Did I Mention I Won The Lottery? by Julie Butterfield

inside,
she had known since the moment she climbed on the train bringing
her back to Darlington.
    ‘Yes, I
am.’
    Daniel’s face
darkened. ‘Again!’ he exploded. ‘You really need to go again?’
    He threw his
knife and fork on the table.
    ‘This is just
too much Rebecca. This can’t go on. You are my wife, I deserve some
consideration, I deserve to know what’s going on!’
    Rebecca met his
eyes, waiting until the storm had finished. He was right, he did
deserve to know what was going on.
    ‘I don’t have
to go,’ offered Rebecca watching Daniel’s tense jaw relax a
little.
    ‘Well, I should
think so. I…’
    ‘Mum could come
here for the weekend instead.’
    She actually
saw his life flash before him. She saw him weigh up the idea of
having Gwen in his house for the weekend. The cancellation of his
golf as he helped get Gwen in and out of the car. His involvement
in the general organisation of where she would sleep, how they
would get her up the stairs.
    ‘Well…’ He was
sweating. He tugged at the collar of his shirt which wasn’t at all
tight and puffed his cheeks. ‘Well… I suppose... I mean it’s not
that I don’t want her to visit...’
    ‘Or I could go
to Leeds and visit her?’
    He was gritting
his teeth. He didn’t want to be beaten. He didn’t want to give in.
But neither did he want Gwen in the house.
    ‘Probably for
the best,’ he grunted. ‘I suppose.’
    The week took a
long time to pass for Rebecca. Daniel all but ignored her, which
actually suited her very well. He made no comment on the dramatic
improvement in her appearance although she thought she caught a few
questioning glances her way.
    The best part
of the day was either during the morning of a late shift at the
Deli, or an afternoon following an early shift. Then it was just
Rebecca and her thoughts. She would come home, turn the heating up
full, make a cup of coffee in her new coffee machine and look
through the growing pile of glossy magazines and brochures. She
would make plans, decide where she would put all her new purchases
once Beech Grange was hers, how she would put her own personal
touch on the already beautiful house. Occasionally she would check
her bank account and look at the numbers. The money for the house
hadn’t been transferred yet and the shopping Rebecca had done so
far was a drop in the ocean. The figure had hardly moved. At work
she was the same old Rebecca, albeit better dressed and happier. At
home she was still Bec, in the kitchen making the evening meal for
when Daniel came home. But for those few hours she snatched to
herself each day she was a lottery winner with 15.7 million in the
bank.
    She ordered a
new bed to be delivered once the contracts had been exchanged. She
narrowed a choice of holidays down to an all exclusive resort in
Mexico or a beach hut in the Seychelles. She knew Daniel would not
want to go on either. She bought a plasma screen TV for her new
lounge. She also looked into the problems of running a residential
home, the average costs and investment needed and made an
appointment to meet Mrs Wendover the following Saturday. She
donated money to the local dog’s home and pledged monthly amounts
to almost every charity that advertised on the TV. She read through
the documents left by the investment Lottery people and worked out
some rough figures as to how much she should put in trust for the
children and how much to put away for her mother’s continuing care.
She read the report the bank manager had sent her and had to pour
herself a brandy as she read how much interest she was earning on a
monthly basis and she tried to learn a little more about stocks,
shares, interest rates and other financial matters.
    The only thing
she didn’t do was tell Daniel. Each evening he came home and told
her how hard his life was, how hard he had to work. And Rebecca did
what she had been doing for years, nodding in the right places,
serving his meal and waiting for him to shut up so blessed