Did I Mention I Won The Lottery? (26 page)

‘Well I’m sure
wherever it is, such a wonderful place will be good for Gwen and
…’

Rebecca reached
over and touched Brenda’s arm gently.

‘Brenda, it’s
here. This is the fantastic place with the wonderful caring staff
where I want Gwen to stay.’

Brenda stared
at her as though she had lost her mind and then glanced down at the
brandy sitting untouched in front of them both.

‘Rebecca,’ she
started gently,’ I thought that you understood…’

‘You remember
that I won the lottery?’

‘What? Well yes
but I…’

‘Brenda, I am
going to buy Parklands. I’m going to buy the house and the
business. I want you to stay on as manager, I won’t be getting
involved. Well that’s not quite true. My bank manager has suggested
all sorts of ways that we could improve the business and….’ she
stopped.

That could all
wait. Brenda was staring at her in disbelief.

‘I’m buying
Parklands Brenda. Lock stock and barrel. Nobody needs to leave.
Dotty and the others, we’ll do them a special deal, set up some
sort of sponsorship scheme. They can all stay Brenda. As can you.
Will you stay Brenda? Will you stay and run Parklands for me?’

She could see
the tears start to gather in the corners of Brenda Wendover’s
eyes.

‘Are you
serious Rebecca? Are you really going to buy Parklands?’

Rebecca nodded.
She grinned from ear to ear and nodded.

‘Oh!’ Brenda’s
hand flew to her chest and for a moment Rebecca thought that it had
all been too much for her. ‘Oh, I can’t believe it. That’s just too
perfect. I can’t…’

Rebecca pushed
the brandy in her direction.

‘It’s going to
happen Brenda. Parklands is saved and we are going to keep it just
as it always has been - with a few improvements of course.’

With a shaking
hand Brenda picked up the brandy glass and raised it in Rebecca’s
direction. Rebecca picked up her own and gently they clinked
glasses.

I don’t know
what to say Rebecca…I don’t...’ She put the glass back down on the
desk and clasped her hands together to stop the shaking

‘Thank you
Rebecca. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.’

Through the
tears she was smiling and Rebecca smiled back.

‘I can’t say
how much this means to me…’

Rebecca stopped
her. ‘It means a lot to both of us Brenda,’ and they raised their
glasses and drank.

The following
few hours were like every Christmas and birthday rolled into one.
At first no-one could quite grasp the news. The staff repeatedly
asked if it was true, the elderly residents looked on in confusion.
Then slowly the reality hit them all and one by one they started
cheering and whooping and laughing and crying. Many residents
phoned relatives to let them know the good news and many of the
relatives wanted to speak to Rebecca or Brenda to make sure that
there was no mistake. Some residents wanted to say thank you.
Several just sat quietly in their favourite chair, smiling happily
as they let the relief wash over them. Bottles of champagne left
over from Christmas were found and glasses were filled and passed
around. Giggles filled the air and the atmosphere was so profoundly
different from earlier that day that it seemed to Rebecca as though
she had walked into a different place. Gwen sat quietly in her
chair, a look of such pride and happiness on her face that Rebecca
felt the tears start again. Something of a celebrity, Gwen was
getting praise from all sides for having raised such a wonderful
daughter and albeit indirectly, being the answer to their prayers.
She smiled and let the thanks wash over her as she sat and watched
her daughter. Eventually they had a quiet few minutes together.

‘That was a
very good thing you did my darling,’ whispered Gwen.

Rebecca took
her mother’s hand in her own. ‘I just needed to know you would be
okay, you would be happy.’

‘You did all
this, spent all this money for me?’

Rebecca thought
for a moment. ‘Not just for you,’ she said truthfully, ‘some of it
was for me as well,’ and they smiled at each other as they sat
holding hands and watching the celebrations unfold.

Hours later,
with a slight headache from the glass of champagne and the sheer
emotion of the morning, Rebecca made her excuses and left. She’d
had another conversation with Brenda Wendover, assuring her that
there was no mistake, Rebecca was indeed buying Parklands. She
outlined the possibilities that Richard had opened her eyes to, the
expansion of the very top floor, the idea of using the large grand
reception rooms to hold courses for the elderly, escape days for
those generally housebound, Parklands as a weekend or weekly
retreat - all manner of improvements and diversions that would make
Parklands into a profitable retirement home once more. There was so
much to discuss and once Brenda was convinced this was going to
happen she joined in with a vengeance, mentioning several ideas she
had thought of herself and eventually, giggling like school girls
they arranged a formal meeting for a few days’ time when they would
sit down and decide the future of Parklands.

Rebecca drove
away, smiling and waving cheerfully from the window of her car. But
as she pulled out of the driveway the smile disappeared from her
face altogether and her heart began to hammer with dread. She drove
a little way down the road, pulling in at a layby where she turned
off the engine and sat very still, staring out at the countryside
to one side of her and the fast moving traffic to the other.

It had to be
done. She had come to that conclusion in the early hours of the
morning as she tossed and turned and fought her natural inclination
to run for the hills and leave all these decisions behind her. It
had to be done.

She took out
her mobile phone and searched for the number she had entered before
she left the house that morning.

‘Hello?’

Rebecca paused.
She really did not want to do this.

‘H-hello. Is
that Mr White. Tom White?’

‘Yes. Who is
this?’

Another long
pause. It wasn’t too late. She could put the phone down and go
home, lock the door and pretend none of this had ever happened.

‘Hello Mr
White. It’s Rebecca. Rebecca Miles.’

Tom White was
surprised, Rebecca could hear it in his voice. He was also a
gentleman, a kind, elderly man who had never been anything but
courteous to her whenever their paths had crossed.

‘Rebecca! Well
this is a surprise Rebecca. I haven’t spoken to you in a long, long
time. What can I do for you my dear?’

Rebecca’s hand
was shaking and the phone was rattling against her cheek. She
gripped it more tightly, trying to steady her nerves.

‘I needed to
speak to you Mr White…’

‘Oh please
Rebecca, call me Tom.’

Always so
polite, always so nice.

‘I needed to
speak to you Tom. It’s about White’s and the offer Daniel has
made.’

There was
silence.

‘You see, I
don’t know whether you realise this but I won the lottery and
Daniel is using the money to buy White’s.’

There was a
small chuckle from Tom White.

‘Daniel has
offered to buy White’s Rebecca. He hasn’t bought it yet.’

‘Oh I know, I’m
sorry, I didn’t mean…’

This was so
hard. Rebecca closed her eyes. She could hear the drone of the
traffic on the road the soft sound of Tom’s breath on the phone.
What did she mean?

‘I understand
that he increased the offer a few days ago, offered you personally
one million pounds if you would accept?’

‘Yes. He
did.’

‘What I needed
to say Mr Wh… Tom, is that Daniel is unable to stand by the offer
he made to buy White’s. You see, the money he was planning on using
is actually mine and I have decided not to …support him in the
take-over.’

Tom White said
nothing.

Rebecca gripped
the phone tightly again. She had to do this. It was hard but she
had to do this.

‘The thing is
Mr White I don’t think it would be a good idea if Daniel took over
White’s. I don’t think it would be good for White’s or the people
who work there. I think Daniel is - confused at the moment and he
has made a decision based on…’

Hatred,
revenge, spitefulness.

‘…based on the
wrong reasons. The money is mine and I will not let him have what
he needs to buy White’s. I understand that he has offered you a
substantial amount of money if you will say yes but I’m phoning to
ask you to say no to this deal. And if you do I will still pay you
the million he promised you.’

Rebecca stayed
in the lay-by for almost an hour after the conversation with Tom
White. She could of course just tell Daniel that he couldn't have
the money. That she wouldn't let him have the millions he wanted.
That she had bought Parklands and his dream of owning White's was
over. But her guilt at the way she had handled the whole business
of winning made her want to at least try to save Daniel's feelings.
If he just thought Tom White had said no then it ended the matter.
Even Daniel would understand that he couldn't just keep offering
more and more money. He had tried to buy White's and his offer had
been turned down. It was time to forget about White's and move on.
Whether they could move on together, Rebecca was beginning to
seriously doubt but at least he wouldn't have the humiliation of
knowing that Rebecca was behind the refusal. He wouldn't ever know
that she was so disturbed by his mean spirited nature, his need for
revenge and the humiliation of others that she had bribed Tom White
to say no to Daniel's latest offer.

Eventually, her
head aching with thinking, she pulled out onto the road and headed
for home. She wondered if Daniel would be back yet and offered a
silent prayer that he was still busy on the golf course. The
thought of doing battle with him again left her drained and
exhausted. Pulling into the drive her heart sank as she caught
sight of another vehicle parked a little way into the entrance,
only to realise that it wasn't Daniel's car. Passing them and
pulling her own car up to the front door, Rebecca climbed out and
walked back down the drive.

‘Can I help
you?’ she asked pleasantly as a young man who had been examining a
clipboard jumped out and approached her.

‘Hello, you
must be Mrs Miles?’

‘Yes, and you
are...?’

‘I'm from
Homefront Mrs Miles, I'm just here to put up the sign. I won't be
two minutes then I'll be out of your hair.’

He smiled,
turned away from Rebecca and walked to the back of the estate
car.

‘Homefront?’
said Rebecca frowning. ‘I'm sorry, I don't recognise the name.’

‘Homefront,’
echoed the young man opening the boot and letting it swing upwards.
‘The company who are selling your house Mrs Miles.’

He laughed as
though it wasn't at all unusual to come across home owners who had
forgotten the name of their estate agents and reaching into the
back of the car he pulled out a large sign that had emblazoned
across the centre FOR SALE.

For a moment
Rebecca thought she might actually pass out. The ground suddenly
rushed to meet her and the young man's voice drifted off into the
distance. She put a steadying hand onto the bonnet of his car and
watched as he pulled out a pole.

‘Mr Miles has
instructed that the sign needs to go right at the end of the drive,
where people will see it clearly.’

He grabbed a
hammer.

‘Lovely house,’
he sighed looking enviously down the drive. ‘A lot of people who
have this kind of house, you know - excusive kind of a house - they
don't always bother with a sign but Mr Miles explained that you
were after a quick sale and wanted a sign up pronto.’

He hitched the
sign and the pole under one arm and swung the hammer in his other
hand. ‘Won't take long Mrs Miles,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I just need
to...’

‘Put it
back.’

Rebecca's voice
was so calm, so reasonable, so low that the young man paused and
looked at her questioningly. ‘Sorry, didn't quite catch
that...’

‘I said,’ this
time Rebecca's voice was like a roll of thunder rushing across the
fields to break over their heads, ‘PUT IT BACK!’

The young man
stiffened. The hammer stopped swinging and he stood very still,
staring at the woman before him who suddenly seemed to have grown
several inches.

‘Er, you mean
you've changed your mind about the sign?’

Rebecca was
walking towards him and instinctively he took a step back. She
looked wild, her head held high her eyes blazing.

‘I have not
changed my mind about anything. This house is not for sale. This is
my house and I do not wish to sell it. Mr Miles has nothing to do
with this house, he doesn't decide whether it will be sold, whether
it will have a board, he has no say in this house.’

Rebecca was now
nose to nose with the young man who took another hasty step
backwards.

‘This is MY
house. MY HOUSE. MINE. Do I make myself clear?’

The young mad
nodded. Rebecca stared at the sign still in his hand and he threw
it hastily back into the car.

‘Now will you
please take this sign back and tell Homeland or Homefront or
whatever it was called, that this house belongs to Rebecca Miles
and is not for sale.’

‘Yes ... yes
I'll do that right now.’

He threw the
pole and the hammer in the boot, wincing as he heard the hammer hit
one of the signs.

‘You tell them
not to come here again with a sign, a pole or anything to do with
the sale of my house.’

‘I'll go now
and...’

‘Tell them this
is MY HOUSE.’

‘I will, I'll
tell them Mrs Miles, I'll tell them right now,’ and with a nervous
backwards glance he jumped into the car under the watchful eye of
Rebecca and reversed down the driveway to screech out onto the road
and disappear.