Hoping Since Forever

One

Then

‘Oh, that’s nice!’

Sally Edwards touched the screen on her tablet to expand the picture she was looking at.

‘Hey, Herbert, what do you think of this?’

She tilted the device to show the cat who was curled up tighter than a cinnamon roll by her side and whose interest in deep-turquoise, roll-top baths with pewter claw feet was non-existent.

‘Hmm, I’m guessing it’s not your thing,’ she chuckled, as a wave of happiness flowed over her. Six months and two weeks ago, they wouldn’t have been her thing either. For a start off, you would never be able to get one in the door of their tiny, two-bed semi-detached house, never mind fit it in the bathroom which was so small they joked it had a wall-to-wall carpet tile!

Everything had changed, however, on the day she’d had a sudden desire for chocolate. A desire which could not be quashed and had resulted in a quick run down to the little newsagents next to the office where, on impulse, she asked them to throw in a lucky dip for the Euromillions lottery that night. As she was so rarely ever “In it to win it”, the ticket was shoved into her purse and forgotten about by the time she was back at her desk.

Sally glanced away from the stylish bathroom to check the time in the corner of the screen. Three o’clock. Her husband, Steve, would just about be signing the paperwork on his new car.

He’d asked her if she’d like to join him but she’d declined. This special moment was all his to savour and enjoy. He’d grown up watching the James Bond movies with his dad and like most boys, he’d dreamt of owning an Aston Martin ever since. Now his dream was coming true and she couldn’t be happier for him.

Her mind slipped back to when they’d realised they were the lucky winners of the ￡137million jackpot. It was a week after the draw and they happened to catch an article on the news talking about how the winner hadn’t yet come forward to claim their prize and that the winning ticket had been purchased in their town. Sally, suddenly remembering her impulsive purchase, had rushed off to find her purse and the lottery ticket lurking within and, after checking the numbers three times, had sat in a state of quiet shock for a long moment before asking Steve to take a look. In an instant, everything they’d only ever dreamed of had become a reality.

‘Not today, Herbie Baby, but soon. Very, very soon.’

She bookmarked the link of the house she’d been admiring and shut down the device.

‘Coming with me to make the lasagne, sweetie? There’ll be mince…’

But her big marmalade fluff-ball simply pulled his paw tighter over his snout and let out a little huff.

‘Yeah, you say that now. I give it fifteen minutes till you’re under my feet, trying to cadge a bit!’

She gave his head a gentle rub and headed towards her itsy-bitsy kitchen where she began to prepare their meal for tonight. The plan was that Steve would collect his car, come home to pick her up and while the lasagne was baking in the oven, take her out for a spin.

She let out a quiet curse at the jar of spice that fell out of the cupboard when she opened it. She enjoyed cooking but the kitchen simply wasn’t big enough to accommodate all the ingredients she liked to keep to hand which meant all the cupboards were stuffed to overflowing.

Not for long though, she thought, with a smile, not for long.

Like most people, she and Steve had had the “If we won the lottery” discussion and they’d agreed that should they ever be the recipients of “a big one”, they’d keep it to themselves for six months. No one would be told – not even their families – for they didn’t want the press all over them nor did they want fake friends crawling out of the woodwork looking for handouts. After a time, they’d tell those closest to them that they’d recently had a lucky windfall and lead them to think the value now residing in their bank account was considerably less.

As she sprinkled the herbs into her mince, Sally thought over how difficult it had been to keep their secret and act as though nothing had changed for them. Steve had been champing at the bit to get his car and she’d been driving herself daft viewing all the property websites, looking for their new home. But they’d managed to be patient and were now rewarding themselves for sticking to their plan.

It didn’t take long for the lasagne to be created and she popped it inside the microwave, out of Herbert’s way, until Steve arrived home when it would be transferred to the oven to cook. Another glance at the clock told her it was almost quarter past four. Steve would be home any moment so she ran up the stairs to change her top and give her hair a quick brush. After all, one didn’t want to have one’s first drive in an Aston Martin looking like some kind of street urchin!

An hour later, Sally found herself pacing up and down the lounge. Steve should have been home by now. The dealership was only ten miles away and even with weekend traffic, it shouldn’t take this long to get home.

The afternoon sun was streaming in the window and glinted on the glass of their wedding photograph. Three years they’d been married; three wonderful years. From the first time she’d met him, in a pub in Lichfield, Steve had made her laugh. And he’d carried on making her laugh ever since. With his sticky-up, bright ginger hair, big blue eyes that always seemed to be twinkling and a wide mouth that never stopped smiling, he had the ability to make everyone around him feel happier just by being in his orbit. He gave out happy vibes and everyone benefitted.

She picked up the photograph and ran her fingers softly over his face.

‘I love you,’ she whispered.

She held it in her hands for a few more seconds and then replaced it on the mantlepiece next to the clock which had added a further thirty minutes to her waiting time.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Steve, where are you?’

She picked up her mobile and swiped through until his number came up. After a brief hesitation, because she didn’t like phoning him when she knew he was driving, she hit the call button.

“Hi, you’ve reached Stevie Eeeeeeeeeeeeee, leave me a message and if it’s a good one, I’ll call ya back!”

Despite her ire, she smiled. The sound of his voice did that to her. She left a message asking him where he was and to call her if he could.

She plonked herself back down on the sofa next to Herbert who, having just eaten his own dinner, was going through his bathing ritual. He turned his back on her, expressing his disgust that he’d been fed some slop out of a sachet and not the homemade lasagne he’d seen being prepared.

She picked up her tablet again, this time with the intention of checking for traffic delays on the route home from Derby, when there was a knock at the door.

‘And about time too, wouldn’t you say, Herbs? And so typical of your daddy to make a big show of the event by knocking the door. D’ya wanna bet I’ll get hit with a “Tah-da!” when I open it?’

The door knocker went again just as she was putting the key in the lock.

‘Okay, okay, I’m here… hold onto your six-hundred and seventy-one horsepowers!’

Yeah, she even knew the horsepower of the new family baby. Steve had gone on about it long enough and some of the info had clearly sunk in.

‘What took you so long— oh!’

It wasn’t Steve standing on the doorstep.

‘Mrs Edwards? Mrs Stephen Edwards?’

She looked at the two police officers in front of her and felt a sudden kick of fear in her stomach. The blood in her veins turned to ice and she had to grip the door to hold her upright.

‘Yes,’ she managed to squeeze out from her now tightly constricted throat.

‘May we come in?’