Did I Mention I Won The Lottery? (2 page)

It had been
Friday night when Rebecca had checked her numbers against the scrap
of paper she had brought home. She hadn’t looked at the numbers
since. She hadn’t checked to see how much she had won. And she
hadn’t mentioned the winning ticket to Daniel.

There hadn’t
seemed much point when she didn’t know what to tell him. All she
knew was that she had a winning ticket. She had no idea what her
prize was but the daydreams had returned full force. Now they were
real and strong. Now it wasn’t an if but a when. Rebecca didn’t
know how much she had won but surely it was enough to change her
life. It wouldn’t take much after all.

Clutching the
coffee mug with one hand, Rebecca soon found the lottery web page
that gave all the detail she needed. Every draw, every week, every
winning ticket and how much each ticket had won. She scrolled to
her week. There had been only one winner that week. Was it Rebecca?
She supposed so, she had matched every number. Didn’t that mean she
got the jackpot? She scrolled down a little more - and how much had
she won?

The cup fell
out of her hand as though in slow motion. Rebecca watched as it
flew gracefully towards the floor, landed and then bounced upwards
throwing its contents across the tiles and her feet before landing
again to smash into one large piece and a dozen smaller pieces. She
watched for a moment as the pale brown pool of coffee trickled
between her toes and round the chair leg then hearing Daniel’s feet
thumping down the stairs she reached forward and snapped closed the
computer.

‘What have you
done? Don’t just sit and look at it, it’s spreading everywhere!’
and with a grunt Daniel grabbed the paper towel from the kitchen
and threw it in Rebecca’s direction.

Catching it on
reflex, Rebecca tore off a sheet and looked downwards at the
spreading pool.

15.7 million
pounds. The numbers jumped around in front of her eyes as she
stared at the coffee. 15.7 million pounds. Rebecca had won 15.7
million pounds.

‘For God’s sake
Bec, what’s the matter with you? Give it here,’ and snatching the
paper towel from her hand Daniel bent down to start mopping at the
floor.

15.7 million
pounds. For a moment Rebecca wondered if she had said it out loud
but Daniel didn’t react. Mopping roughly at the floor and grunting,
he grabbed more handfuls of towel until the lake of coffee was
gone.

‘I’ll get a
brush,’ he muttered and walked back towards the kitchen.

15.7 million
pounds. Rebecca could still see the amount printed on the screen,
the numbers neat and organised. 15.7 million pounds written next to
her lottery numbers.

Her hands
started to shake and she pushed them into her dressing gown pocket
as Daniel came back with the brush. She suddenly realised that he
was fully dressed.

‘I told you I
was playing golf today,’ he started defensively as he saw Rebecca
take in his outfit. ‘It’s an important day. I’m taking old
Murgatroyd and his son for golf and then a meal. They used to be
one of our best customers and I haven’t had a sniff of business
from them in ages. I need to get him back on side!’

Rebecca
nodded.

‘I did tell you
Bec, I told you last week I would be out all day. I said that
…’

‘I remember,’
interrupted Rebecca who had absolutely no recall of the
conversation. ‘It’s not a problem. Give me the brush, I’ll do this.
Go on, get off, you don’t want to be late.’

Daniel’s
eyebrows shot up as Rebecca grabbed the brush from him and all but
pushed him towards the door.

‘Right… well,’
he started ‘as long as you realise how important this is…’

‘It is, I
agree, I remember.’

Rebecca took a
deep breath and tried to control her breathing. ‘Of course it is
Daniel, go on, I’ll clean this up. Have a good time.’

It took another
few minutes to get Daniel to the door and then Rebecca stood in the
front room, slightly to the side of the window and watched as
Daniel’s car pulled out of the drive and set off down the road.

15.7 million
pounds. She had won 15.7 million pounds.

Two hours later
Rebecca had cleaned the house, put in the washing and was sitting
in front of her computer again with her heart hammering. She turned
on the screen and scrolled to the lottery results page. There it
was, one winner only, one winning ticket, a 15.7 million pound
ticket. She had checked the screen every 15 minutes as she cleaned,
convinced that she would suddenly realise it didn’t say 15.7
million at all. In a daze she had wiped the kitchen surface and
mopped the floor where she had spilled her coffee. No of course it
hadn’t said 15.7 million. She would finish the cleaning and check
again. But after the cleaning was done and Rebecca checked for one
last time, there it was, 15.7 million pounds.

Taking a deep
breath, Rebecca pulled the lottery ticket from her pocket and
spread it out next to the screen. Her hand shaking, she reached for
the phone and dialled.

‘Hello. Er… I’m
Rebecca. Rebecca Miles. I’ve got…I have…. I think I’ve won the
lottery.’

30 minutes
later Rebecca was sitting in her favourite chair in the
conservatory, a brandy in her hand as she watched a robin hopping
around the garden. Her toes were almost blue with cold and her hand
still shook slightly as she lifted the glass to her lips. She
really ought to find her slippers, she thought but didn’t move from
her chair.

A very nice
lady called Leslie from the Lottery Help line had spoken to her.
She had validated Rebecca’s ticket and confirmed that she had
indeed won 15.7 million pounds. She had waited calmly as Rebecca
lost the power of speech, sympathised as she burst into tears and
had tried to give her a little practical advice which was all
falling on deaf ears. In the end they had agreed that she would
speak to Rebecca tomorrow after the shock had worn off a little.
They would talk about the team of people who would be on hand to
guide Rebecca through the legalities of winning so much money,
offer her investment advice and generally look after her.

The only
decision Rebecca had already made was about publicity. When Leslie
told her that a team would deal with it all in her behalf, she was
quite, quite clear that this would remain private. No publicity at
all,

‘That’s not a
problem at all Rebecca. If you don’t want to go public that’s okay.
But these things have a habit of coming out anyway. You tell your
neighbour and she tells her friend and they tell someone at the pub
and pretty soon everyone knows. If you want to go public we’ll
help, we’ll protect you as much as possible and help you deal with
it. But if you turn down the publicity team you’ll be on your own
when everyone in the street is knocking on your door wanting a
share. It’s surprising how many people suddenly remember you as
their long lost friend and feel that you should be sharing the
wealth - and I have to say families are often the worst ones!’

But Rebecca had
been firm - no publicity. She didn’t tell Leslie that there was no
chance of anyone in the street finding out because she hadn’t told
a soul, not even her husband. But she assured Leslie that since
checking the numbers she had been very discreet and she didn’t feel
publicity would be a problem and she promised that she would follow
Leslie’s advice and tell only her nearest and dearest until she had
met with the Lottery team.

She needed to
meet someone as soon as possible and in the meantime she had
followed Leslie’s advice and written her name and address on the
back of the ticket. She hadn’t put it in a safe place, it was still
clutched in her hand.

As the
conversation drew to a close Rebecca had a final question.

‘There couldn’t
be a mistake could there? I mean, I have definitely won?’

Leslie
chuckled, it was clear that this wasn’t the first time she had been
asked this question as she assured Rebecca that there was
absolutely no mistake. She had won 15.7 million pounds. Her life
had changed forever.

So now Rebecca
was sitting in the chair, gazing out onto the garden knowing that
in a few days there would be millions of pounds in her bank
account. Leslie had mentioned it might be an idea to have a word
with her bank manager and mention that a large amount of money
would be arriving shortly. She should also get herself a lawyer -
it was a lot of money to suddenly be responsible for. When Leslie
had asked for bank account details, Rebecca had paused for the
briefest of seconds before she gave the number. It was an account
Rebecca had held for years. She would squirrel away money during
the year and then use it to buy the children’s Christmas and
birthday presents. As they got older she started putting away
whatever she could whenever she could and now she used it to help
them out when they were down to their last tin of beans, had to
spend another £100 on books or whenever life at university became
that little bit too expensive for them.

Daniel didn’t
think they should help the children now they had left home. They
were independent he said, it was time they learned the value of
money, learned how to budget and also learned how to do without. He
hadn’t been like that when they were little. Daniel had been a
wonderful father when they had two small children running around
the house. But as he had gotten older and more disenchanted with
his own lot in life, he had become a mean person. And not just
regarding money. He was mean with his time, his praise, his love.
He had recently spent a fortune renewing his golf membership, which
they could little afford in light of his plummeting salary, but he
had told Sarah quite firmly only last month that he wasn’t prepared
to lend her any money and if she couldn’t afford life at university
then maybe she should pack it in and get a job.

Rebecca hadn’t
argued with him. She had stopped arguing with him a long time ago.
She had simply emptied what was left in her account and shared it
between Sarah and Toby until the next instalment of their student
loans came through. The account had been empty ever since.

Rebecca
wondered if she should have put the money in the main bank account.
After all that was the account that paid the mortgage, the bills
etc. That was the account that was severely in need of a little
help as Daniel’s sales commissions had dropped lower and lower over
the last few years. But, she reasoned, it was probably for the
best. Just until it was all sorted and definite. Once the money was
in the bank and she knew there was no mistake, then she could
transfer it into whichever account she wanted. But for now, it was
best to put it into her account. Just until everything was
sorted.

Suddenly
Rebecca gave an almighty whoop, so loud that the little robin
looked up in surprise and flew onto the garden fence.

She had won the
lottery. She had won 15.7 million pounds!

For the first
time Rebecca actually let herself believe that it was true and
slamming the glass down she leapt to her feet and threw her arms
out.

‘Oh my God I’ve
won!’ and to the amazement of the robin who was watching Rebecca
and next door’s cat who was watching the robin, she began to dance
and spin and whirl around the conservatory laughing and whooping
and flinging her arms around as the tears poured down her
cheeks.

Breathless,
tear stained, Rebecca stopped. The brandy had warmed her stomach
but her feet were still icy cold. She stared down at them. She
really couldn’t remember where her slippers were but it didn’t
matter - she could always buy some more.

She sank back
into her seat. It was Sunday lunch time. The weather was cold and
blustery. Her husband was playing golf and she had just won 15.7
million pounds. What should she do next?

Tesco would be
open, but it was hardly the place to splash millions. Besides, she
didn’t actually have it in her bank yet. She could plan but not
actually spend. Rebecca jumped up and started pacing the floor. How
frustrating. To have all that money but not actually have it in her
hand! She wondered what other people did when they won the lottery.
She ignored the little voice inside her that said they told their
family and went back to the computer. A few minutes later she knew
that the first purchase of most lottery winners was a car. Closely
followed by a house and a holiday.

That didn’t
really help - she couldn’t buy any of those things at Tesco on a
Sunday afternoon. And besides she knew nothing about cars. Or
holidays come to that. Other than the odd week away in Greece or
Spain, she and Daniel didn’t really go on holiday much. They had
when the children were small; lovely family breaks where they
played on the beach, drank Sangria and lazed around. But as time
moved on Daniel had declared them a waste of time and money. At
least he had declared family holidays a waste of time and money -
he often went away for long weekends of golf, even a week to the
Algarve once. Rebecca didn’t mind him going away. She actually
welcomed the peace and quiet. Sometimes she took a weekend off to
visit Sarah at Leeds University or Toby at Bristol. Last time she
had gone to Leeds she had treated herself and Sarah to a day at a
Spa and they’d spent a lovely few hours wrapped in fluffy white
towels being pampered.

That was an
idea - perhaps a long weekend at a Spa would be good. Recharge her
batteries, spend some time thinking about what to do next.

A car. Well
Rebecca could do with a new car. Daniel had a company car, a Ford
Focus which was replaced every two years and came insured and
serviced and seemed perfectly acceptable to Rebecca. Daniel didn’t
think it was appropriate He felt he should have something that
reflected his position in the company. Rebecca had refrained from
pointing out that his position was that of the worst performing
sales man. Her car was a little Nissan that was old and rusty but
Daniel had declared it good enough.