The Birthday Card

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The Birthday Card Page 14

by Pauline Barclay


  Pushing the thought of a cigarette to the back of her mind, Doreen sat in silence and held on to her daughter’s hand; with her other she gently stroked the shrug. Nothing had prepared her for such a beautiful thought from her Trisha. She squeezed Trisha’s hand tighter. ‘Thanks again,’ she said.

  The journey to the bank passed in a blur, Doreen’s mind going over and over everything that had happened over the last few days. She felt she was in a dream and would be woken up to the sharp reality of her life at any moment.

  ‘Trafalgar Square,’ the driver announced pointing out the famous fountain.

  Doreen looked out of the window. She had seen the fountain many times in her life, but never from the back of a car.

  As the car slowed, she caught sight of the name, Drummonds, carved in stone above the bank’s entrance. A shiver ran down her spine at the impressive building. Suddenly she did not feel as smartly dressed as she had moments ago. Maybe wearing sombre clothes like Trisha would have been more appropriate. Realising her mistake, she bit at her finger nails. Not taking her gaze off the bank, Doreen was taken aback to see Gavin from Watford standing outside the entrance. Had he told her he would be there? She couldn’t remember, but she was more than happy he was.

  ‘Mrs Wilkinson and Miss Wilkinson, we meet again,’ Gavin said, his voice as welcoming as his smile. ‘And may I say you look fabulous.’

  Doreen blushed. ‘Thanks. It’s a bit better than my jeans and trainers.’

  Gavin smiled at her.

  ‘You’ve no idea how pleased I am to see you,’ Doreen added, letting him air-kiss her on each cheek.

  ‘I did mention I would be here, though with so much to take in it is understandable some things get a little forgotten. However, no worries, we are all together now, so let’s get the official stuff over with and then you can relax,’ Gavin said and taking hold of Doreen’s elbow he steered her through the entrance. ‘I promise you it is all straightforward and the people at Drummonds are wonderful. You’ll see, I promise.’

  Entering the iconic building, Doreen could not believe they had walked into the bank that was used by royalty. The nearest to a bank she had ever walked into was the Post Office and her only connection to royalty had been when her mum showed her the commemorative mug she had bought when Prince Charles and Princess Diana were married.

  ‘You OK?’ Gavin asked noting Doreen’s pensive face.

  Doreen looked up and nodded, she would never be OK again.

  A smartly dressed man headed towards them. Gavin stopped. ‘Now, ladies, this is where I leave you...’

  ‘Surely not,’ Doreen interrupted.

  ‘No need to worry, you will be in good hands with Chris Baxter. I promise.’

  Doreen weighed Chris Baxter up with scepticism. Why could Gavin not stay with them?

  ‘Hello, Mrs Wilkinson and Miss Wilkinson, my name is Chris and I am here to make it as seamless as possible in opening your new bank account. And, we have a few special surprises too for you both.’

  ‘We’ve had more than our share of surprises,’ Doreen said, ‘not sure we’re up for any more.’

  Ignoring Doreen’s remark, Chris said in an affable tone, ‘Come along, and let’s go and find somewhere private and comfortable,’ he indicated they needed to head towards a corridor to the left.

  Doreen remained on the spot, ‘Gavin, are you sure we’ll be OK?’

  ‘I promise,’ Gavin said and winked at her. ‘You will leave here later today and wonder why you stood here asking me that question.’

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ Doreen said, ‘I’ll be holding you too it.’ She let out a giggle, what was she like? Come on, Dor, get your arse into gear and find out if the queen’s about, she giggled again.

  ‘Glad your giggle’s returned,’ Gavin added. ‘And, tomorrow you’ll meet Stephanie Rawlinson, and you’ll like her too. Now, please go with Chris, get your bank account sorted, and enjoy your spending spree.’ Gavin took hold of Doreen’s hand, about to shake it he moved forward and give her a little hug. ‘By rights I should not be doing this, but I think you need it and I also think you are going to have a wonderful life from now on.’

  ‘Gosh,’ Doreen said, that was the last thing she had expected. ‘Bye,’ she called, her voice lost in the milieu of clients meandering around as she watched Gavin leave the building.

  ‘Come on, Mama, onwards and upwards, we are supposed to be opening a bank account sometime today,’ Trisha said as Gavin disappeared in to the busy streets of London.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Doreen had no idea how long they had been talking and signing papers. It was as Gavin had told her, straightforward, and everyone was kind and helpful. Chris had gone through everything in great detail to ensure she understood it all. She did not, but she was sure, in time, it would fall into place and, of course, her Trisha would be there, not only to help, but to spend her winnings too!

  ‘Well, Mrs Wilkinson, that’s about all there is to do. We will set your account up immediately and the money will be in your new account tomorrow. I can assure you it will be plain sailing especially with your amount of money. There is nothing to worry about, your credit and debit card, and of course a cheque book, are all you will need to spend your fortune,’ Chris Baxter said.

  ‘Blimey, I wasn’t expecting it to be so easy. I’ve never had a bank account.’ Doreen said, relieved it was over.

  ‘Your input helped enormously, now don’t spend it all at once,’ Chris said, chuckling, tapping the papers Doreen had signed.

  ‘As if,’ Doreen giggled and looked at Trisha. Thinking about what she was going to spend her money on, a packet of ciggies for a start. Instantly she regretted that thought, she was desperate for a smoke. Don’t think about it, Dor, concentrate on getting hold of your winnings. You can’t buy fags without money, she thought. It was all well and good saying everything was in order, but she could do with a few quid now. Her thoughts travelled to her lips and she blurted out, ‘That’s all fine, but when do I get my cards and cheque book? Sorry to ask, but I’ve already spent last week’s wages.’ Part of her regretted asking, but she needed to know.

  ‘I understand, but you will never have to worry about your wages again and you will have everything before you leave today,’ Chris said, reaching over and giving Doreen a reassuring tap on her arm.

  ‘Now,’ Chris said removing his arm. He reached into a cupboard at the side of his desk and pulled out a large box. Using both hands, he placed the presentation box on the table. Getting to his feet, his face lit up with a smile, ‘Please let me present this to you,’ as he spoke he handed over the wooden box.

  Doreen jumped up, what was this? She reached over and took hold of the box. ‘Lordy, lordy that’s a bit heavy,’ she gulped. ‘What have you got in there, a brick from Drummonds’ chimney?’ she giggled. ‘Can I open it?’

  ‘Of course,’ Chris replied watching Doreen finger the box.

  ‘What do you think it is, Trish?’

  ‘We’ll never know unless you open it,’ Trisha replied, ‘so open it.’

  Sliding the lid open, Doreen gasped, ‘Oh my goodness. Trish, feast your eyes on this, it’s the biggest bottle of champers I’ve ever seen and it’s with two glasses,’ she said, her eyes sparkling. It probably cost more than her entire weekly wage. With trembling fingers, Doreen lifted the glasses out. She stared at the expensive crystal, ‘Can you believe this, they’ve got the Lottery logo on them,’ she cried flashing them in front of Trisha.

  ‘By the way, the bottle is a magnum of champagne,’ Chris said pointing towards the box. ‘A magnum is equivalent to two standard bottles of champagne,’ Chris added.

  ‘Blimey,’ Doreen whispered looking at the large bottle. ‘I’ve never had one bottle let alone two!’

  Chris smiled, ‘I’m sure you are going to enjoy many bottles of bubbly in your new life. And, talking of fine champagne, we have a lunch date.’

  Doreen gripped the stem of the glasses. ‘Oh, blimey, I’m s
orry; we didn’t mean to keep you. Now all the business is over with we can be on our way.’ With less caution than when she had lifted the glasses out, Doreen pushed the champagne flutes back in the box, slid the lid shut and attempted to lift it.

  Mirth filling his face, Chris jumped to his feet. ‘Goodness, we have a lunch date, we,’ he emphasised the word we. ‘Mrs Wilkinson, it is our pleasure and honour to invite you and your daughter to lunch at the bank.’

  She had not seen that coming.

  ‘Please leave the presentation box here and it will be brought to you before you leave. Now, however, it would be a great delight, if you would allow me to show you a few of our special areas.’ Taking the box from Doreen, Chris placed it on his desk then manoeuvred the two ladies to the door.

  Doreen smoothed down her shrug and her earlier thoughts of not wearing sombre colours vanished. She felt perfectly dressed to dine at the bank. Of course it was all nerve racking, but with her Trisha at her side they were getting through it all admirably. And now they were going on a state visit. How special was that?

  ‘You alright, Trisha?’ Doreen asked slipping her arm into her daughter’s.

  ‘What do you think, Mama?’ Trisha responded, a smile filling her beautiful face.

  ‘Now, please follow me, we are going to ride in the very lift that was installed for Her Majesty, the Queen Mother. The lift will take you to the Board Room where lunch will be served. Many well-known and famous people have dined there, including Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher,’ Chris enthused leading the way.

  Doreen had no idea who Margaret Thatcher was, but felt weak at the knees knowing she was walking in the footsteps of famous people.

  ‘Here we are,’ Chris said approaching the lift. Pressing the button, the door immediately slid open. Doreen stood stock still. ‘Blimey, I can’t believe I’m about to step in a royal lift.’ Without moving, she gazed at the tiny space. ‘We ain’t all going to fit in there, surely?’ she declared.

  Chuckling, Chris explained, ‘It is rather small, a little like a tall cupboard, but baring in mind it was only for the Queen Mother, it was not necessary to be any larger. So, for today, you and your daughter will be VIPs and ride the lift. It will only be a short journey and I will hike up the stairs to meet you before the door opens.’

  Doreen remained silent at the privilege that was about to be bestowed upon them.

  ‘Come on, Mama,’ Trisha urged, placing her hand on the lower part of Doreen’s back and gently nudged her, ‘we can soak up all the pomp and history as we ride with the shadows from the past.’

  ‘OK, ladies I will see you on the next floor,’ Chris announced, his finger poised on the button to close the door.

  The door closed silently and Doreen shivered at the thought of ghosts, but loved the idea they could be watching her.

  Within moments the lift stopped and the door slid open.

  ‘Here you are,’ Chris announced, waiting. ‘Now wasn’t that something amazing?’ he asked.

  Stepping towards him, Doreen nodded, unsure she could find the words to describe the experience.

  As they left the lift, Trisha noticed an old painting of Drummonds hanging on the wall; stopping, she studied the detail.

  ‘It is rather interesting,’ Chris said standing at her side. Raising his arm he pointed to a strange mast on the roof of the original building, ‘We have no idea what it was,' he said, 'it looks like a radio mast or receiver, but of course in the late 1700s there would have been no such thing, so what it is remains a mystery.’

  Trisha peered closer, then with a flourish of her hand announced, ‘Well, it seems obvious to me. It's a lightning conductor mast. Benjamin Franklin invented them.’

  Impressed, Chris spoke, ‘Goodness, you may well have solved our little mystery.’

  Trisha shrugged her shoulders. ‘It seems a reasonable thought.’

  Doreen gaped in astonishment. How had she produced such a bright, intelligent offspring - a girl who, apparently, knew even more than these posh people at Drummonds Bank!

  ‘Indeed,’ Chris said, moving towards a large picture window. ‘Here,’ he indicated, ‘you can gaze down on some of the famous iconic sights of our capital city.’

  Walking towards the window, Doreen and Trisha stood shoulder to shoulder staring out on to the streets of London.

  ‘If you look this way,’ Chris said waving his hand, ‘you can see Trafalgar Square, also a view of Admiralty Arch. Quite something to see from our vantage point, don’t you think?’

  ‘Breath taking,’ Trisha said fascinated by all she could see in front of her.

  As Doreen and Trisha took in the wonders of the city, the shrill from whistles broke into their concentration.

  ‘What was that?’ Doreen asked, not taking her eyes away from the road below as traffic slowed and moved over to the side before stopping. ‘Goodness, what’s it all about?’ she added, noting pedestrians hurrying, many running to the side of the road, jostling to get as close to the kerb as possible.

  ‘This happens when someone important or royalty travels though the city,’ Chris explained, ‘it can be a daily event at times.’

  As Chris spoke a cavalcade of police motorbikes and, blue flashing lights, came into sight followed closely by several black cars. ‘Those are security cars,’ Chris announced and then pointed to a limousine following behind them. ‘That is the dignitary’s car,’ he added.

  With her nose a fraction from the window, Doreen, stared down at the black, stretched, car, ‘Oh my God, I think it’s the queen.’ Dropping down, she attempted a curtsey. ‘Ma’am,’ she cried then standing up straight waved manically in the hope the queen could see her.

  ‘Oh, you are so priceless,’ Trisha laughed, ‘I’m not sure it’s the queen,’ she added, but joined her mother waving.

  Chapter Thirty

  ‘Don’t know whether my tears are cos I’m laughing or crying. What a day it’s been,’ Doreen said dropping down on her sofa and kicking off her shoes, the zip on her dress wide open. ‘I don’t think I’ll forget today for the rest of my life.’

  The lunch they had been invited to turned out to be a banquet. Half the food that had been offered she had never heard of. Determined not to show how ignorant she was, she had tasted all that had been offered, though she had stumbled with the cutlery. What was it with so many knives and forks? Thankfully no one made a fuss. Running her tongue round her mouth she could still taste the smoked salmon. A strange taste, but something she would like to try again.

  If the cutlery had puzzled her, the names of the dishes had her bewildered. She could not pronounce any of the names and, if she was honest, there were times when she was not sure what she was eating. When it came to the pudding, she had refused, already feeling bilious with the rich food.

  Trisha had eaten like it was her first and last meal.

  Doreen rubbed her tummy at the memory of such an exquisite experience and giggled. Maybe she should learn to cook fancy dishes now she could afford plenty of food, though fish and chips would always remain her favourite, and from the chippie.

  With the thought of all the money that would be in her new bank account, Doreen grabbed her handbag, rummaged through it and pulled out her purse. Opening the wallet she took out the two most important pieces of plastic she had ever seen. Drummonds Bank was embossed on the top of each and her name at the bottom.

  My God, it had all been real. She was rich.

  ‘Look Trish,’ she said, her voice filled with excitement, handing over the cards, ‘I still can’t believe it. You know, nothing in the world could have prepared me for such a day. We had a ball, didn’t we? Tomorrow we’ll have a spend up and splash some cash. School’s out for the rest of the week.’

  Trisha sat next to Doreen, her feet dangling over the edge of the sofa’s arm. ‘I’ll high five on that,’ Trisha said, extending her hand and slapping it against her mother’s palm, ‘but before we raid the shops, first we meet with Stephanie Rawlinson.’


  ‘Why?’

  ‘You know why, Gavin told us that we had a meeting with her in the morning. She’s the one that’s going to advise on what to do with all your dosh.’

  ‘Blimey, he did didn’t he? I’d forgotten about that with all the excitement at the bank, but having said this, I don’t need anyone to tell me, I know what to do.’

  ‘Maybe, but let’s get some help first. You have won a serious amount of money and, believe you me, we need help and protection.’

  Doreen thought about the last word Trisha said: protection. Living here was not the best of places and she would need to be on her guard. Her brow furrowed at how the neighbours would kick off once they knew she was loaded. It was not a pleasant thought. She felt a dark cloud hovering threatening to spoil her day. No, she silently said, she must not think about this, certainly not now. If there was a down side to winning a fortune, it would, in time, raise its ugly head and she would deal with any fuss if and when she had to. Right now she was going to continue to celebrate

  ‘My belly might be full of all that rich food, but we need to end the day with a bang,’ she said taking back the cards from Trisha and tucking them into her purse. ‘We’ve waved at the queen, we’ve eaten like royalty, and tonight we are going to drink like millionaires. Tomorrow we will go and see this Stephanie and find out what she has to say, but for now, we’ll open that big bottle of bubbly. Even you can have one.’ Doreen said her sparkle returning. Easing herself up from the sofa, she pulled down her dress and padded to the kitchen.

  Without ceremony, she opened the presentation box sitting on the surface top and lifted out the bottle and glasses. ‘Give us a hand, Trish,’ she called placing the glasses down before peeling off the foil wrapper from the champagne bottle.

 

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