Did I Mention I Won The Lottery?

by Julie Butterfield

  ‘Well, well,’ said Gwen finally. ‘What a story! And what a sad state of affairs.’

  ‘I know Mum I know!’ Rebecca hung her head in shame. ‘It was a terrible thing to do and it’s not really surprising that Daniel is so angry.’

  ‘Oh I don’t mean that my darling,’ Gwen shook her head. ‘I meant how sad that the only time you were actually happy is when you were living another life that didn’t involve Daniel.’

  Rebecca stared at her.

  ‘It’s something to think about Rebecca. You moved away from Daniel, you lived your own life albeit for a brief time and you were happy. Happier than I had seen you in such a long time.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ whispered Rebecca.

  ‘Oh I think you know what I mean my darling. I know that you’ve stayed with Daniel for many reasons but none of them the right ones. I know that you’re unhappy with him. And you were given a chance not many other people get, a little taste of life without him. And it worked for you Rebecca, it worked and the change in you showed the minute you walked through the door. Now you have to be brave. You have to sit and think, really, really think whether you are prepared to do something about it. Whether that little glimpse of life without Daniel is something that you want to keep.’

  Rebecca looked out of the window. Her mother was telling her to leave her husband.

  ‘It’s not that straight forward Mum,’ she said wearily.

  ‘Isn’t it? How much more straight forward do you want it to be? Do you want to stay with him? If the answer is no then you must want to leave him and for the first time in your life you can actually afford to do something about it.’

  ‘But I couldn’t leave him now. I mean, how would it look? I win money and walk out!’

  ‘It looks exactly how it is darling. Like you wanted to end your marriage and did so when the timing was right. But that’s a decision for you and you alone,’ she added briskly. ‘It’s not my decision or even Daniel’s decision Rebecca. Only yours.’

  And they drank another pot of tea and the subject changed to Parklands and the unhappy chain of events.

  When Rebecca was in the lobby searching in her bag for her keys Brenda Wendover came out of her little office.

  ‘Oh Rebecca can I have a quick word. Oh don’t look so worried, Gwen is fine. She’s a bit down at the moment, well most of them are but she’s okay. I’m just trying to give everybody as much warning as possible. Parklands is definitely going to be sold. The owner has decided the falling profits are too much to take and he’s put it on the market.’

  Rebecca’s hand flew to her throat in dismay. ‘Oh no!’

  It may have been something that she had foreseen could happen but faced with the reality it was still a shock. ‘When?’

  ‘Oh I don’t think it will be a quick sale. These things tend to drag on a little until just the right buyer comes along. I just wanted you to be prepared that’s all.’

  Rebecca nodded, forced a smile and went out to her car. Parklands as they knew it, gone. Gwen would be devastated. She loved it there. Realistically she could now live with Rebecca, they could make a suite of rooms for her on the ground floor, bring in help. Rebecca would welcome the company but she knew deep in her heart it wouldn’t suit Gwen. She liked her independence and at Parklands she felt she had just that. Oh she had a team of people on hand should she need them but she felt as though she was in control of her day. And she loved the company of people like Dotty who she had known for years. She was unsteady on her feet, forgetful and frail but she was surrounded by people who knew how she felt and gave her the respect and dignity that she needed.

  But where on earth would Rebecca find another place like Parklands. They were few and far between.

  Unless of course she bought it. She could afford to buy Parklands. Gwen would be guaranteed a room for life in her beloved home. The likes of Dotty could be accommodated with some kind of scheme. But it was a lot of money and it wasn’t really an investment. It would be just like buying another house, albeit a very large house occupied by lots of other people. But why shouldn’t she buy it anyway? She could afford it. Or at least, she could afford it if Daniel forgot this crazy idea to buy White's.

  Rebecca’s head ached. She didn’t know what to think or do next. The guilt she felt over deceiving Daniel was always present. But she could still see the flaw in his idea of buying a company because they wouldn’t give him a promotion. And it was so much money. Together with Parklands and the trust fund she had set up for the children it would reduce the balance of her winnings considerably.

  Her head aching, she arrived at home to the sounds of furious shouting from the study. Dropping her bag in the hall she tentatively peeped round the door. Daniel’s face was almost purple with rage and his voice was choked with anger. As she arrived he ended the call, throwing the phone across the room where it hit the wall, the battery bursting out of the casing and sliding across the floor to stop at Rebecca’s feet.

  She picked it up waiting for Daniel to speak. He threw himself in the chair, banging his fist on the desk top.

  ‘The bastard. The absolute bastard!’

  Rebecca put the battery on the desk and picked up the 2 halves of the phone.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Bloody old man White. The fool, the bloody bastard. He won’t sell. Said he doesn’t feel ready to retire, hadn’t thought of it until I mentioned it and he doesn’t want to sell.’

  The feeling of relief almost made Rebecca gasp out loud. No White's Packaging Corporation. That meant that she could realistically look at buying Parklands. It also meant that there was no reason for Daniel to stay in Darlington. No reason to have more arguments about the money. They could stay in Leeds, give life as the owners of several million a go. Maybe they could repair their failing relationship, get back to how things had been. It was the best news she had heard since confirming her win.

  She tried not to look too pleased for Daniel’s sake.

  ‘Maybe it’s for the best,’ she offered feeling like skipping around the room.

  ‘The best?’ Daniel looked at her as though she were speaking a strange language. ‘For the best? How can it possibly be for the best! Anyway, I’m not giving up as easily as that. I want White’s.’

  Rebecca’s hands stilled in their job of putting his phone back together.

  ‘What do you mean? If Tom White has said he’s not selling…’

  Daniel snorted. ‘Like I said Bec, what do you know about business? Everyone’s got their price and he’s no different.’

  There was a chill beginning to creep around Rebecca’s heart as she waited for him to finish.

  ‘I’ve told them to put another million on the valuation price. That would be White’s pay off. He’s not going to say no to that, I guarantee it.’

  He smiled. ‘He’ll say yes, he won’t be able to help himself. You just wait. I’ll have White’s.’

  Chapter 17

  It was pouring with rain. It bounced off Rebecca’s windscreen and blurred the oncoming traffic. She parked as close to the bank as she could but by the time she got there she was soaked to the skin.

  A few minutes later she was sitting in Richard Dickinson’s office with a cup of coffee in front of her and a towel to dry her hair.

  She smiled apologetically at him. ‘I’m so sorry Richard. I keep just turning up.’

  Richard smiled and shrugged his shoulders. ‘You are officially one of our best customers Rebecca. I can hardly complain!’

  Rebecca smiled and then drew out two sets of papers, only mildly damp, from the recesses of her handbag.

  ‘These are two - ventures that I’m thinking about at the moment. Would you mind looking at them and just giving me a general opinion?’

  Richard leaned back in his chair, took a sip of coffee and started to read.

  The night before, after Daniel had gone to bed, Rebecca had gone into the study and gathered together all the papers she could find about White'
s. The accounts, the valuation, every piece of paper Daniel had received she copied. She checked his emails and copied everything from the broker who had organised the offer, from Tom White himself, anything she could find. Then she had put Daniel’s papers back and made a neat pile of the copies. Early that morning she had phoned Mrs Wendover and asked who was selling the nursing home. She had called into the estate agents before going to the bank telling them that she was very interested but wanted more details. They gave her the current accounts for Parklands, the estate agents blurb which put a very positive spin on the whole venture and the glossy brochure which couldn’t quite hide the desperate state of repair needed in some areas and was honest enough to suggest that some investment was needed.

  It was these two sets of documents that she handed to Richard Dickinson and then sat back, trying to be calm and not fidget as he looked through the papers.

  Eventually he looked up at Rebecca sitting patiently in her chair.

  ‘You’re thinking of investing in both of these?’

  Rebecca shook her head. ‘I don’t think I should really invest in both, it’s a lot of money, but both are - options at the moment.’

  Richard paused, looking thoughtful. ‘Well, strictly speaking you could afford both. It would leave your capital quite low bearing in mind the costs that both of these projects could incur with future investment. It would also mean that you would have to be very careful about spending any more of the actual capital.’

  Rebecca nodded.

  ‘But I agree with you, it would be unwise in the extreme to actually go ahead with both.’

  He sighed, stretching out his long legs. ‘What is it you want me to tell you Rebecca?’

  Rebecca shrugged. ‘I know I’m not very knowledgeable about these things but one is clearly a good opportunity to buy a recognised and profitable business and the other is - well a project I suppose. No real gain to be made, that sort of thing. Am I right?’

  ‘You are,’ agreed Richard. ‘White‘s Packaging Solutions is a profitable business. It’s well established and has grown significantly over the last few years. But the recent valuation was at the very top end to begin with. It was a starting point for negotiation downwards. Your husband - I take it this is his project?’

  Rebecca nodded.

  ‘Your husband has just added 1 million to the asking price. It’s simply not worth it Rebecca.’

  Rebecca felt the room spin a little. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you will be paying far over the odds for a business that has just experienced a huge spike in its growth and is unlikely to see another of that size for some years. There is no possibility of improving your initial purchase without significant investment. In layman’s terms Rebecca, you are unlikely to get your money back.’

  It wasn’t the news Rebecca had expected to hear. She sat in silence.

  ‘Parklands on the other hand. Now that’s a different story. The business has been starved of funds while its natural assets, the building and grounds have been underutilised. There are 6 rooms on the upper floor which have never been renovated, space for 6 extra guests. The reception rooms are large, very large which means space available for expansion out of just residential care; courses for example, day visits offered via the many organisations in the county that look after the elderly. Parklands have never looked at temporary care, holiday stays for those whose carers need to take a break. Investment is needed but the whole business is ripe for growth and in the right hands is an ideal investment.’

  Rebecca stared at him. ‘You mean Parklands is a good investment and White's - isn’t?’

  Richard laughed. ‘I suppose that’s exactly what I mean Rebecca. Of the two investments I would definitely advise Parklands.’

  When Rebecca returned home Daniel was in quite a sunny mood. The level of determination he was showing to buy White’s was quite stunning and Rebecca couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if they came back and said no to his latest figure.

  ‘Where have you been?’ he demanded nursing a whisky as he looked past her into the torrential rain.

  ‘Oh, I just had a few bits and pieces to sort out.’

  Daniel grunted. He was not at all happy with this new relationship where Rebecca had things to do that she didn’t feel the need to share with him. It had been the other way round for so long.

  ‘By the way, Helen and Emma are coming round for lunch.’

  His face darkened. ‘What! What on earth for?’

  ‘Because they’re my friends and because they would like to see my - our new house and because I invited them,’ answered Rebecca calmly.

  ‘For God’s sake! Phone them up and cancel. We’ll go out for lunch instead. Save you cooking.’

  Rebecca watched him stomp off in the direction of the snug and the whisky bottle. Was it her imagination or did Daniel seem quite determined to keep her away from her two old friends.

  Putting her dripping brolly in the stand and hanging up her coat, Rebecca wandered into the kitchen, turned on the oven and started to unload bits and pieces from the fridge.

  ‘Have you phoned them?’

  Daniel was standing in the doorway.

  ‘No I haven’t Daniel. I don’t want to cancel, as I said they’re my friends and I want them to visit.’

  ‘So you’d rather see your friends than go out to lunch with me!’

  Rebecca stared at him for a moment and he had the grace to drop his gaze before adding huffily, ‘Well I hope you don’t expect me to make myself scarce, not in this weather. I’m staying for lunch as well, this is my house too don’t forget.’

  Rebecca chose not to point out that it was in fact none of the kind. The house was well and truly hers but she kept her mouth closed and carried on preparing lunch, taking out three wine glasses just as the doorbell rang.

  She was too late to answer it. Daniel was there, welcoming them as though it had been his idea all along. He had been upstairs and changed his shirt which he wore with a cravat that Rebecca had never seen before and stared at in disbelief.

  ‘Helen! Emma! How good to see you both after so long. Come in come in!’ and he took their brollies and wet coats and waved them in the direction of the kitchen.

  ‘Bet you couldn’t wait to have a peep at our new home eh?’

  Rebecca glared at him and stepped forward to kiss her friends.

  ‘Bloody Hell Bec - it’s gorgeous!’

  ‘It’s a palace - and I thought my house was nice!’

  Rebecca grinned. She couldn’t lie or pretend. She loved her new house.

  She let them admire the hall, ignoring Daniel’s attempts to get them into the kitchen. She showed them the snug and the study, the living room, the formal dining room, the vast conservatory and then led them towards the room she loved the most, the huge kitchen with its large dining table inviting you to sit down, the raspberry settees positioned in front of the French doors giving a view of a rain soaked but enormous garden and the little garden room next door that invited you to curl up beside the fire.

  Helen’s mouth hung open and even Emma who was far more accustomed to enjoying the finer things in life looked shell shocked.

  ‘Okay ladies, a little wine before we eat?’ Rebecca glared at Daniel who ignored her, seemingly determined to play the jovial host. ‘Rebecca pour your friends some wine. Sit down ladies, sit and admire. Come on Bec, get the wine poured.’

  Once the glasses were full Daniel insisted that they raise them in a toast to their good fortune, their wonderful house, the Mercedes that would shortly be arriving on the drive. He poured scorn on Rebecca’s little car and her lack of knowledge, told them that he had decided to buy White's because ‘they needed someone to take the helm after losing their way’ and generally monopolised the conversation while Rebecca silently took the quiche out of the oven, took the salad out of the fridge, cut the ciabatta into slices, laid out olives and relishes and a plate of new potatoes drenched in butter and drank her wine down in one go as she darte
d increasingly irate glances at the back of her husband’s neck.

  ‘So,’ interrupted Helen desperately as Daniel paused for breath and Rebecca finally sat down. ‘What’s it like Becs? Winning all that money, what on earth does it feel like?’

  ‘Oh you know Rebecca,’ launched Daniel, ‘she hasn’t a clue about business and how to control money and the like. She’s made some really bad decisions so far.’

  He looked smugly around the table. ‘You need a business head when you’ve got lots of money. I think we’ve decided that I’ll be making the decisions from now on.’

  The lunch was much shorter than it would otherwise have been. Having eaten, Rebecca took her friends into the toasty warm conservatory where they curled up with a cup of coffee and watched the rain lash against the windows. She suggested that Daniel may have work to do but he shook his head violently and said that’s what he paid others to do now and he insisted on joining them talking nonstop about his plans for White’s, his general importance in the business and Rebecca’s lack of knowledge about anything remotely resembling business.