The Winners, page 3
‘Geoff’s mum has Daisy for the day, so I thought if you’re up for a bit of celebratory shopping, today would be the day!’ Kate looked at her mother, knowing what the answer would be.
‘Ooh yes, count me in! What about you boys?’
‘I could quite fancy checking out that new computer superstore at the retail park. How about it, Dad?’
Malcolm couldn’t help but grin at the spark of excitement gleaming in his son’s eyes. With a nod of agreement, the four of them quickly made plans to split up and then meet again for lunch before embarking on an adventure to chase their wildest dreams.
‘Watch out world! The Graingers are coming!’ Danny exclaimed, practically bouncing down the garden path.
CHAPTER SIX
‘We headed to Debenhams, and honestly, asking for a personal shopper was the best decision ever – we were treated like royalty!’ Kate’s eyes sparkled with excitement; her smile was contagious.
Malcolm chuckled, glancing at his wife and daughter, who were practically glowing after their shopping spree. The number of carrier bags piled high was a clear sign that this wasn’t just any shopping trip, it was a delightful indulgence for the two of them, an exhilarating treat they could finally afford.
‘The personal shopper gave us amazing tips on the latest trends!’ Kate beamed at her dad, secretly tucking a few bags under the table. ‘I had no idea my old wardrobe was so out of style. I’m definitely going back later this week to snag that stunning blue dress I tried on. Fingers crossed it’s still there!’
Dan’s purchases included a new laptop with a smart leather case to keep it in and a top-of-the-range phone. Malcolm wouldn’t have known how to use it, but Danny seemed delighted with his buys, insisting on listing the merits of each one. He may as well have been reciting the telephone directory as far as the others were concerned.
The family were seated in an upmarket restaurant, a venue they wouldn’t normally consider patronising, but it was a celebration. ‘Didn’t you find anything you wanted, love?’ Julie reached for Malcolm’s hand and squeezed it.
‘Not really, there’s nothing I need, but I’m treating myself to the steak here!’
Julie’s hand moved to his knee as she leaned in close and whispered, ‘I bought some rather sexy new undies!’ Malcolm blushed and hid his face in the menu. It was more than apparent how this money could bring happiness to his family. Neither of his children lived beyond their means, so a few extravagances were in order. This was also put into practice when they ordered their meals, as they selected without checking the price on the menu first.
‘I did think we could look on the net to see about a holiday, somewhere warm where we can all go together, Florida perhaps?’
Mal’s words fetched a squeal of delight from Kate. ‘Disney World!’ she cried. ‘Oh, Dad, I’ve always wanted to go, it’ll be fantastic!’ The topic led to more plans and excited chatter. Malcolm decided that for the rest of the day, he would try to enjoy their good fortune without crossing bridges and anticipating events that might never happen.
When Malcolm returned to work at the town hall on Tuesday morning, he was still unsure whether to stay in his job. Common sense told him not to make any hasty decisions; he needed time and space to think things through.
Julie, on the other hand, had already handed in her notice at the school, where she worked part-time as a dinner supervisor. She had agreed to stay on for the rest of the month to give them time to find a replacement. Malcolm just hoped she wouldn’t rush in and announce their win to everyone. Her excitement was hard to contain, and he couldn’t blame her.
Still, he understood and fully supported her decision to share the news with Susan. The sisters had always been close, and Malcolm was just as thrilled as Julie that they could finally help her financially. He planned to transfer a generous sum into Susan’s account during his next visit to the bank.
Julie didn’t want to work out the notice period, yet didn’t want to let the school down either. Although it wasn’t the best job in the world and certainly not the highest paying, she enjoyed it and, over time, had formed firm friendships with her colleagues. The headteacher had sounded genuinely sorry when they spoke on the phone the previous day. Julie explained that she needed time off for personal reasons and wished to tender her resignation. Naturally, she’d miss the children, but there were so many options available to them, courtesy of the lottery win, and the idea of spending more time with their grandchildren was appealing. There were holidays to take, perhaps a new home to look for, and being tied to working hours would restrict their activities.
Hopefully, Malcolm would eventually agree; his reaction to their win was something of an enigma, almost as if he didn’t want the money. As Julie pondered their good luck, something she hadn’t stopped doing since Saturday, the phone rang, catching her as she struggled into her coat before leaving for work.
‘Mrs Grainger?’ a female voice enquired.
‘Yes?’
‘Hi. My name’s Penny Jones. I’m a reporter at the Argos Local, the free paper for the area.’
‘Yes, I know it.’
‘I’d like to congratulate you and your family on your recent win. You must be delighted!’
Julie wondered how on earth this young woman knew. It was only Tuesday, and they hadn’t told many people about it yet.
‘Er, thank you, but how did you find out?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, is it a secret? I’m a friend of your son’s wife, Angie. We were at school together, and I saw her out with Danny last night while they were celebrating. Perhaps you would like to share your good news with our readers. Everyone loves a good story – such a change from the constant bad news – and as our paper’s only a local readership, I hoped you would let me do a piece on your lottery win?’
Julie was perplexed and didn’t know what to say. This girl was undoubtedly good, making it sound like everyone would be so pleased for them, but alarm bells were ringing. Julie had a strong feeling that Malcolm might not like it. ‘I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time, Penny. I’m on my way out to work. Could you ring later, perhaps this evening, when my husband will be home?’
‘Certainly, Mrs Grainger, I’d be delighted to! So, you’re still going to work, are you? And your husband?’
Julie had visions of the girl making notes of everything she said. ‘Erm, nothing’s been decided yet. Sorry, I must go…’
‘I’ll speak to you later then. Goodbye, and thank you so much for talking to me.’
Julie was trembling. The news was out. Angie couldn’t have known they didn’t want publicity, or Malcolm didn’t anyway. She’d let Mal talk to the reporter later and decide for them, although she had an inkling she knew what he’d say.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘Why on earth did Angie have to tell a perfect stranger our business?’ Malcolm wasn’t pleased to hear about the reporter’s phone call.
‘She wouldn’t mean any harm by it. Danny probably never thought to tell her to keep it quiet. And it was an old school friend, not a stranger, and a nice girl. You can speak to her this evening and decide what to do.’
‘I will, and I’m going to call the kids and ask them to keep quiet about it all.’ He stomped off to make the calls while Julie went to the kitchen to prepare their evening meal, wondering why he was so determined not to share their good news. Sometimes, she couldn’t understand her husband at all.
Malcolm took Penny Jones’s phone call later that evening and could see how his wife had been cajoled into speaking to her; the woman was persuasive. Surprising even himself, he agreed to answer a few questions over the phone and to allow a photographer to call around the following evening.
‘You can be in the photo, and the kids if they like, but I’ll pass.’ He told a delighted Julie afterwards. ‘Penny already knew the details and was going to run a story, with or without our input, so I thought it better to answer the questions, then at least the facts will be right.’ Mal wasn’t overjoyed at the prospect of publicity but was appeased by it only being a local rag with a small circulation. Julie kissed his cheek, and he smiled, pleased at her delight. The family had always come first and last for Malcolm Grainger.
The article appeared in the Friday edition of Argos Local less than a week after the Grainger’s lottery win turned their lives upside down. It wasn’t quite front-page news; a factory fire claimed that particular spot, but it featured on page four under the unoriginal headline ‘£22m lottery win for local family.’
Underneath was a photograph of Julie and the children, looking rather stiff and posed, holding champagne glasses, which were actually filled with apple juice, and grinning unnaturally at the camera.
‘Oh goodness, look at my hair. I must make an appointment to get it styled.’ Julie grimaced at the photo.
Malcolm was relieved they’d got the facts right and not printed their address, which he’d insisted on. However, he was somewhat disappointed they’d printed the amount of their win. He hoped the matter of publicity would now be dropped, and they could carry on their lives with some degree of normality.
The incredible, almost unbelievable amount of money was currently sitting in their bank account, having been transferred, as promised, earlier in the week. During his lunch break, Malcolm intended to visit the bank to transfer a million pounds into each of their children’s accounts and half a million into Susan’s account.
As for the bulk of it, the lottery company had scheduled an appointment with a financial adviser the following week. He’d do nothing until then. Julie, who was still in a state of euphoria and considering new ways to spend the money, declared that investing seemed a tad boring.
The lounge was presently cluttered with exotic travel brochures and estate agent leaflets. She claimed these were only pipe dreams, and they didn’t have to move unless they agreed. Malcolm, however, could read between the lines, and although remaining quiet on the subject, he wasn’t entirely against moving house; he was simply anxious for their lives not to change beyond recognition or too soon. They’d always been happy with things the way they were – uncomplicated, comfortable and certainly not extravagant.
The following Saturday, another celebration meal was planned, this time including friends; they didn’t care about the bill and were determined to enjoy themselves. It seemed they’d eaten out every day, and Malcolm longed for a simple meal of pie and chips. On Sunday, he intended to visit his father again, and a wave of sadness washed over him as he reflected that all this newfound money couldn’t change his dad’s circumstances. Sadly, there were many things money could not buy.
Bill Grainger was still very much aware of current affairs outside his small room. His little portable television was turned on for the news bulletins at least twice a day, and although conversations were very one-sided, he was always keen to hear local news from those who cared for and visited him.
On Friday morning, a member of staff, who’d connected the local newspaper article to his patient, brought in a copy of Argos Local and read it aloud to Bill with unconcealed envy. Each word brought a chill to Bill’s weakened body as his mind raced with the possible ramifications of his son being in the public eye. By the time Malcolm arrived to visit that afternoon, Bill had mentally lived every possible scenario, none of them good, which could befall his family. His eyes told his son he knew about the article in the paper.
‘Ah, you’ve heard about the publicity then?’ Malcolm chewed on his bottom lip.
A slow, one-eyed blink confirmed it, and Malcolm pulled a chair closer to the bedside, speaking in an overly optimistic tone. ‘Never mind, Dad. It was so long ago, ancient history, and the Argos is just a local paper. It’ll never reach Liverpool, and even if it did, who would connect the name to us now? People have moved on, forgotten, so don’t worry, will you?’
Bill tried a reassuring smile, but only half his face responded as always. His son took out the Telegraph, which was already folded on the crossword page they hadn’t finished on Sunday and read the clues to his father, although neither man had the heart to finish the puzzle.
Bill very soon asked about the family. Julie? he typed, and Malcolm smiled as he related some of his wife’s shopping expeditions, described the new spring in her step and her more outrageous ideas of how they could use the money.
Not all these ideas were selfish, though, and he laughingly told Bill of her plans to donate money to all the local animal shelters, joking about how there would be several cats and dogs better looked after than himself if Julie had her way. Then there were the overseas orphanages she’d been viewing on the internet. Although he was delighted and proud that his wife wished to use the money for such projects, he confessed to a degree of alarm when she suggested visiting some of these places to see the needs first-hand. It was all very altruistic, but Malcolm had never taken to foreign food, and even the heat of a British summer was becoming too much for him these days.
She’ll settle down, Bill typed, and his son smiled in agreement.
‘I know, Dad, and I know that all this money won’t change my Julie. She’s always been one to put others before herself.’ As it neared time to say goodbye, Bill grew almost agitated and again typed on his electronic pad, Never chance to talk.
‘Talk about what, Dad? The past?’
Yes, Mum.
‘I know. There’s so much I don’t remember, but my memories of Mum are good ones, and you always emphasised the positives when I was growing up, which is all I needed to know.’
My boxes, Bill typed.
‘The ones in the attic, what about them?’
Journals.
‘I haven’t opened those boxes since your stroke. I’m keeping them for when you get better.’
Bill gave his lopsided smile to his only child. They both knew this was a fantasy. He typed again, Read them.
‘Okay, I’ll have a look when I get home, but you get some rest. Afternoons are made for dozing and I’ve kept you talking far too long.’ Squeezing his father’s hand, Malcolm kissed his forehead and left the room, Bill’s eyes following him until he was out of sight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It took only a few days for Julie to realise how much the lottery win would change their lives. Change could be good, she told herself, especially not having to worry about paying the bills and being able to treat the children. But not everything was better.
Each day, dozens of letters were brought in the post, mostly begging for money – people they didn’t know trying to put them on a guilt trip in the hope of a handout. Mal suggested she didn’t open them, yet Julie couldn’t resist, and there was always the chance some could be genuine, and if they were in a position to help, well…
‘We should have gone for the no-publicity option,’ Malcolm moaned, not for the first time.
‘It’ll settle down. We’re a novelty at the moment. Can’t you just enjoy it instead of looking for the negative side of our good fortune?’ Julie felt mean when they disagreed; they’d always had such a close and loving relationship, yet the win appeared to have changed her husband. Malcolm was more introspective than usual and no longer shared his thoughts. It was difficult not to snap at him. Couldn’t he be more excited like she and the children were?
Julie tore open another envelope and started reading.
Dear Cousin Julie,
I hope you’re doing well! You may not remember me, but I’m your great-uncle’s stepdaughter’s cousin. I’ve been meaning to reach out for some time, and I’m so glad I finally found your contact details – it’s wonderful to reconnect with family!
I wouldn’t be reaching out like this if it weren’t truly urgent. I’m facing a serious medical situation that requires a procedure not covered by standard healthcare, and I’m in need of private funding. I know this is a significant request, but any support you could offer, whether financial or simply advice, would mean the world to me.
If there’s any possibility you could assist with a contribution of £50,000, it would quite literally change my life. More than anything, I’d love the chance to recover and finally meet in person.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. Family is incredibly important to me, and I feel so grateful to have found you. I’d love to stay in touch, regardless of your decision, and I hope to hear from you soon.
With warmest wishes,
Imogen
Shoving the letters to one side, Julie sighed. ‘Well, that’s a new angle. Do these people think we’re idiots? I’m going into town after I’ve done my housework. We’ll get a Chinese for tea.’
‘Can’t we have egg and chips? I’m getting fed up with takeaways; we seem to live on them since we won the money.’
Without answering, Julie pressed her lips together to avoid saying something she regretted and went upstairs to get ready. Malcolm shouted up the stairs as he left for work, and her answer was little more than a grunt.
Housework occupied Julie for a couple of hours, and then she caught the bus into town. Feeling peckish, she decided to treat herself to a toasted sandwich and a caramel latte in Costa. It was a small branch, but then Burnbridge was a small town. Julie collected her order and found a seat in the corner furthest away from the door and the constant draughts. The latte tasted good and she bit hungrily into the sandwich, polishing it off quickly.
Julie’s attention was caught by a man weaving past her table, balancing a coffee and a doughnut. He misjudged the space and brushed against her arm. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ he said, turning quickly. ‘It’s a bit of a tight squeeze in here…’ His eyes darted around searching for an empty table, but every seat was taken.
‘Please, sit here,’ Julie offered. ‘I’m not expecting anyone, and you can’t exactly stand and eat your doughnut.’ She smiled at his momentary hesitation.
