting that you might be a pathetic, lonely person who has to buy the affection of the next generation. With or without the whole of your mother's estate, you will have your own life ahead of you, maybe a new career, a new direction, a new love, and maybe your own children. None of this has anything at all to do with the decision you must make now.
I don't think it's a lot of use leaving big sums to your nephew and niece in your own will; let's hope you'll all be around for decades. There's an old piece of sage advice, "Give with warm hands". It's very sound. Give while you are alive and can see the result of it, and give generously so that your heart and conscience will be at rest.
You would not have written to me if you were at ease with the possibility of keeping that money.
Warm wishes from Maeve