“Grandma…”
Greta continued.
“I want you to study seriously. And if you decide later that this course isn’t right, I expect you to make a sensible decision, not stay just because money’s been spent.”
Pieter interrupted.
“Mum, you can’t give away your savings.”
Greta looked at him.
“Why not?”
“You need them.”
“I have other money set aside for ordinary expenses.”
“What about emergencies?”
“I have a reserve for those too.”
He looked unconvinced.
Greta sighed.
“Pieter, I haven’t spent eighteen years saving without learning how to make a budget.”
He opened his mouth.
She held up a hand.
“And I haven’t forgotten that I’m old.”
The room went quiet.
Greta lowered her hand.
“This money has a purpose. It always did.”
Hannah was crying now.
Not dramatically.
The tears had arrived before she understood why.
She looked down at the old tin box.
“All this time…”
Greta nodded.
“All this time.”
Hannah wiped her cheek.
“The birthday presents…”
Greta looked at her.
“What about them?”
Hannah shook her head.
“You never bought me expensive things.”
“No.”
“And I was so horrible about it.”
Greta was quiet.
Then she said, “Sometimes you were.”
Hannah gave a broken laugh.
Her grandmother smiled slightly.
“You were also twelve. And thirteen. And fifteen. Those weren’t your most reasonable years.”
Hannah covered her mouth.
Greta reached across the table.
“Come here.”
Hannah stood so quickly that her chair scraped across the floor.
She went around the table and knelt beside her grandmother.
Greta placed a hand against her cheek.
Hannah could barely speak.
“I thought you didn’t want to spend money on me.”
Greta looked at her for a long time.
Then she said, quietly, “Oh, Hannah. Who do you think I was saving it for?”
Hannah began crying harder.
She put her arms around Greta’s waist.
Her grandmother held her close.
Pieter looked down at the bank documents.
For several moments, no one spoke.
The kettle clicked as it cooled.
A tram passed somewhere beyond the apartment windows.
And on the table, beside a plate of uneaten biscuits, eighteen years of small decisions lay arranged in a stack of paper.
The discovery did not end the family’s financial difficulties.
Pieter still needed work.
Claudia still needed time to recover.
The mortgage still had to be paid.
Vienna was still expensive.
But the family could now make a plan.
Greta transferred the educational funds through documented bank transactions, with Pieter and Hannah reviewing the arrangements carefully to ensure the money would be used as intended.
They also discussed her own financial security.
Greta became impatient with repeated questions, but she accepted that giving away a substantial sum required thought.
She showed them her pension details, emergency reserve, and living expenses.
Pieter insisted that she retain adequate money for her own needs.
She agreed.
They established a payment schedule for the academy rather than transferring everything immediately.
Hannah took responsibility for applying for further scholarships and finding affordable housing.
She secured a room in a shared student flat.
She planned to continue part-time work where her studies allowed.
For the first time in months, the future became something they could discuss without every conversation ending in silence.
Hannah began visiting Greta more often.
At first, she did it because she felt guilty.
Then she found that she liked the visits.
They drank tea.
They walked to the market.
Hannah helped sort old photographs.
Greta taught her how to repair a loose button properly, complaining that young people seemed to regard a missing button as grounds for replacing an entire garment.
Hannah laughed.
“You’re never going to stop talking about money, are you?”
Greta smiled.
“Not at my age.”
But something had changed between them.
Hannah no longer assumed that every refusal came from a lack of affection.
She began asking questions.
How had Greta managed after Franz died?
Why had she continued sewing?
Had she ever wanted to study?
One afternoon, Greta told her about the training programme she had been unable to attend at seventeen.
Hannah listened carefully.
“Were you disappointed?”
“Of course.”
“Did you want to leave Graz?”
“I wanted to see what I could do.”
“Why didn’t you go later?”
Greta considered.
“Life became busy. Then your grandfather and I married. Then your mother and uncle came along.”
She smiled.
“I had a good life, Hannah. Don’t misunderstand me.”
“But you would have liked the choice.”
Greta looked at her.
“Yes.”
Hannah examined her grandmother’s hands.
“Is that why you saved for me?”
“Partly.”
“What was the other part?”
Greta smiled.
“You’re my granddaughter.”
Hannah laughed.
“That’s not an explanation.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
There was one subject Greta still refused to discuss.
Her health.
She had been growing increasingly tired.
Sometimes she became breathless climbing the stairs.
She had a persistent cough that she attributed to the cold air.
Her ankles occasionally swelled by evening.
Claudia noticed that her mother rested more frequently during visits.
Pieter noticed that she no longer walked to the market as often.
Hannah noticed that Greta sometimes pressed a hand against her chest after carrying groceries.
“Grandma, are you okay?”
“Of course.”
“You’re breathing funny.”
“I’m old.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Greta smiled.
“You’ve become very argumentative.”
Hannah frowned.
“Seriously.”
“I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t entirely fine.
Greta had been receiving treatment for a chronic heart condition for several years.
Her doctors had recommended ongoing monitoring and adjustments to her care as symptoms changed.
She had attended some appointments and missed others.
She disliked hospitals, worried about additional expenses, and found it difficult to accept that she needed more help than before.
Her reluctance was not simply a matter of refusing to spend money.
She feared losing independence.
She feared becoming a burden.
And she had become accustomed to minimising discomfort.
The family gradually learned that she had been understating her symptoms.
