Did I Mention I Won The Lottery? Read online

  ‘Oh I’ll pay,’ said Rebecca ‘just tell them to let me know how much they want,’ and smiling at Annie she walked out into the garden where she was sure the air had suddenly become a whole lot warmer.

  It was Friday morning and as Rebecca opened her eyes she had trouble working out what time it was. The thick damask curtains did an excellent job of keeping out the light, weather and noise and it took Rebecca a few seconds to focus on the clock on the side table. She had overslept. It was 9.07. Another superb meal followed by another deep, luxurious bath had sent her into a long sleep ably helped by fluffy pillows and goose down and Rebecca had stayed in bed long past her usual 7.30 wake up time.

  She sat up, looking around the still dark room before slipping out of bed and into her dressing gown. She pulled back the curtains, enough to let in some of the hard, bright winter light and then walked over to the sitting area where she did the same, gazing down onto the street below.

  It was busy. Workers still flooded the streets, buses and taxis lined the road. Everybody busy, everybody with somewhere to go. Rebecca turned back and sat by the small coffee table. It had occurred to her yesterday that she had no means of checking her bank account. So she had made a quick visit to the nearest electrical shop and now a brand new laptop sat on top of the piles of brochures, magazines and leaflets that were starting to accrue.

  She had asked for the password for the hotel’s Wi-Fi the night before and she had checked her bank account, which showed exactly zero.

  But today was Friday and the balance should be a whole lot more.

  It wasn’t until she had logged into her bank account and was watching the swirling circle as the page loaded that Rebecca realised she was holding her breath.

  She exhaled, loud and deep just as the circle completed and on the screen came her balance.

  15.7 million pounds.

  It was there in black and white. Her account held 15.7 million pounds. She counted the noughts just to be sure but there really was no mistake. Rebecca Miles had 15.7 million in her account.

  Chapter 6

  It was Monday morning and Rebecca was on an early shift at the Deli. She had arrived home on Sunday afternoon, having extended her stay at Quebecs. She had met Sarah again and taken her shopping, refusing to listen to her insistence to pay her own way. She had done a little more shopping herself but had been quite restrained, after all where would she wear all these new clothes? As yet she had told no-one about her win. She was carrying on with life as normal and Rebecca’s normal life did not include a wardrobe of new clothes. But she had visited a hairdresser and her hair had been cut and coloured back to the vibrant auburn tones of ten years earlier and she had been amazed at the difference it made to her face. She’d also spent a few more hours in Debenhams, wandering through the household section and visualising all the soft bath towels lined up in her bathroom, choosing the pans that would be in her kitchen, picking out a new colour scheme for her bedroom.

  And she had also bought a house.

  Annie had phoned her only a few hours after they had visited Beech Grange to tell Rebecca that her offer had been accepted, the house and the majority of the furniture was hers. The owners were looking for a quick sale and were delighted that Rebecca wanted to move things along so speedily. Details were exchanged, solicitors engaged and Rebecca was told that in the absence of any problems the house would be hers within the next few weeks.

  She had returned to Darlington with a far bigger suitcase. The new laptop was packed at the bottom under her new trousers and trench coat, the new phone she had bought on impulse tucked next to it. Rebecca had never bothered with a mobile. But with solicitors, bank managers and estate agents all now needing to keep in touch, she had wandered into a shop and come out clutching a phone that was a complete mystery to her but which now contained her new list of contacts.

  The first thing on her list of things to do was to tell Daniel. He needed to know so that they could actually move on with their new lives. The holiday brochures that Rebecca had brought home from Tesco were now tucked at the bottom of her underwear drawer and even Rebecca appreciated that it would be hard to fit in a two week luxury break on a tropical island without her husband noticing.

  She needed to tell him. Sooner rather than later. Especially as she seemed to have bought a house.

  Except when she got home the house was empty and there was a brief note from Daniel that simply said ‘golf’. There were pots in the sink and food on the surface. The takeaway menu was next to the kettle and Rebecca felt a tiny moment of guilt that she hadn’t bothered to leave him any meals prepared. But it was only a tiny moment and soon disappeared as she spent the next hour cleaning the kitchen and restoring order. At least it gave her time to take her suitcase upstairs and unpack out of the way of prying eyes. Not that Daniel would have bothered to watch her unpack, he seemed to have very little desire to pry into her life these days. The laptop went onto the top shelf of the wardrobe amongst the shoe boxes, the phone went into her handbag, the clothes into the wardrobe. The toiletries and cosmetics were shared between the bathroom and her dressing table and when everything was unpacked and the suitcase put away, Rebecca went downstairs to make a cup of tea which she took to bed before falling into an exhausted sleep.

  In the morning she had received a grudging apology from Daniel for his late return home before he brought her up to date with every slight and insult he felt had come his way during her absence. He was incensed that Peter had now insisted that Daniel bring himself up to date with the new practices of the business whether he wanted to or not.

  How dare he! Did he not realise how much experience Daniel had in this business? Did he not understand how much Daniel knew about the packaging business? Didn’t he know just how many customers Daniel had brought to White’s over the year? How dare he act as though he was in charge. How dare he!

  Rebecca listened as she gazed around the kitchen and thought about her new house. The kitchen alone was as big as the ground floor of their Darlington house. She couldn’t wait to move.

  ‘Are you listening to me!’ Daniel was thrusting his quivering red face inches from her own.

  Rebecca put down her coffee cup. ‘Yes I’m listening. But Peter is in charge though, isn’t he Daniel?’ and she walked out of the kitchen leaving Daniel, for once, silent.

  So she had not told Daniel about the 15.7 million pounds in her bank account. Or the house she had arranged to buy in Leeds. She hadn’t told Daniel and therefore she couldn’t tell Carol and Susie so she turned up for her shift as usual that afternoon, answered all their questions about her mum and her few days in Leeds and carried on as though everything was exactly the same as normal. They admired her hair and she admitted she had decided to treat herself but she didn’t wear any of her new clothes and the new perfume stayed on her dressing table. It was a normal day and half way through Rebecca began to wonder if it had all been a dream until she arrived home and checked her account online. There it was on the screen, 15.7 million pounds, large, bold and real and sitting in her account. She closed the laptop and went into the kitchen to peel some potatoes.

  She didn’t tell Daniel that evening, or the next morning, or the next evening. She still hadn’t told Daniel on Friday morning when she took a call from Leslie to arrange a meeting the following day with another Lottery advisor followed by a call from Annie to check that all was ok and to suggest a date for the signing of the contracts and finally a call from Sarah saying what fun it had been to spend some time with her mum the previous week.

  Every night Rebecca decided that she would break the news, show him the ticket, show him her bank account balance on the computer. She would explain that she hadn’t told him earlier because she had wanted to be absolutely sure. She would have to explain that she had already bought a house, that would be hard, but initially she just needed to tell him about the money, about her win.

  But it simply hadn’t happened. For some reason as she sat and watched him eating h
is meal, listening to his usual angry rant about the state of White’s since Peter Thompson took over, how humiliating they were making it for him, how they didn’t know what they were doing; as she listened to the excuses why none of his deals had completed, listened to the reasons why there was no new business to be had, she just couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She watched his mouth move, his words falling out. She needed to tell him. She wanted to tell him.

  ‘I’m going to Leeds tomorrow.’

  Daniel stopped mid-sentence and stared at Rebecca, his fork halfway to his mouth. ‘Again!’

  Rebecca didn’t answer.

  ‘But you’ve only just got back, why are you going again?’

  ‘Because I want to visit mum again.’

  ‘But you’ve only just visited her. Why do you need to go again so soon?’

  Rebecca carried on eating, meeting Daniel’s eyes across the table.

  ‘I mean,’ he grumbled, ‘you are my wife. Is it too much to expect that you could stay at home with me occasionally? Look after me instead of running off to Leeds every two minutes to visit your mum. What about me?’

  Rebecca thought about pointing out that this may have been the second visit in the last two weeks but she had gone months before that without traveling to Leeds because Daniel always made so much fuss about spending money on train fares when there were bills to pay. She stared at him as he shoved a forkful of vegetables in his mouth. He hadn’t asked her about her mum. Hadn’t asked if she had been okay. He hadn’t asked about Sarah, whether Rebecca had met with her, if she was okay. He hadn’t actually asked about anything, her journey, whether she had had a good time, where she had stayed.

  In fact, Rebecca mused, Daniel didn’t really ask her anything anymore, other than when his food would be ready. He didn’t ask about her day, about her health, about what she was doing.

  He complained. He complained that she hadn’t done enough chips or that she had done too much rice. He complained that she hadn’t put any petrol in the car or that she had forgotten to buy his favourite shaving foam. He complained that she had the heating up too high, the lights too low, the TV on too loud.

  He complained a lot.

  And he told her things. He told her how hard his life was, how unfairly he was treated at work. He told her constantly how hard he had to work to keep the roof over her head. He told her that things hadn’t gone well, that the potential customers he had spent the weekend trying to impress had gone to another packaging firm. He told her that he was fed up with Peter Thompson, fed up with being overlooked. He told her how disappointed he was with his life, how he had been let down after all his hard work.

  He told her lots of things but he never asked her anything anymore.

  He was still talking. ‘It’s not easy you know, coming home and having to look after yourself after a hard day at work. Just having you here occasionally isn’t too much to ask. Another visit so soon seems unreasonable to me. You live here!’

  Now, thought Rebecca. Tell him now. Tell him that there’s 15.7 million in the bank and he doesn’t have to work anymore. Tell him that you’ve spent 2 million on a house in Leeds and you want to leave Darlington.

  ‘Daniel…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s only for a couple of nights, you’ll be fine.’

  Rebecca caught the train to Leeds the next morning. She had booked into Quebecs again and was delighted to hear them say how happy they were that she was coming back and would she like the same room. She arrived early again, left her case to be taken to her room, smiled at the receptionist and then walked down to Annie’s office where she was treated to a warm welcome and the offer of a coffee.

  ‘I just wanted to catch up,’ explained Annie. ‘The vendors have drawn up a list of all the furniture that they are prepared to leave. There are just one or two bits and pieces that they want to keep but the rest are yours. Here’s the itinerary.’

  Rebecca took it and read through the pages of descriptions. It didn’t mean a great deal. She hadn’t fallen in love with the furniture because of the name or the style but because it had all looked so right, part of the home she had decided to buy.

  She handed it back to Annie. ‘That looks fine.’

  Annie cleared her throat. ‘There are some very good quality items in there Rebecca. They want an extra £50,000.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Annie looked relieved. ‘That’s not a problem?’

  ‘Of course not Annie, I said I would buy the furniture, I didn’t expect them to give it to me.’

  ‘Right,’ suddenly looking a lot brighter, Annie topped up Rebecca’s coffee.

  ‘Well, all is going to plan. They’d already had all the surveys done and now it’s just a case of waiting for the conveyancing. As there’s only the two of you in the chain it looks as though it will be yours on 19th April.’

  Just over two weeks away. She really must tell Daniel. And soon.

  Rebecca left a smiling Annie and walked back to the hotel just in time to see a middle aged woman arrive at the reception desk and ask for Rebecca Miles.

  Rebecca shook her hand and asked the receptionist if there was somewhere they could talk privately. Two minutes later they were in a small side room, obviously used for such meetings and decked out with a small table with chairs on either side and a pot of coffee.

  It was a long drawn out affair, especially for someone like Rebecca who hadn’t ever been involved in investments and savings before but the woman, Joyce McCrindle, had been efficient and clear.

  Basically Rebecca discovered that the large amount of money sitting in her bank account was entirely hers to dispose of. When Joyce McCrindle heard that Rebecca wanted to provide for her children but not overwhelm them, she suggested setting up trust funds for them both together with monthly allowances. When she heard that Rebecca’s elderly mother was in a home and living from the sale of her house, she suggested a separate account that would meet the cost of Gwen’s care, her resident’s fees and perhaps give her a small monthly allowance too, saving Gwen’s remaining assets.

  When Joyce McCrindle failed to find out anything at all about Rebecca’s husband, she advised Rebecca that the money was not actually a shared asset. Rebecca had come by it independently and it was actually nothing to do with Daniel. When Rebecca protested that of course it would involve Daniel, Mrs McCrindle put her hand on Rebecca’s arm and repeated that it was entirely Rebecca’s decision what she did with her winnings.

  Complete with brochures, leaflets and a better understanding of what was needed to keep control of such a large sum of money, it was after 3.00pm and Rebecca went back into reception to collect her key. Arriving back in The Robinson suite was like arriving home. Rebecca sank onto one of the overstuffed settees and put her collection of brochures onto the table. She probably felt more at home here than in Darlington, which was a sad thought.

  She thought about her new house. Only two weeks and it would be hers. She could live in Leeds again in her beautiful new home. She just needed to tell Daniel.

  Unpacking and slipping on her trench coat, Rebecca took to the shops and over the next few hours she all but emptied Debenhams and House of Fraser as she chose huge fluffy bath towels, colour co-ordinated bed linen for every bedroom including a luxurious rich red brocade and velvet throw for her own room, a top of the range selection of pans and kitchen accessories, cushions, toiletries, glass vases, silver photo frames, heavy cathedral candles - and anything else that she could think of. All for her new home and left at the store for delivery once Beech Grange was officially hers. Then Rebecca did a little more personal shopping, this time walking confidently into Harvey Nichols before eventually wandering back to the hotel with her arms full of bags.

  It seemed so much easier to shop this week. She didn’t have the same feeling of being a fake and as she walked around the shops she was overwhelmed with the knowledge that she could afford just about anything that she wanted. Instead of chewing her lip and wonderi
ng if she was being ridiculous, Rebecca was full of a confidence that she hadn’t known for years.

  She had phoned Sarah earlier who was amazed that her mum had returned to Leeds again so soon and had said she couldn’t meet her mum that night. They arranged to go the Parklands together the next day and then on for Sunday lunch somewhere.

  ‘We’ll take Granny,’ Rebecca had announced and when Sarah had questioned how, Rebecca announced airily that they would book a special taxi, one that could take wheelchairs.

  So the next day she and Sarah were driven to Parklands where they spent a lovely hour. Rebecca wore a new pair of trousers with a top in a rich bronze colour that brought out the new tone of her hair and made her hazel eyes sparkle. They sat in the TV lounge and drank tea and listened to the chatter all around them. Rebecca wondered again at how pale and tired Mrs Wendover looked and planned to have a word as soon as she could. Maybe the home was in trouble, maybe they needed some help. Rebecca was certainly in a position to do just that and she had to make sure it survived for her mother.