Did I Mention I Won The Lottery? Page 3

  Daniel stared at her as she took another sip of her wine.

  ‘But you always make something anyway,’ he spluttered, ‘and the meal at the golf club was bloody awful despite costing a packet! I was looking forward to coming home to eat something.’

  Rebecca shrugged. She did always make something and Daniel always sneered at her and reminded her how he had just eaten at a first class restaurant and why would he want some of her food and what a waste of time and money both the meal and Rebecca were.

  Turning on his heel Daniel went into the kitchen and Rebecca could hear the oven door slam and the microwave open and close as he checked all possibilities. She heard the fridge door open and the clink of a glass as he poured himself a glass of wine and she took another sip of her Pinot Grigio. She had gone in to the kitchen when she’d heard Daniel’s car on the drive and put the bottle behind the fish fingers in the freezer. She had replaced the now empty spot in the fridge with a bottle of the cheap wine they bought each week.

  Daniel came back into the living room glaring at her as he threw himself in the settee. ‘I wouldn’t have thought it was too much to ask,’ he muttered, taking a huge drink of wine. ‘I’ve been out working all day and you’ve been sat at home reading magazines.’

  He kicked the Ideal homes magazine that was on the floor. ‘Most women would have actually thought to make their husband something to eat.’

  Rebecca wondered when she had lost the inclination to argue with Daniel. When they had first moved to Darlington she had been furious with him and they spent most of their first 12 months arguing day and night.

  But one day she had watched him spluttering and pontificating about the rights and wrongs of the move, his importance in the general scheme of things, her lack of importance in anything and she suddenly just couldn’t be bothered anymore. She had let him rant and moan and halfway through she had just stopped listening. And it had been pretty much that way ever since.

  She took another sip of wine. Daniel hadn’t offered her a top up. In a moment she would go and empty the rest of the hidden bottle into her glass before going upstairs and treating herself to the luxury of a bath before she climbed into bed. Daniel always said that baths before bed were a complete waste of time. She would have a shower in the morning, what a waste of water and gas to have a bath before bed.

  ‘Are you listening to me?’ Daniel stuck out his foot to shove her roughly on the leg and Rebecca looked up from her glass and her thoughts.

  ‘You told me you were having something to eat,’ she reminded him. ‘I didn’t want to waste food.’

  He growled something under his breath. One of his favourite complaints was waste. If she cooked too much it was a waste of food. If she went to the shop and came home without any milk it was a waste of petrol. If she washed on a rainy day and used the tumble drier it was a waste of electricity.

  ‘It wouldn’t have been a waste if I ate it – would it?’

  He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled off towards the kitchen, returning with a topped up glass, still not offering any to Rebecca.

  ‘You just need to be a bit more thoughtful. I’m working as hard as I can to keep this roof over our head, the least you could do is support me now and then.’

  Rebecca drifted off, he was starting on the supporting lecture. The one where he did everything and she barely contributed. She had heard this so many times before.

  She should have bought some really nice bubble bath at Tesco. She didn’t normally buy any. It was something else that Daniel thought was a waste, spending money on bubbles. Bubbles were air, they disappeared as soon as you emptied the bath, what was the point in spending money on something whose purpose was to disappear. But she liked bubbles. One of those lovely scents that made you feel as though you had just spent the day at the Spa. She would get some tomorrow. Maybe she would splash out and buy some really expensive stuff at the little perfume shop on the corner of the parade. And some candles. Daniel laughed whenever she lit candles and would ask if the electricity had gone off. But she would get some scented candles and some expensive bath foam and not care what Daniel said.

  Rebecca realised it had gone quiet and looking over she saw Daniel’s glass tipping to a dangerous level as his eyes closed and a gentle snore started. Sliding off the settee Rebecca took the glass out of his hand and into the kitchen. She took the Pinot Grigio out of the freezer and emptied the last of it into her glass before wandering upstairs, humming happily to herself as she ran a bath.

  Chapter 3

  On Monday morning Daniel was like a bear with a sore head. He had woken on the settee in the early hours of the morning and came stumbling to bed complaining loudly about being abandoned by an uncaring wife. Rebecca, who was in the middle of a dream which involved a huge bath full of bubbles and a waiter handing her a cocktail on a silver tray, rolled over and took no notice. Rebeca was on an afternoon shift at the Deli and she held her tongue and supplied tea and toast until eventually Daniel and his complaints walked out of the front door and finally it was just Rebecca and a welcome silence. She took out the number Leslie had given her. This time she was far more focused and started by apologising for her rather emotional response the day before. Leslie laughed and assured Rebecca that it had been the expected response from someone who had just won 15.7 million pounds.

  ‘Well I’m thinking a little clearer now,’ Rebecca said, ‘I ready to sort everything out.’

  It turned out that there was far less to do than Rebecca had imagined.

  ‘We really do make it easy for you to collect your winnings you know,’ laughed Leslie.

  Rebecca needed to show her ID and her ticket to a member of the lottery team and then - well she simply had to watch her bank account until it increased by the sum of 15.7 million pounds.

  ‘Will it take long?’

  ‘Oh heavens, no,’ answered Leslie. ‘You’ll have the money in your account by the end of the week.’

  Rebecca sat down.

  ‘The end of this week?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘All of it?’

  ‘All of it!’

  Rebecca tried to imagine her bank statement showing 15.7 million pounds but simply couldn’t. It had never held more than £500.

  ‘Are you alright Rebecca?’

  Leslie’s anxious voice penetrated the fog of swirling numbers and Rebecca shook herself.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. It’s just - Oh God 15.7 million pounds -it’s a lot isn’t it?’

  Leslie laughed again. ‘It certainly is but you mustn’t worry. We have a team of people who can advise you. Whatever you’re thinking off, investments, bequests, inheritance…we can get you on the right track.’

  ‘Right,’ said Rebecca faintly. ‘Well I think I may need to speak to someone.’

  ‘Of course you will,’ Leslie said firmly, ‘but not right now Rebecca. Don’t make any quick decisions. If you don’t want to go public…’

  ‘I don’t,’ interrupted Rebecca.

  ‘I know, I know. All I was going to say is if you’re not going public tell as few people as possible. Let it sink in before you decide what to do with it all. It can be overwhelming and as soon as everyone finds out they’ll all be telling you how to spend it.’

  ‘I’m keeping it very quiet,’ confirmed Rebecca. ‘Very quiet.’

  ‘Good. Right, where do you want to meet the lottery advisor? We can arrange for him to come to your home. We could meet away from the home, even your bank if you want to make it a little bit more official.’

  ‘Not at home! I mean, the neighbours -you know how nosey neighbours can be.’

  ‘No problem. Have you any ideas?’

  Rebecca thought for a moment. Her mind was still whirling with the thought of a bank account showing several million pounds. It was difficult to think clearly.

  ‘Leeds,’ she blurted out, ‘I want to meet in Leeds.’

  ‘Okay. Any idea where?’

  Not really, Rebecca didn’t h
ave a clue what she was doing.

  ‘Er… I’m going to be in Leeds for a couple of days this week. Can I let you know when I’ve booked my hotel and we could maybe meet there?’

  ‘Absolutely no problem Rebecca. You’ve got my number. When you’re sorted let me know. If we can meet on say Wednesday, the money will be in your bank by Friday.’

  Rebecca’s head was whirling again.

  ‘15.7 million pounds?’

  ‘That’s right Rebecca - 15.7 million pounds in your bank account by Friday.

  When Rebecca told them at work that she needed to take a few days off there was a little mewl of distress from Carol who owned the Deli. With flushed cheeks Rebecca lied and said that her mother wasn’t very well and she needed to go to Leeds and visit her for a couple of days. At which point Carol and Susie both put their arms around Rebecca and told her it wasn’t a problem at all, of course they could manage, hadn’t it turned out all right the week before when Susie had been ill? She must go and not give them a second thought and even whilst Rebecca’s heart turned with shame at her lies and their concern she nodded her head and let them hug her and offer her support.

  ‘It’ll do you good anyway,’ offered Susie in the lovely Geordie accent that Rebecca had taken almost two years to fully understand. ‘A couple of days away from Mr Nobby.’

  Carol nudged Susie in her ribs but Rebecca didn’t mind. They had never known Daniel as she had, when he had been relaxed and happy, when they were a young couple with two adorable children. The only Daniel they had ever met was the pompous, self-absorbed man he had become, constantly lecturing and berating, full of his own ideas with a mind that was completely closed to anyone else’s thoughts or opinions. Rebecca didn’t mind because she agreed with Susie, a couple of days away from Daniel was always a treat.

  So Rebecca carried on with a guilty heart and a flood of emotions that had her constantly confused and resulted in several mistakes. She had only been at work for an hour when Carol gently drew her into the tiny little office at the back of the shop. This was where Rebecca had been interviewed 4 years earlier. She had worked in the local supermarket when they first arrived in Darlington. Daniel had made it clear it was time for everyone to join in supporting the Miles household and Rebecca’s years of being a mother and housewife where over. Rebecca had actually quite looked forward to going back to work but she had hated the supermarket. She left after a few months and moved to a small bakery. She had hated the bakery. A few months later she had seen a job offered at the small Deli and tea rooms she often popped into when doing her shopping. She had met Carol in the tiny little office which could hold two people but which struggled with three and she had fallen in love with the Deli, Carol and Susie, the flame haired, warm hearted and rather verbose assistant who already worked there. She had been offered the job on the spot. Now Carol put an arm round her sympathetically.

  ‘Rebecca darling, I think you should go home.’

  Rebecca looked startled. Was she being sacked?

  ‘No, I’m sorry! I...’

  ‘No,’ interrupted Carol. ‘You’re obviously worrying about your mum and you’re just not yourself. Go home and get yourself sorted for your trip. Put your feet up, have a coffee and relax, pack…whatever you need to do but go home.’

  Rebecca let herself be persuaded. She had never imagined that it would be this hard, keeping her millions a secret. Her hands were shaking and her mind kept drifting to all manner of places, houses, cars and some of the exotic locations contained in the travel brochures now secreted under the living room sofa. So she put on her coat, allowed Carol and Susie to kiss and hug her, promised to be back as soon as she could and set off to the car park and home.

  The first thing she did was make a coffee, then she turned on the laptop and curled into her chair in the conservatory with the duck egg blue throw over her legs as she researched Leeds hotels. In her hand was the credit card taken from the bottom of one of the shoe boxes at the top of her wardrobe. It was her safety net. She had applied for it two years earlier after discovering that Daniel had emptied the bank account to pay for a week of golf in Scotland, where he was convinced he would pick up enough business to put everything right. The electricity bill and the car insurance had rolled through the door within minutes of his departure and in desperation Rebecca had applied for a credit card so she could pay the bills and also to give her some security for the future. When Daniel returned they’d had one of their rare arguments as she accused him of being selfish and deluded. With his face purple with rage at being questioned he had argued back that she needed to earn more and that the responsibility of the entire household and family shouldn’t be on his shoulders alone. Rebecca hadn’t told him about the credit card or that the bills had been paid. She made a point of serving nothing but beans and chips for weeks, refusing to buy any wine and asking him every night, as soon as he arrived home, if he had managed to write any business as a result of his trip to Scotland. The credit card was repaid and hadn’t actually been used since but it was still at the bottom of the shoe box, ready for the next emergency.

  Normally when she went to Leeds to visit her mother and Sarah, Rebecca would go by train and stay in the Travelodge in the city centre. If she booked far enough in advance she could get a super saver room and she was close enough to the bus station to be able to travel out to the nursing home where her mother lived and was within easy reach of Sarah’s student rooms.

  But that was before Rebecca had won 15.7 million pounds. A few keystrokes later and she had decided on Quebecs Hotel, still in the centre of Leeds but this time in a room that was quite rightly classed as luxurious. With damask curtains, a king size bed, TV, a small sitting area and a selection of toiletries that rivalled the contents of Rebecca’s complete bathroom, it was a far cry from the usual comfortable and practical room Rebecca would occupy.

  She lifted the phone with a heart that was thumping and a few minutes later it was done. Rebecca was booked into the luxurious Quebecs hotel for a minimum of 3 nights with the option to extend. She put the phone down and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

  If it was going to take this much out of her spending a few hundred pounds, how on earth would she cope with spending 15.7 million! She patted the credit card, probably in shock after so long in the shoe box and stretched out in the chair smiling. It was only a few nights in a decent hotel but it was a glimpse of the life ahead and Rebecca had a feeling she was going to enjoy it.

  By the time Daniel came home, slamming the door behind him in temper, Rebecca had booked a train ticket, first class of course, phoned Sarah to let her know she would be in Leeds for a couple of days and phoned her Mum at the nursing home to say she would be popping in to visit her. She had phoned Leslie and arranged to see the Lottery adviser at Quebecs hotel on Wednesday morning. The little account which was soon to hold 15.7 million pounds had been opened in Leeds many years earlier and she had also made an appointment to see her bank manager to warn him of the unexpected boost to her bank balance. She had packed a small case with a few essentials, not too many because she had every intention of visiting the shops while she was in Leeds and she was ready to leave.

  Whenever Rebecca went away for a few days she would make Daniel a meal for each night she was away and put them in the freezer. She didn’t think he had ever said thank you.

  ‘Bec, where are you?’

  Every night the same question, every night the same answer. Rebecca would be in the kitchen making the evening meal, even if her own shift had only finished a few minutes before Daniel came home. She heard the keys and change hit the table and heard his footsteps stamp into the kitchen.

  ‘What’s for…Bec, where are you. What’s for tea? What are you doing?’

  Rebecca stayed where she was in the conservatory and took a sip of her wine. Another bottle of Pinot Grigio, the bottle well hidden in the kitchen.

  ‘I’m in here,’ she sang out as Daniel loomed in the doorway.

  ‘What’s h
appening? What are you doing in here? Why are you drinking and what’s for tea?’

  His voice rose indignantly on each question as he waited for Rebecca to answer.

  ‘I’ve been too busy to think about tea. There’s some chicken in the freezer if you want to make something or the menu for the Chinese is next to the fridge.’

  Rebecca stayed in her seat, watching with interest as Daniels face coloured from brow to neck as he watched her sitting in the chair drinking wine.

  ‘You expect me to work hard all day and then come home and make my own tea! What’s wrong with you? Don’t tell me you had a bad day at the Deli,’ he sneered, ‘too many people wanting a pot of tea at the same time?’

  Rebecca didn’t answer straight away. She was watching the dull flush of colour spread across Daniel’s face.

  ‘Actually I’ve been packing, my mum’s not well.’