Brexit, Wills and Inheritance for UK Expats in the EU

On a sunny Thursday in Málaga, Helen spotted a letter on the kitchen table, partly hidden beneath a bowl of lemons.

Her husband had placed it there after his walk, with the notary’s crest peeping out. As the kettle clicked off, the scent of coffee helped steady her as she read it twice: succession, habitual residence, choice of law. She had an English will, written when the children were little and the most worrying thing in life was a school-trip consent form. Now the letter asked which country should decide who receives the house if she dies first. The sunshine seemed too noisy, if that makes sense. She promised herself she would deal with it after lunch, but never did. There is something unnerving about paperwork that knows precisely where you live.

The quiet shift after Brexit: what really changed for your estate

Brexit did not alter family relationships, but it shifted the legal framework supporting them. The UK never joined the EU Succession Regulation, commonly known as Brussels IV, so many cross-border estate rules had always remained somewhat separate from Westminster. The major change is the loss of EU “glue” in connected areas: cooperation mechanisms, reciprocal certificates and the familiar practice of approaching the same authority for the same document. Without that glue, banks become cautious and notaries are very precise about what they will accept.

For UK nationals resident in the EU, one point has remained notably consistent. Most EU states still apply Brussels IV, under which the law of your habitual residence determines inheritance unless your will clearly chooses the law of your nationality. That election has always been important, but it carries greater weight now because institutions want orderly documents containing unambiguous directions. Brexit did not remove your wishes, but it made the paperwork around them less forgiving.

On the UK side, inheritance tax did not change merely because of Brexit. What has changed is the mood at the boundary between legal systems: how a French notary interprets an English grant, whether a Spanish bank accepts translated probate, and the time lost obtaining stamps and apostilles. Bureaucracy has its own sound: the soft thump of a document landing on a counter. You are likely to hear it more often where your will says little, or nothing, about your cross-border life.

Habitual residence vs nationality: the rule that decides who gets what

Under EU rules, the starting position is that the law governing your estate is the law of the country where you were habitually resident when you died. If you have lived in Lisbon for ten years and die there, Portuguese law takes charge unless you have stated another choice. That arrangement works well for many families. For others, it can mean encountering local forced-heirship rules that reserve parts of the estate for children or a spouse, even where an English will had left everything to a partner or charity.

One straightforward clause can direct the entire process. A British person living in Spain can state in their will that the law of England and Wales, Scotland or Northern Ireland governs their succession. That single election can reduce the conflict between English testamentary freedom and continental reserved-share rules. A French notary will search for it, and a German probate court will honour it. It is not a magic wand, but it establishes the direction.

The clause your EU notary looks for

The language does not need to be elaborate. Wording such as “I elect the law of England and Wales to govern the succession to my estate” is the type of statement that reassures officials and gets files moving. If your legal roots are in Scotland, specify Scots law instead. The principle is identical: identify yourself in legal terms, rather than simply naming where you sleep. Without that sentence, the default law of your EU home speaks first, and it may not reflect your wishes.

France has an important complication to bear in mind. In 2021, France introduced a route allowing children to seek their “reserved” share from assets situated in France, even where foreign law has been chosen and excludes them. This does not displace the EU rule, but it changes the French part of the picture. If you own a maison secondaire in Brittany and intend to leave everything to your spouse, test that intention against the French reserve rather than the plan you once imagined on a ferry.

Real homes, real rules: property in two countries

People often describe “the estate” as though it were an abstract cloud, but the things that truly keep widows awake are the flat in Hackney and the terrace in Valencia. Under Brussels IV, your chosen law applies to the entire estate throughout participating EU countries. In practice, your selection of English or Scots law can extend to a Spanish home just as it does to a UK bank account. It does not remove the need for local formalities, however, and that is where delays arise.

Land registries continue to operate in their own local language. Spain requires a notarial deed to amend title. Portugal calls for tax-identification procedures before anything else happens. Germany and Italy favour certified translations. An executor has considerable authority in England, but their role can look different in many EU states, where a local notary may take on the work. Think of it as different plug sockets: each property needs the appropriate adaptor.

Denmark and Ireland are outside Brussels IV, so their private international law determines the outcome. Ireland frequently applies the law of domicile and the location of the asset, which can refer back to English rules, although not always as you might anticipate. This is a useful reason to obtain local advice wherever you own bricks and mortar, rather than only where you drink your morning tea. Property feels weighty, as do the laws holding it in place.

The tax side that catches expats off guard

Tax depends more on where people and assets are connected than on labels such as EU or non-EU. The UK continues to charge inheritance tax at 40% above available allowances where you are domiciled or deemed domiciled, and the “deemed” status can catch people after many years overseas. If a home passes to direct descendants, you may qualify for the residence nil-rate band, provided that both the property and family circumstances meet the requirements. Stay outside the UK for a long time without fully breaking ties and you may find yourself in a grey area you never intended to enter.

Across continental Europe, tax rules do not operate as a single neat system. Spain previously restricted generous regional allowances to EU/EEA connections; several regions subsequently extended reliefs to non-residents, but practical treatment can differ and paperwork may be exacting about links with a particular region. France taxes French-situated assets owned by non-residents and also considers where heirs live when working out liability and amount. Portugal has no traditional inheritance tax, although 10% stamp duty may apply unless the heir is a spouse, child or parent. Labels can mislead; rates do not.

Double tax treaties are the overlooked guides through this maze. The UK has full estate-tax treaties with only a limited number of countries, including France and Italy, which allocate taxing rights and prevent the same asset from being taxed twice. Where no treaty exists, relief depends on unilateral credits that may not fit together cleanly. The quickest path to reassurance is to check the tax position in every country connected with you before drafting a single line.

Paper, seals and translations: getting a will recognised

The EU introduced the European Certificate of Succession to make it easier for estates to cross borders. The UK never used it, so Brexit did not remove that option from UK practice. What changed was the atmosphere at the counter: English grants no longer arrive with even a suggestion of EU mutual trust, meaning greater reliance on apostilles, sworn translations and clearly drafted clauses. If you imagine your executor carrying a folder between an embassy and a bank, that is not far from reality.

Many lawyers now suggest having two wills: one for the UK and another for the EU country where you live or own property. Each is adapted to its own legal system, properly signed and witnessed for that jurisdiction, and drafted carefully so that neither cancels the other. Each will should state that it deals only with assets in that country and confirm that it does not revoke the other will. Two well-coordinated wills are better than one unwieldy document every single time.

What the desk clerk actually wants

Clerks value certainty. They want the name in your will to match your passport, tax numbers positioned where they expect them, and a clear statement of the governing law. An apostille from the UK Legalisation Office helps foreign officials feel more comfortable. A sworn translation of key papers keeps the queue progressing. Store original documents together and tell your executor where they are; uncertainty is the enemy of speed.

The COVID-era will and the pen you thought you’d never need again

During the pandemic, England and Wales temporarily permitted wills witnessed by video link. That emergency period ended in 2024, and the webcam complications ended with it. A will witnessed on camera during the permitted period can still be valid, but reviewing it and considering a fresh ink-on-paper signing can make matters calmer at the bank counter. Old law has a fondness for wet signatures that seems almost romantic, until you are the one buying the stamp.

For expats, the Wills Act 1963 provides a useful safeguard. It allows a will’s formal validity to rely on the law of the place where it was signed, where you were domiciled, or your nationality at the date of signing or death. This gives you scope to sign abroad without falling foul of technical formalities. Do not allow that flexibility to encourage a kitchen-table will that no notary will handle. The least expensive time to resolve the details is before the flight, rather than after the funeral.

Readers in Scotland and Northern Ireland should use the correct legal language in writing. Scots law has its own character, including “legal rights” for spouses and children in certain circumstances, and should be expressly named where it is your chosen law. England and Wales are associated with testamentary freedom, but claims may still be made under the Inheritance (Provision for Family and Dependants) Act. The storyline is straightforward: you can set out your wishes, but the people who rely on you may still have a voice.

Small steps that change everything: a checklist you’ll actually do

Begin with a brief note to yourself: where do I live, where are my assets, what law do I want? Say those questions aloud and the shape of your will nearly emerges on its own. If you live in the EU, add a choice-of-law clause. Appoint an executor able to act in the UK, alongside a local contact overseas who understands notarial procedures. Then prepare a one-page list of assets and keep it with your will, so that those close to you are not searching drawers for account numbers.

Review the beneficiaries named on pensions and life insurance, as these frequently sit outside the will. An outdated form can send money back to the wrong decade. Ensure bank accounts in your EU country have an appropriate plan for who can access them after your death; some accounts are firmly frozen until a notary authorises their release. If you own a business, keep the shareholder register somewhere people can genuinely locate it.

We have all said, “I’ll sort it next week,” only to look up and find that Christmas has arrived again. That may be harmless with paint samples, but it is difficult for executors. Give your family the kindness of a will that feels up to date. You deserve a will written in a voice that sounds like you, rather than a template. The simplest time to update your will is before life happens, not after.

The conversations that make families kinder

These conversations tend to begin in a familiar way. Somebody opens a bottle, somebody puts away the dishes rather too noisily, and then you say, “By the way, where I live now means Spanish rules unless I choose English law.” It feels uncomfortable for two minutes and then, strangely, brings relief. People want to understand the plan, even if it is only a first draft. Once it has been voiced, the future no longer feels like a locked room.

Tell your children what you want your will to achieve for them. Explain the position with the French house, or why your partner needs security before the artwork passes to the children. Let them hear your reasoning while you are available to answer questions. Their questions will reveal where the gaps are. Let’s be honest: nobody really does this every day.

Your life crossed borders because you were brave, curious, or perhaps both. The law can cross them with you if you make the route clear. Choose your law, organise your papers and give your family a story they can live with. The next letter left on the table will not seem quite so loud, and that may change more than you expect.