Doreen looked down at the sandwiches then at her daughter. Overwhelmed with it all she did not trust herself to speak, instead nodded and mouthed a thank you. Trisha never failed to surprise her and for all her youth she was a very caring girl. She loved the bones off of her.
Gavin rose and walked over to his desk, leaving the two ladies to have a few moments to enjoy the refreshments. Rustling several papers, he shuffled them together. A few minutes later with the pile in his hand he returned to the sofas.
Her sandwiches untouched, Doreen did not miss the papers in Gavin’s hand as he returned and wondered how many more questions would be asked. They seemed endless.
Taking the sofa opposite, Gavin sat down and laid the papers at his side. ‘Don’t look so concerned,’ he said gently, ‘it’s all onwards and upwards from here. We just need to check one or two details, sign a few forms and then everything will be tickety-boo,’ he added his voice steady and reassuring. ‘It’s normal when someone wins such a large amount and you, Mrs Wilkinson, have hit the jackpot.’
Still clutching the plate of sandwiches, the word jackpot echoed round in Doreen’s head. The lady on the phone had said that word. A warm feeling trickled through her veins at the idea she had scooped a jackpot.
‘Jackpot! I’ve never seen or heard of anyone who has scooped a jackpot.’ Doreen almost choked on the words because saying them meant it must all be real.
‘Mrs Wilkinson, your jackpot is…’ he halted and looked at the paper on the top of the pile. Making sure he had eye contact with Doreen, added, ‘You’ve won eleven million, three hundred and fifty-four thousand, two hundred and ten pounds… and nineteen pence.’
Doreen dropped the plate, the sandwiches falling on to the wooden floor, prawns spilling out, her face radiated wonderment. ‘Oh my God… Oh my God. The lady was right. It is real.’
‘Oh yes, I am absolutely certain. Here, take a look,’ Gavin pushed the sheet of paper with the jackpot details under Doreen’s nose.
‘Look, Trish, look, can you believe it?’
Wrapping her arms around her mother, Trisha hugged her tight. ‘That’s why we’re here, Mama.’
Of course that was why they were here, but it was impossible to believe. Overwhelmed with the reality of her win, tears trickled down Doreen’s face.
‘Oh no,’ Trisha cried, picking up a clean serviette and reaching over, gently mopped at her mother’s face. ‘Don’t cry you have nothing to cry for anymore. You, we, are seriously rich.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
In a daze Doreen answered all the questions she was asked and scribbled her signature on several forms, her win slowly sinking in.
‘One final question,’ Gavin said, his pen held between finger and thumb, ‘now please think carefully before you answer… do you want publicity or anonymity?’
Doreen’s face glazed over.
Noting Doreen’s expression, Gavin frowned, ‘Do you want to have your name splashed across newspapers for everyone to know or do you prefer to keep your win private?’
‘Newspapers, you say?’ Doreen asked already imagining her name and face splashed across the red tops. Oh my, oh my, what fun it would be. She had seen winners on the front pages of newspaper’s and a few winners in top-named magazines, their beaming faces looking beyond happy. She could imagine the flash of cameras and see large bold headlines splashed across the dailies. For the first time since she had arrived at the lottery offices, she was beginning to think she was going to be rich. Her imagination ran riot. Excitement building, Doreen turned to Trisha, ‘What do you think, Trish?’
Clapping her hands with glee, Trisha beamed. ‘We will be so catapulted to stardom. What a hoot. Can you imagine it all?’ With exhilaration bubbling over, she squealed, ‘Oh, Mama, why not? I say you go for it.’
Soaking up her daughter’s enthusiasm, Doreen hesitated, ‘What do you think?’ Doreen turned her attention to Gavin.
‘Mrs Wilkinson, I can’t influence you. It must be your decision.’
‘What about begging letters and all that?’ Doreen asked.
‘It does happen, but as I said, it is your decision. Whatever you decide it will be honoured,’ Gavin said in a firm voice.
‘Tisha, what should we do? ‘
‘As the man said, we’ve got to make the decision,’ Trisha’s excitement spilling over.
Doreen took in the radiance of her daughter’s face and jumped up, ‘Well, I’m gonna say yes. Why not, it’s not everyday someone like us comes up trumps. Yes, let’s go for it.’ Clapping her hands with glee, she dropped back down on the sofa. ‘Trish, we’ll make it a day to remember, you’ll see.’
Maintaining a smile that betrayed nothing about Doreen’s decision, Gavin leaned forward. ‘If you are happy and absolutely certain this is what you want, we will organise everything.’
‘It is,’ Doreen confirmed holding Trisha’s hand, ‘it is.’
‘In that case,’ Gavin said, ‘and, I am sure you have guessed by now, I need you to sign another form.’ Riffling through the pile of papers at his side he plucked out a green sheet. ‘Here we are,’ he said laying the paper down on the low table. Handing over a pen he asked Doreen to sign. ‘Here, please,’ he added pointing to the area Doreen’s signature was required.
With a flourish she had not used before, Doreen signed her name. ‘There we are,’ she said handing back the pen to Gavin. She had not expected there would be publicity. If she was honest she had no idea what she expected. Even the amount she had won was mind boggling, she was sure she would never get her head around just how much it was.
‘Of course we will arrange the press conference, the venue etc.,’ Gavin said breaking into Doreen’s dreaming. ‘We’ll make sure we have a celebrity there to hand over the cheque and make a fuss of you. The press will be there to get your story and make a splash across their papers.’
‘Never!’ Doreen said clapping the palms of her hands over her face. Removing them, cried, ‘You mean to say, I’ll meet someone famous?’ Turning, ‘Trisha, did you hear that, we’re gonna meet someone famous. I can’t believe any of this.’
Doreen jumped to her feet and reached across to fling her arms around Gavin’s neck. Forgetting herself, she dropped a kiss on his clean shaven cheek. ‘Blimey, boy, you’ve no idea what all this means, it’s gonna change our lives forever.’
Doreen’s bosom filled Gavin’s face and he raised his arms in an attempt to gently release her grip.
‘Mama,’ Trisha cried springing up. ‘Let the poor man get some air.’
Releasing her strangling grip, Doreen looked down at Gavin, ‘Blimey, my apologies, I just had to do that,’ she said, wondering what had come over her.
Flushed with Doreen’s exuberance, Gavin spoke, ‘No need to apologise, I understand.’ Catching his breath and in an attempt to maintain his composure, he fussed with his tie and ran his fingers through his hair. He coughed and continued. ‘It is a monumental moment for you and I fully understand,’ he wiped the palm of his hand over his forehead, then continued. ‘We have just a couple of more things to go through and then we should be finished. Because you have agreed to go public, we do ask you to keep your win to yourselves until the presentation. We don’t want to let the cat out of the bag before the newspapers can splash the headlines across the nation. They like nothing more than a sensational story.’
Doreen silently giggled as she listened to Gavin’s serious voice, what had she been thinking, hugging and kissing him? It was naughty of her, but it was impossible not to do.
‘Crikey, that’s not gonna be easy. The thing is, I will have to tell some people, if not I’ll lose my jobs. It’s easy for you, but if this money don’t come through soon, I’ll be in queer street. I’m already behind with my rent and then there’s the slate at Mr Greedy’s,’ she spread her arms wide to indicate how fragile her finances were.
‘Rest assured, Mrs Wilkinson, your money will be with you in a matter of days. We need to set up a bank account and o
nce that is done, you can access your winnings. Of course I can’t stop you talking to your employer. And, there is the possibility you might not want to go back to work once everything is sorted. However, if the news gets out before the big presentation, then it could be cancelled, therefore, I urge you strongly to be wise who you talk to.’
Crestfallen, Doreen nodded her understanding. ‘I’ll be careful,’ she whispered, all the levity of moments ago dissipated from her voice.
Gavin smiled, ‘Goodness, no need to look so worried. Just think of the surprise your friends and colleagues will have when they see you splashed all over the papers.’
Doreen nodded.
Gavin continued, ‘I can imagine it must be impossible to keep all of this to yourself, but the publicity gala will be a day you will remember for the rest of your life, and of course, it will take place very soon, too.’
‘Really?’
‘Indeed,’ Gavin said.
‘Trish, did you hear that, just a few days?’ Doreen turned and hugged her daughter and giggled loudly.
Reaching down, Gavin sifted through the papers now on the floor. ‘I need to give these back to you,’ holding his hand up he handed Doreen the items she had brought for proof of identity. Without looking at them, Doreen stuffed them into her bag.
‘We just have two more issues to consider and then we are done,’ Gavin said relief tingeing his words and at the same time topped up Doreen’s cup up with tea.
Doreen turned to her daughter, ‘OK, Trish?’ she mouthed and waited for Gavin to tell her what the two issues where.
‘So you can access your funds, we will set up a private account for you. I advise a different bank to the one you have at present…’
‘Bank account, blimey, I ain’t got one, never had enough dosh to put in it,’ Doreen cried out, cutting Gavin off mid-sentence, then stopped as quickly as she had started. What was she thinking, talking like that? ‘Sorry, but no I don’t have a bank account.’
Gavin’s winning smile returned and beamed across his face, ‘That’s no problem. You can choose which bank you would prefer to use, but ...’
‘I only know the Post Office and…’ Doreen interrupted
Gavin raised his hand to stall her, ‘I don’t think we need to consider that one. Can I advise Coutts, the Queen’s bank, or Drummonds where the Queen Mother, God rest her soul, used to bank.’
‘Oh, my giddy aunt. Royalty, you say?’ Doreen grabbed Trisha’s arm in her excitement, hearing her wince, released her grip. ‘The Queen Mum’s bank or the Queen’s,’ she said to Trisha as if her daughter had not heard. ‘Can you believe it, me being asked which bank I would like, a royal bank, one the Queen Mum used?’
A perplexed expression filled Trisha’s face, she shook her head, ‘Unreal, I know. How do we answer this one; The Queen Mother, the queen, what does it matter, the most important thing is, the money is put somewhere that we can access.’ Trisha said matter-of-factly.
Taking in Trisha’s words, Doreen turned back to Gavin and in a breathless voice, she said, ‘If it’s all right with you, we’ll go for the Queen Mum’s bank.’ Doreen wondered when all the surprises and shocks would end. Here she was, sitting in a posh room, sipping tea from a matching cup and saucer and being told about the Queen Mum’s bank. Could it get any better?
‘Drummonds it is, then,’ Gavin said gleefully making a note. ‘We are moving forward,’ he added. He placed his pen down on the papers and continued. ‘You will also need a solicitor and financial advisor.’
‘Really?’ Doreen said weakly, when she thought everything was going fine with the newspapers and bank, it seemed she needed much more. Why? she wondered. She had been on this planet over three and half decades and had never needed a solicitor, not that she would have been able to afford one. As for the other, a financial advisor, what was one of those?
‘Maybe this is not the right moment to discuss these,’ Gavin said. ‘So let’s not worry about these matters right now. Leave it with me and I will sort everything out. Let me say a taxi will collect you in two days’ time to take you to the bank and we will sort the other matters out then.’
Her elation had lasted barely moments, now feeling confused about it all, she played with her napkin, looking down she saw she had shredded the soft paper. Instead of a rich thick napkin, it looked more like a dog had gnawed at it. Why was this such a seesaw ride? Fiddling with the tatters of her napkin, she blurted out. ‘I’ve heard so much and I’ve tried my best to take it all in and perhaps I’ve missed something along the way, but the real question is, when do we get the money?’ Of course she sounded rude and desperate, but she was broke.
‘As soon as your bank account is set up and that will be done when we meet in a couple of days. At that meeting we will explain how you can access your funds. I have mentioned this, but maybe I had not been clear enough… sorry.’
Doreen felt terrible asking and maybe the lovely man had told her when she would be able to spend her winnings and as much as she had tried to take it all in, she could not.
Gavin reached forward and to Doreen’s surprise he took hold of her hand, ‘Mrs Wilkinson, I have tried to explain to you that we will have everything sorted in a couple of days and then you can spend your money. I am sorry we can’t do it sooner.’
Seeing the kindness in Gavin’s eyes, Doreen knew everything was going to be all right, she just needed to be patient and try and focus on what had been said and what was going to happen. ‘Trisha,’ she said looking at her daughter who was helping herself to another slice of cake, ‘you got everything Mr Gavin told us cos I’ll be relying on you to remember it all?’
‘No probs, Mama, I’m your eyes and ears from now on,’ Trisha said before biting into another piece of chocolate sponge.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Doreen barely slept a wink. The events of the day had gone round and round in her head. One minute she was sweating with excitement, then freezing cold at the thought she still had got it all wrong.
What was the matter with her? Unable to lay still any longer, Doreen slipped out of bed and wrapped herself in her large, snuggly, cardigan.
The flat was like an iceberg. It was probably warmer outside, she thought. She shuffled into the kitchen and lit one of the gas rings on the oven in an attempt to warm the place. ‘Sod the gas bill,’ she said, blowing out the match used to ignite the gas. She filled the kettle then placed it on to the flaming ring.
The clock on the wall showed ten past six. By rights she should be getting ready for work. Part of her said she should go in and carry on as if everything was normal. She would like to do that, but no way would she be able to keep her mouth shut. Gavin had told her to keep silent. Clearly he had never won anything big or he would know that asking her to zip it for now was near on impossible. She had already made up her mind that she was going to tell Jan, but not until tomorrow night. She wanted to get the bank visit over with and then she would be certain she had the money.
Her mind wandered to the publicity Gavin had told her about. She giggled and tried to imagine what would happen. She pictured herself wrapped in a celebrity’s arms, smiling and looking like a million dollars as the flashes went off from all the cameras. What a lark and she wondered who the celebrity might be. Would it be a pop star? Maybe a film star? ‘David Beckham,’ she said out loud knowing his background. ‘Now look at him, a famous multi-millionaire,’ she said to the kettle as it started to boil.
‘I promise you, if you carry on talking to yourself they will take you away,’ Trisha said, slouching into the kitchen wearing a pair of black fleecy pyjamas and a scarf wrapped round her neck.
‘Bloody hell, Trish, stop doing that. You’ll finish me off with a heart attack if you don’t,’ Doreen yelled almost dropping the mug she was about to add a teabag to.
Trisha tutted and reached over to grab a mug. ‘Surely you’re not going to work,’ she said placing her mug next to her mother’s and waited for the kettle to boil.
&nb
sp; ‘No, just couldn’t sleep. I’ll let Jan and Mr Drew know later and tell them I’ve got the trots. It’s not far from the truth with my upset guts. You, however, is going to school. I’ll need you with me tomorrow when we go to the bank so you can have tomorrow off.’
‘You are seriously not meaning this?’ Trisha squealed with indignation.
‘I am. I don’t want the school asking questions about where you are, not today at any rate.’ Doreen did not miss the pout on her daughter’s face. ‘And before you argue, the answer is no. OK?’
Trisha looked on as Doreen poured water over the teabag before dropping the bag into her mug. ‘I don’t suppose…’ Trisha said sulkily.
Doreen stopped Trisha before she could say anything else. ‘I said, I aint arguing, but if you go to school today, you can accompany me to the bank and to the publicity shin-dig. That’s the best I can do, so have we got a deal?’
Turning her back on her mother, Trisha gave herself a high five, ‘Yes,’ she hissed under her breath and twizzled the teabag round in her mug of hot water and watched the water change colour.
Doreen tutted loudly at Trisha’s lack of response, ‘OK, it seems I’m on my own with the celeb. And who knows, it just might be David Beckham.’
Dropping the dripping teabag in the sink, Trisha cried, ‘I never said I wouldn’t go to school, but there is simply no way you can go to the bank or the publicity thing on your own. You need a bodyguard.’
Doreen laughed loudly, ‘You are priceless. I’ll never know how I gave birth to you.’
‘Nor will I,’ Trisha chuckled rolling her eyes.
‘You’re a cheeky mare, but whatever we do, we’re in it together. So get ready for school and then we’ll talk about our day out tomorrow. And whilst you’re at it, bring me a piece of decent paper and a pen. I need to write a note to school about you not being there tomorrow.’
The Birthday Card Page 12