Did I Mention I Won The Lottery? (5 page)

‘How bad is
she?’ he asked nervously.

‘She’s okay,
but I need to visit her. For a couple of days. I’ll see Sarah while
I’m there as well.’

Daniel nodded,
patently relieved that he was not included in the visit and Rebecca
couldn’t help the little twist of shame as she counted the lies she
had told over the course of the day.

‘Right,’ he
nodded his head in the nearest to sympathy that he seemed capable
of these days. ‘Well I suppose it won’t hurt to get a takeaway once
in a while. I’ll go choose shall I?’ and he stalked back into the
kitchen, leaving Rebecca sitting in her chair counting the hours to
her 10.25 train the following morning, her first class seat and the
luxurious room waiting for her at Quebecs.

The train was
precisely 2 minutes late and at 11.51 Rebecca arrived in Leeds
station. The hotel was only a few minutes walk away and Rebecca had
very little luggage. She paused at the taxi rank before grinning to
herself and continuing on her way. She had won the lottery, not
lost the use of her legs and she walked past the rows of waiting
taxis and set off in the direction of her hotel. Within 5 minutes
she was walking through the main door, held open for her by a
smiling concierge, and towards the reception desk.

‘Hello, I have
a room booked for later, I wondered if I could leave my bag here
while l shop a little?’

Her voice
little more than a whisper, Rebecca looked uncertainly at the
receptionist.

‘Of course, no
problem.’

Taking
Rebecca’s name, she consulted the register, ‘You’re booked into the
Robinson suite. Check in is at 3.00pm, we’ll have your bag in your
room for when you return.’

Rebecca nodded
her head, ‘Right. Good. Thank you. Thank you very much,’ and
smiling she turned to walk back through the lovely glass door and
out into the bright but cold air of Leeds.

15.7 million
pounds. Like a little mantra inside her head the number seemed to
fit in with her footsteps as she walked towards the nearest
shopping area. 15.7 million. Oh my God, she had won 15.7 million
and it would soon be in her bank. Where should she start?

A few hours
later Rebecca sat in a small café and sipped at a caramel macchiato
as she rested her weary feet. If she was going to spend 15.7
million pounds she would have to change her tactics. Despite a
first class rail ticket and a luxury hotel plus a few hours of good
old fashioned shopping, Rebecca hadn’t even made a dent in her new
fortune. Her credit card, her trusty companion, had started to
shout with glee when it was taken from her purse but even so, she
had spent very little.

She had visited
Boots and allowed an enthusiastic young assistant show her a
selection of creams and potions especially for the ‘more mature
skin madam’. Rebecca had nodded in agreement when asked if she
could feel the softness of the cream on the back of her hand,
agreed enthusiastically when asked if she approved of the aroma and
casually handed over her credit card when asked if she would like
try its powers for herself. Then she had walked past Topshop,
continued past Dorothy Perkins, completely ignored Primark, winced
at the doorway of Harvey Nicholls, paused at the entrance of Wallis
and finally spent over an hour in Debenhams designer department.
She emerged laden with several bags and the beginnings of a new
wardrobe including a pair of scandalously high shoes, a new handbag
and a fantastic trench coat that Rebecca considered to be
criminally expensive but which would certainly keep out the
freezing Leeds air.

And now she was
worn out and although there was a wonderful trickle of guilt
travelling down her spine, when she added everything together she
had hardly spent anything. Not when she had over 15 million to
dispose of.

She had spoken
to Sarah the previous evening.

‘I’m going to
hit the shops before I meet you,’ she had confessed to her daughter
and Sarah had laughed her lovely rich laugh.

‘Oh God mum,
it’s about time! Make the most of it. When are you going to see
Granny?’

‘Well I think
I’ll go on Thursday, I’ve got a few things to do Wednesday.’

‘What kind of
things?’

Sarah was
intrigued and Rebecca couldn’t really blame her. When did Rebecca
last have anything interesting to do.

‘Oh nothing
special. I need to go see the bank, you know what they’re like
these days. They want to give you a personal service and your own
account manager and it must be 8 years since I stepped foot in the
place.’

Sarah had
chortled at the thought of her mum having a personal bank
manager.

‘Sounds like
fun! Then we’ll meet Tuesday evening, I’ll treat you to a
pizza.’

Rebecca had
smiled, ‘That would be lovely my darling but it’s my treat and
maybe we should go somewhere a bit more upmarket?’

‘Don’t be silly
Mum, there is nothing more upmarket than a pizza!’ and laughing
they arranged to meet at their favourite restaurant on The
Headrow.

Rebecca looked
at her watch. It was 3.20 and she decided to go back to the hotel
and deposit her shopping bags. She still had several hours before
she met Sarah. Perhaps she would have a bath. If the bathroom was
anything like the picture on the web site she couldn’t wait.

The picture
didn’t do the bathroom justice and Rebecca had to hold in a little
squeak as the polite young man who showed her the room threw the
bathroom door open with a flourish. It was bigger than Rebecca’s
bedroom at home and was nothing short of palatial, full of marble,
fluffy white towels, exquisitely presented toiletries and a bath
that just invited her to jump in. The bedroom was large, the settee
soft and plump, the bed a field of soft goose down. Rebecca simply
nodded her head.

‘Very nice,’
she whispered then cleared her throat ‘Yes very nice thank
you.’

She pushed a
note into the hand of the young man and then waited until she
estimated he had reached the lift before whooping and throwing
herself on the bed. Is this what happened when you had 15.7 million
pounds, a bed that reached up and enfolded you, making you feel
that you never wanted to leave it and a bathroom that looked like a
film setting? Rebecca smiled, this was going to be good.

Wednesday
morning found Rebecca dressed in one of her new outfits and sitting
in the hotel as she waited for the Lottery advisor to arrive. She
was in a small alcove above the main reception area, away from the
hustle and bustle. A superb stained glass window that stretched the
height of the wall allowed a rainbow of light to dance across
Rebecca’s face as waited. A small settee and a couple of large
comfortable chairs were set around a table decorated with an artful
arrangement of flowers. She had ordered a coffee and explained that
she was expecting guests. The answer as usual was ‘no problem’ and
an assurance that the visitors would be taken to Rebecca as soon as
they arrived along with a fresh pot of coffee. If you had enough
money were there ever problems wondered Rebecca? If you were
staying in the lap of luxury and made a request, did there ever
come a time when the staff simply shook their heads and said,
‘sorry Madam, we just can’t do that’?

She smiled as
she thought back to last night. She and Sarah had enjoyed a lovely
evening. They had met at the little Italian restaurant on The
Headrow they always visited and eaten pizza as Sarah brought her
mum up to date with the latest ups and downs of student life. If
she had wondered why her mother could afford to be so generous she
hadn’t said anything as Rebecca ordered not only a bottle of wine
with their meal but then insisted on treating Sarah to several
cocktails before ordering a taxi home for her daughter and pushing
the money to pay into her protesting hand.

She had wanted
to tell Sarah what had happened. She wanted to wrap her arms around
her daughter and tell her that all her problems were over. She
didn’t have to worry about paying back her student loan. She could
resign from her job in the local pub and her job in the corner
shop, both of which she kept so she didn’t have to constantly ask
Rebecca for help. She had wanted to tell her daughter everything,
but she hadn’t. How could she when she hadn’t told Daniel yet? He
must be told first, after all it was their money. So she had said
nothing but hugged her daughter tightly and said goodbye.

‘Rebecca?’ A
tall, thin young man stood before her, an attractive blonde woman
at his side, both looking enquiringly at Rebecca as she sat lost in
her daydream.

‘Yes, that’s
me.’

Rebecca jumped
to her feet nervously, almost knocking over her coffee cup.
Artfully rescued by the waiter who had accompanied her guests, he
ushered them all into seats and then produced another pot of
coffee, extra cups and a plate of pretty little cakes before
smiling politely and withdrawing.

Rebecca’s heart
was hammering so loudly she felt sure that everyone in the room
must be able to hear. What if it had been a mistake after all? What
if she had misunderstood something and there was no money, that
15.7 million was not about to be placed in her bank account? How
would she explain the mountain of debt now sitting on her credit
card? How would she manage to pay it back, what on earth would
Daniel say?

‘Well Rebecca,
congratulations! You’ve won 15.7 million pounds on our lottery.
Well done!’

The voice was
discreet enough not to draw any attention but to Rebecca it sounded
like a trumpet being blown.

‘Really?’ she
whispered, ‘I’ve really, really won?’

15 minutes
later even Rebecca had to admit that there was no mistake. Alan had
examined her ID and lottery ticket, double checked her bank account
details, confirmed that there was to be no publicity and finally
declared that the amount of 15.7 million pounds would arrive in
Rebecca’s bank on Friday morning, first thing. He advised Rebecca
to see her bank manager and made an appointment for her to see an
investment specialist who could answer any questions she had about
the handling of a large win.

Alan had also
explained that people often worried about the wait, those long days
before the money reached their bank account. What if something
happened to them, would their family still get the money?

‘And will
they?’ asked Rebecca curiously. ‘Still get the money, I mean?’

‘Oh of course!
You’ve won the money Rebecca, we don’t take it away if your
circumstances change. But always remember the money is yours and
until you make a will no-one is automatically entitled to any of
it.’

‘Mine.’ Rebecca
twiddled her fingers as they rested in her lap. ‘Surely it belongs
to my husband as well?’

‘Oh no,’
interrupted the blonde who had said very little up until now and
whose name Rebecca couldn’t remember. ‘It’s your money Rebecca,
it’s not a matrimonial asset so it’s actually entirely up to you to
decide what you want to do with the money.’

‘Oh.’ Rebecca
bit her lip. ‘Not that I wouldn’t … well you know I’m not asking
because…’

‘Like I said,’
the blonde added firmly, ‘it’s your money, entirely yours and
entirely up to you what you do with it Rebecca. You and no-one
else.’

They left
shortly after and for a while Rebecca remained on the settee in the
corner.

When the waiter
arrived to ask if she wanted anything else she started to wave him
away and then jumped to her feet with guilt.

‘Oh I’m sorry,
how much…’

‘It will be
added to your account Madam. No problem.’

Of course there
wasn’t a problem, giggled Rebecca, she had just won over 15 million
pounds, what could be a problem?

After going
back up to her room to splash cold water on her face and slip on
her trench coat, Rebecca set off into Leeds once more. The bank was
only a few streets away and she had a couple of hours to while
away. She wandered along, her mind whirling as she went over and
over the meeting she had just had. There was absolutely no doubt
any more. No mistake, no possibility that she had gotten anything
wrong. Rebecca Miles would soon have millions of pounds in her bank
account.

She stopped in
front of a window and stared. Five minutes later she was still
staring. Could she? Could she really?

She opened the
door and looked around to see if anyone was free.

‘Can I
help?’

An older lady,
smartly dressed in a trouser suit with her hair neatly set, smiled
in Rebecca’s direction.

‘Yes you can.’
Rebecca walked over and sat at the chair in front of - she leaned
forward to read her name badge - in front of Annie’s desk.

‘I am thinking
of buying a house in this area and I would like you to show me what
you have.’

Having answered
a few basic questions for Annie, how many bedrooms, reception rooms
etc. they had arrived at the matter of the budget.

‘And how much
do you have to spend?’ asked Annie.

Rebecca
shrugged. How much did she have to spend? 15.7 million pounds
actually. Not that she would spend all of that on a house.

‘I’m not sure,’
she confided, ‘I suppose it depends on the house.’

Annie nodded.
‘Yes I understand but if you can give me a starting figure, just so
I know what we’re looking at?’

Rebecca chewed
on her lip. How much? She had 15.7 million pounds. How much did
someone spend on a house when they had 15.7 million pounds?

‘Well, I
suppose a million?’ she offered nervously.

Annie stared at
her for a fraction of a second and Rebecca pushed her hair behind
her ears. ‘Maybe a couple of million?’

Annie’s
eyebrows shot upwards and although her manner had been
exceptionally pleasant ever since Rebecca arrived, Rebecca wondered
if she detected a tiny little change in her demeanour.