Diary of a Lottery Winner's Daughter (4 page)

Friday 27th August

Because it was the last day of the holidays, we went out in the car and ended up at Glastonbury. It had me and Spencer in hysterics; it had loads of witchy shops which sold weird things that you’d probably need if you were a witch. There were clothes shops selling velvet lined cloaks and black, floaty dresses. There were shops which sold cauldrons and ceremonial knives and one shop sold dried powders and unspeakable things in jars. It was seriously weird. I was pretending to myself that I was a Hogwarts student wandering round Hogsmead and I got so carried away I almost asked for a butterbeer when we went to a café for lunch.

The weather cleared up a bit so Dad and Spencer decided to climb Glastonbury Tor. I was tempted to go with them but I wanted to find out what had happened to Chelsea yesterday.

Mum said she wanted to look round the abbey and Chelsea groaned and said there was no way she was going to spend time staring at a pile of old stones. I would have liked to have gone with Mum because they say King Arthur is buried there and it’s kind of romantic. But I said I’d go with Chelsea who wasn’t too pleased but didn’t argue. It was like she was too depressed to bother. She walked off as if I wasn’t there and I was left to trail behind. Eventually she sat down on a bench and got her phone out. She was checking it for texts but I don’t think she had any. After a while I asked her what was up.

‘Nothing,’ she said, as I knew she would.

‘I know where you went yesterday,’ I told her,’ and it wasn’t to the cinema with Zoé. You sneaked off to Sophie’s party.’ That gave her a shock.

‘Do Mum and Dad know?’ she said, all panicked. But it was obvious they didn’t or all hell would have broken out.

‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘So what was it like then? Was it really good?’

Chelsea didn’t say anything. I was about to tell her that if she didn’t tell me all about it, I was going to tell Mum and Dad where she’d gone (not that I would, but Chelsea didn’t need to know that), but when I looked at her, I saw that she was trying not to cry. A tear had escaped and was about to fall off the end of her nose. I didn’t have the heart to threaten her when she was in that state and I was just resigning myself to the fact that I’d never know what had happened when she said, or rather squeaked,’ I got to the party - I was going to surprise Josh - but when I got there I found him in the hot-tub with Sophie and they were . . . they were . . .’ She couldn’t carry on and had got all snotty, so I rooted around in my pocket and found an old tissue. Chelsea took it gratefully which just goes to show what a state she was in.

In case I was in any doubt about what exactly Josh and Sophie were up to in the hot-tub she finally managed to blurt out,’ He was snogging her! I’m never talking to him again. Or her.’

I did feel sorry for Chelsea because she’s fancied Josh forever and he had invited her to the party after all, so I didn’t think it was unreasonable of her to be upset. Well, upset is a bit of an understatement - devastated, more like.

And then Sophie was really mean to me and was laughing and said what made me think that Josh would be interested in me . . . and she said my bikini was chavvy and cheap-looking . . . it cost me thirty pounds!’This started her off sobbing again and I couldn’t blame her. That’s a whole month’s pocket money for her. And now she’d never be able to wear it again because of the bad memory.

‘And then she told me to get back to the council estate where I belonged.’She’d stopped crying now. Her face had set into a furious mask.

‘Living on the Ratcliffe estate doesn’t make me a bad person,’ Chelsea said.

I suspect the real reason Sophie was mean had more to do with Josh than where Chelsea lives. Sophie has been perfectly happy to let her hang out with them - until Chelsea started to show an interest in Josh. That’s when Sophie decided Chelsea wasn’t good enough. I wondered if I should point this out but decided that Chelsea wouldn’t want advice from a twelve-year-old.

‘Just forget about it,’ I said. ‘She’s not worth it.’

I’ve never understood why Chelsea wants to be friends with that crowd in the first place. I mean, they go skiing in the winter and abroad to places like Bermuda in the summer. What did she have in common with them?

Chelsea was back to normal now, apart from a red nose, and we could see Mum coming.

‘Don’t you dare tell anyone any of this,’ Chelsea said quickly. I just hoped that by the time we all got back to school it would have blown over.

The last night of the holiday was much better. We had a barbecue and Dad put some music on and showed us how to dance - which meant that really he was showing us how
not
to dance - but we didn’t tell him that. Chelsea was even in a good mood which was a huge relief; only I couldn’t help worrying that it was because she was planning her revenge on Sophie.

By bedtime we were all finally in the holiday mood, which was a pity because we had to get up early the next day and pack up to go home.

Saturday 28th August

In the car on the way home, Mum and Dad were talking. I think they thought we were asleep. Spencer was sitting on one side of me with his head back, snorting occasionally and breathing out salt and vinegar crisp smells. Chelsea was on the other side, her head at an uncomfortable angle and dribble coming out the side of her mouth. Not her most attractive look. I had my eyes shut so that I didn’t have to see these things. Typical. They had the window seats and I was stuck in the middle with nothing to do and the battery on my MP3 player had run down. Bored, bored, bored.

‘I think they’re getting too old for these caravan holidays,’ said Dad.

‘I know what you mean,’ said Mum,’ but it’s either that or going to stay with my parents.’

There was a silence while they thought about that and I smiled to myself. Not that there’s anything wrong with Grandma and Grandpa exactly. They live in Norfolk, though, which is miles away, so we don’t get to see them much. I always get the feeling that they don’t approve of Dad. I think it’s got something to do with the fact that we live in a council house. Whatever, they don’t come and visit us because there’s no room. At least, that’s their excuse.

‘It’s not even as though camping is a cheap holiday any more,’ Dad complained. ‘There’s the price of petrol for one, then what they charge to sit in a field is just daylight robbery, if you ask me. Not to mention what we paid out in food and tea trying to keep warm on the sea-front. And the only thing the kids wanted to do was put money in those machines . . . ‘

Then they were quiet for a bit, and I wondered if I ought to say something so they knew I wasn’t asleep because I felt like I was eavesdropping on a private conversation. I didn’t bother though, because then they started talking about stopping somewhere on the way home so Mum could buy her weekly lottery ticket. In fact, it nearly turned into an argument, because Dad didn’t want to stop with a great big caravan stuck on the back of the car, but Mum insisted and said if he went to the Tesco outside the town he’d be able to park easily and she needed a few things for next week’s packed lunches and she didn’t want to go out again once she got home. I could practically hear Dad grinding his teeth but he didn’t refuse like I know he wanted to. Mum and Dad hardly ever argue. They know when to give and take.

But Dad was obviously annoyed, because he started going on about what a waste of money the lottery was and how people were fools for doing it because they were never going to win and it just raised false hope in people. He said it was always the poorest people who spent the most on it because they were the most desperate. He hated it when he heard people say,’ Oh well, when I win the lottery . . . ‘ because he wanted to shout at them that they were never going to win it and they should be spending the time they were thinking about what they’d do with the money they were never going to have by thinking about how they could improve their lives ‘in reality’. He was definitely off on a rant.

Mum said she agreed with him, but the problem was she had these numbers every week and she just knew that if she stopped doing it her numbers would come up. Dad said that’s how they got you, and how would she ever know the numbers had come up if she didn’t check them.

That’s when I did fall asleep.

I woke up in Tesco car park. Mum and Chelsea had gone in because Chelsea never passes up a chance to shop. I wished I’d gone in as well though, because Dad was still going on about the lottery.

When Mum and Chelsea got back in the car, Mum was really quiet and Chelsea looked even more sulky than usual. I was worried that they’d had a row in the shop.

When we got home I helped Dad and Spencer take everything out of the caravan. Chelsea had gone straight inside and put the television on. I thought it was really unfair that she didn’t have to help but Mum, who would have made her, had disappeared. By the time we’d finished I was wondering where Mum had got to. Normally she’d be in the empty caravan, giving it a serious clean before it went back to Antie Sheila’s.

Spencer was in the kitchen raiding the biscuit tin and Chelsea was slumped on the sofa. It’s amazing how everything gets back to normal so quickly after a holiday. I decided to go round to Lauren’s and went upstairs to tell Mum. The bedroom door was shut and I was about to go in when I heard Mum give a sort of screech. I hesitated, then the door was flung open by Dad.

‘I’m just going round to Lauren’s,’ I told him. ‘See you later.’

‘No, wait,’ said Dad. ‘Mum and I will be down in a moment. Go and put the kettle on; your mum’s got something to tell you all.’ I looked over his shoulder. Mum was sitting on the bed with the phone pressed to her ear.

I joined Spencer in the kitchen. There was definitely something up. Why was Mum on the phone? Had someone died? Then Mum and Dad finally appeared with Chelsea trailing along behind.

‘This had better be good,’ Chelsea was complaining,’ I’m in the middle of something,’ like
The Jeremy Kyle Show
was important or something.

And that’s when it happened. The earthquake. Not a real one, this is England, but it was like an earthquake in the family and nothing would ever be the same again.

Spencer and Chelsea started fighting over the last Jammy Dodger when Mum said in a sort of quavery voice,

‘I’ve just won the lottery.’

There was a moment’s silence when everyone just stared at her. So she said it again.

‘We’ve won the lottery.’

Then everyone was talking at once. ‘What do you mean?’ (me). ‘It’s only lunchtime, they haven’t drawn it yet.’ (Spencer). ‘How much? Another tenner?’ (Chelsea).

Mum waited until we’d all shut up then said,

‘It’s £3. 7 million.’

Chelsea started screaming. Spencer got up and started to do a wild dance round the kitchen; Dad was laughing and hugging Mum. I made the tea. I put a lot of sugar in Mum’s mug. After a while my face started to hurt because I couldn’t stop smiling. When everyone had calmed down a bit, Spencer said,’ I still don’t get it. The lottery hasn’t even been drawn yet. Is this some sort of joke?’

Mum explained what had happened. When she got into Tesco, she’d filled in this week’s lottery numbers and when she went to pay she found last week’s ticket in her purse and realised that she’d never checked it because of the last minute panic about going on holiday. So she handed it to the cashier for him to put in the machine to check. He told her it was a winning ticket and that she needed to ring the number on the back of the ticket. Then the other cashier looked over his shoulder and said,’ Oh my God,’ and they’d both stared at her with their mouths open. Then she realised that if she didn’t get out of there quick there was going to be ‘a scene’.

Mum hates ‘scenes’, so she grabbed the ticket and grabbed Chelsea, who was looking at the magazines and hadn’t heard anything, and dashed out of the shop. She hadn’t even done her shopping. Then when she got in the car she didn’t want to say anything in case someone (she looked at Chelsea when she said this) started screaming and she didn’t think she could cope with that in such a confined space, and she was worried that Dad might crash the car and she knew he likes to concentrate when he’s got the caravan on the back, so she kept quiet until we got home.

‘Where’s the ticket?’ asked Dad.

Mum put her hand down her blouse and rooted around in her bra. Mum has what Dad refers to as ‘an ample bosom’, which means she’s got huge bazoomas and I could see Dad was getting worried because she could easily lose it in there. On the other hand, it was probably the safest place because no one was going to mess with Mum’s bazoomas.

Mum found the ticket and Dad took it as if it was going to bite him. Spencer had sat back down and was munching on the biscuits again and Chelsea was just sitting there going ‘Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God,’ over and over again. Then she stopped and looked like a light had gone on in her head.

‘Do you mean to say,’ she said,’ that we’ve been millionaires for a whole week and all the time we were in Weston-super-Mare we could have been living it up in the south of France, or somewhere?’

‘Yes,’ said Mum in an awed voice. ‘Just think, we were millionaires all week and we didn’t even know.’

‘I can’t believe it!’ screeched Chelsea. ‘We could have gone to Las Vegas or Miami, or Bermuda or . . . or . . . Florida . . . or She was desperately trying to think of all the places she wanted to go when Spencer chipped in and burst her bubble.

‘Actually,’ he told her,’ we couldn’t have gone anywhere like that because none of us have got passports and there wouldn’t have been time to arrange it.’

‘I don’t care,’ said Chelsea. ‘Anyhow, we could at least have gone somewhere nicer, like London, and stayed in a five star hotel and gone shopping all week and to loads of shows and stuff.’

‘Yeah, like that’s what the rest of us want to do!’ said Spencer.

Everyone was quiet while we tried to take it in. For about three seconds - and then we all started screaming again. Mum took the ticket off Dad and tucked it back into her bra.

‘Are we going to be on the telly?’ said Chelsea, getting all excited again.

‘God forbid,’ said Mum. ‘We’ll have to tell our friends, I don’t see how we’re going to be able to keep it a secret, but I don’t want a big fuss or anything,’ she said, looking worried. ‘It would look like we were showing off.’

It all got a bit weird after that. Dad said, lottery win or no lottery win, he had to take the caravan back to his brother. Mum said she’d go with him because she couldn’t wait to see the look on Auntie Sheila’s face when they told her.

So much for not showing off, I thought. But I couldn’t blame her. Auntie Sheila is always rubbing it in that they’ve got more money than us. I was almost tempted to go with them just to see her face, but I wanted to go round to Lauren’s; I’d promised her I’d go as soon as I got back from the holiday. Mum told me to invite them back for a drink and a bit of food later to celebrate.

‘Nothing fancy, just family and close friends. We’ll pick Grumps up on our way back.’

It was weird us all going our separate ways. I felt like something so enormous had happened that we should all stick together. I had butterflies in my stomach but I don’t know if it was from excitement or nerves. Maybe it was just adrenalin. I ran all the way to Lauren’s to try to get rid of the jittery feeling. Pam, Lauren’s mum, opened the door.

‘Mum’s won the lottery,’ I yelled. If it was a reaction I wanted, I certainly got one. Pam screamed which brought Lauren running down the stairs and her dad in from the garden. It took me a while to convince them it wasn’t a joke and I had to explain that it was last week’s ticket and we’d only just found out. There was some more screaming before Pam went off to ring Mum and congratulate her because Pam’s been my mum’s best friend since they were at school together.

‘I can’t believe it,’ said Lauren. ‘You are
so
lucky!’

I flopped down on the sofa, exhausted from all the screaming. Lauren sat down next to me.

‘I can’t believe it,’ she said again. ‘I’m so pleased. You’re so lucky. Really, it’s great. I’m so pleased for you.’ I wondered why she had to say it so many times. I looked really hard to see if she meant it. I think her mouth was smiling at me but her eyes weren’t sure.

‘Whatever,’ I said to lighten the moment. ‘It’s only money.’

‘Yeah, it’s only money,’ she said back at me and pushed me over so I fell into the cushions. We ended up having a cushion fight and the moment passed. I mean, why wouldn’t she be pleased?

Then Mum rang my mobile and said she’d got Grumps and they’d been to the supermarket, but not Tesco in case she was recognised, and we could all come back to the house and celebrate.

It was a funny sort of party. Uncle Ron turned up (apparently Auntie Sheila was suffering from a migraine, probably brought on by our good fortune, according to Mum). Grumps was looking happy for a change. Pam was helping Mum in the kitchen and Lauren’s dad, Gary, was helping Dad with the barbecue. Spencer and Chelsea didn’t invite anyone, but I had Lauren who’s like part of the family anyway.

We were in the back garden messing around.