Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
L ost in a daze, I check the information on how to claim my prize, and discover I need to call a dedicated telephone number. Unsurprisingly, it’s closed for the day and I have no choice but to wait until the morning – however, my night doesn’t end there. I mean, how can it? This is the equivalent of having three cans of Red Bull for a night cap and expecting to drift peacefully off to sleep.
Cat and I are so wired from the shock and excitement that our bedtime plans are hastily abandoned in favour of hot chocolate and fantastical chit-chat, and by the time we finally part company for bed, we’ve mentally spent my winnings several times over.
I carefully place the ticket in my bedside drawer and try to go to sleep, but it inevitably becomes a frustrating night of tossing, turning, and continuously checking it’s still there. It’s ludicrous because I have absolutely no reason to be so paranoid – and obviously I’d trust Cat with my life – but things like this never happen to me.
At some point I must finally doze off, because I’m woken just after eight a.m. by the sound of Cat crashing around the flat in a very un-Cat-like way.
‘ Morning, ’ I call to her, after checking the ticket is still nestled safely in my bedside drawer. ‘Everything OK?’
I hear something fall to the floor, followed by a brief yelp of pain.
‘ Morning, ’ she calls back from the kitchen. ‘Sorry, everything’s fine, but I’m super late. I slept through my alarm.’
‘Eek, I’m sorry. You’re only late because of me.’
‘No, don’t worry at all. I should still make the start of the weekly management meeting.’ She appears in the doorway briefly with a toothy smile and a thumbs up, then disappears again.
‘How about I buy you dinner later to make up for it?’ I decide on a whim, then jump out of bed and join her in the hallway. ‘Or, even better, I’ll buy you all dinner as thank you for your support these past couple of weeks.’
‘There’s no need for that.’ Cat hops around on one foot trying to do up her ankle boots. ‘Are you even feeling up to going out?’
‘I’m sure I’ll be OK if I’m with the three of you. And I know there’s no need. But I want to show you girls how grateful I am for your post D-day support. Yours especially, of course.’
‘OK, sounds great.’ She heads for the door. ‘But make it somewhere cheap and cheerful.’
‘Uh-huh.’ I only semi-agree to this, because I already have a place in mind. ‘Oh, and I want to surprise Amber and Sara, so don’t say anything to them.’
‘My lips are sealed. Good luck with your call.’
Once I’m alone, I look around the silent apartment, suddenly apprehensive about making the call to the lottery people. I’ve checked the details over and over, but what if I’ve made a mistake? In my heightened state, I consider calling Aunt Lottie first – a habit well-ingrained in my daily life – but then think better of it. I’d hate to get her excited, and then find out I’d got it wrong.
Just make the bloody call, Emma.
Grabbing my mobile, I take the ticket out of the drawer and dial the number on the lottery website.
‘Good afternoon, you’re through to the UK Lottery claims line. My name is Sumaira. Can I take your name please?’
I freeze. ‘Oh… hi. I think… I’ve won a shedload of money,’ I trumpet down the phone, then curse myself for not being more cool and collected. Or starting with my name, as requested.
‘No problem, madam. Let’s see if I can help you. Please can you give me your name?’
Sumaira has clearly dealt with my breed of idiot before.
‘My name is Emma… Emma Blake.’
‘Thanks, Emma. Now, please can you give me the draw date and the numbers on your ticket?’
I keep tripping up and talking over her as I relay the information. It takes three attempts to get it right, and she has to read it all back to me, to make sure.
‘OK, thanks for that, Emma,’ says Sumaira. ‘Give me a moment to check this, please.’
She’s so calm and professional, it makes me feel like a hummingbird on amphetamines. Hold music plays in my ear for what feels like an eternity, and I realise that I’m holding my breath. Exhaling, I try to breathe normally, but it’s like I’ve forgotten how to do it. This causes me to panic and while I’m getting myself in this little flap, Sumaira comes back on the line, shocking me back to normality.
‘Sorry to keep you. Could you give me a note of your address and telephone number, and I’ll arrange for one of our lottery advisers to call you back, hopefully in about an hour.’
‘Sure.’ I give her my details. ‘Wait, does that mean I’ve won? Or have I got it wrong? Oh no, I knew this would happen. I’m so mortified. Please don’t tell anyone I called.’
In my renewed panic, I’ve missed that Sumaira’s trying to get my attention.
‘Emma? Emma, can you listen to me for a moment? Please just stay calm. Perhaps take some long deep breaths.’
‘OK… OK… really sorry about this,’ I say, between huffing and puffing.
While I fight to get my breathing under control, I can’t help wondering if people ever die of shock when they find out that they’ve won. Or worse, that they haven’t, like me.
‘Emma? Are you OK now?’ Sumaira asks.
‘Yes, yes, I’m fine.’ I’m consumed by embarrassment.
‘Glad to hear it. Let me explain the process to you. I can’t confirm anything over the phone. Your lottery adviser will do that once they’ve met with you and verified your ticket. They have to do those checks because we do receive claims that are not genuine.’
‘What, you mean my ticket might be fake?’ I’m horrified at the thought. ‘But I bought it from a shop with a lottery machine. It wasn’t some dodgy back-alley deal.’
‘It’s just a precaution, Emma. Most are genuine, but unfortunately, there are people out there who try to make money in dishonest ways. Mistakes can also happen too. All I ask is that you stay calm and open-minded until the relevant checks have been done. ’
‘OK, sure, I can do that,’ I say, knowing fine well that I can’t.
On hanging up from my call with Sumaira, I sit and wait, watching the second hand go round and round the clock on the wall. Never in my life do I remember time moving so slowly. After about fifty minutes of that, along with pacing and scolding myself (in case I’ve gotten this worked up over nothing), my phone buzzes beside me, causing me to yelp with fright.
‘ Hello? ’ I squeak down the phone.
‘Good morning, is that Ms Emma Blake?’
‘Yes. Yes, it is.’
‘May I call you Emma?’ the voice asks.
‘Of course.’ I’m now so high pitched, I’m surprised the crystal in Cat’s apartment is still intact.
‘Thank you, Emma. My name is Vivienne Caldwell and I’m a lottery adviser. I’ve been speaking with Sumaira, who has told me you may have had a substantial win.’
‘Yes… that’s right. But I might have got it wrong, so I’m keeping an open mind. It’s really… open.’ I wince in embarrassment. What has happened to me? I’m an intelligent, capable woman, but this situation is turning me into a blithering idiot.
‘That’s good, Emma. Now, shall we get a few formalities out of the way before we talk about next steps? Is that all right with you?’
I nod enthusiastically, then on realising she can’t see me, I confirm that I’m happy with this plan.
Vivienne spends the next ten minutes or so checking that I’m OK (something that’s clearly needed, judging by my behaviour), chatting me through her role in looking after me as a potential winner and explaining the prize claim process, including the required verification of my win. She also asks me to confirm my ticket details again.
‘Well, Emma,’ she says eventually. ‘Provided everything we have discussed is accurate, the ticket is genuine and you’re able to produce it for inspection when I visit, your win will be confirmed.’
I gulp. It’s real. This is actually happening. It seemed a bit ridiculous when I thought about it myself, but now that Vivienne is confirming it, it sounds utterly absurd.
‘Are you absolutely sure?’ I ask. ‘Because I’m not sure I’d come back from this if it were a mistake.’
I can almost hear Vivienne smiling down the phone. ‘I am absolutely sure – pending what I’ve said. I’ve done this job long enough to pick up on potential issues at this stage. I also tracked the ticket sale before we spoke. We do it all electronically. Just you keep that ticket in a safe place.’
‘Oh, I will. I’ll guard it with my life.’
‘Good. Now before we do the necessary admin, tell me, do you have anything planned over the next few days? We generally recommend that you don’t make any substantial purchases before everything is confirmed. I would also recommend seeking some financial advice and/or taking a few days away to help you think through what you want to do with the money. Also, be wary of making snap decisions that you might regret.’
‘That seems like sound advice. Well, tonight I’m hoping to take my three best friends out for dinner,’ I tell her. ‘To a restaurant we often eat at. Does that sound OK?’
‘I’m sure that won’t break the bank,’ she says. ‘And I’m sure your friends will appreciate the gesture – just bear in mind that everything is not yet signed and sealed. Have you told your friends yet? ’
I’m starting to get excited now.
‘My best friend was with me when I checked the ticket. But no one else knows. I’m going to surprise the others. I’ve had a difficult time recently and I owe them a huge thank you for their support.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that you’ve had a difficult time, Emma. That sounds like a lovely way to show your appreciation. Now, a few other important things… Please do not make any promises to anyone, and be extra vigilant when it comes to people who might appear out of nowhere if they hear about your win. I recommend asking your friends to keep it a secret while you figure out how public you want to be about it.’
‘Thanks, that’s great advice.’ I’m so appreciative of Vivienne’s rational mind at this particular moment, especially as I seem to have lost mine.
While we go through the more administrative based part of the process, I can’t help focusing on one thing – what she said about people appearing out of nowhere. Would Dave do something like that? Surely not. He made it clear that things were over. A sudden U-turn would be pretty suspect. Although, at least I’d have him back – that little voice creeps in again. Annoyed with myself for allowing this thought to form, I push it away and make a mental note not to get sucked by any ‘declaration of regret’ if he does turn up again.
By lunchtime, the excitement of my call with Vivienne has worn off. In fact, it feels like a bit of anti-climax, because her visit isn’t for two days, and I don’t know what to do with myself to pass the time until then. Remembering my conversation with Cat about my career and life success in general, I look up some online articles on assertiveness, but I can’t concentrate. I then consider going for a walk, however, the thought of that conjures up a big ball of nerves in my stomach.
I’m absolutely terrified at the idea of leaving the ticket alone in the apartment. What if we got burgled? And I’d feel equally worried taking it out with me in case I lost it. Then, there’s the fact that my incredible stroke of luck hasn’t magically cured the anxiety triggered by my breakup. In fact, the surrealness of this experience and the limbo I’m facing while I wait for confirmation of my win seems to have temporarily worsened it.
Eventually, I decide I can’t sit on something this huge any longer. I have to at least tell Aunt Lottie.
I dial her on FaceTime and wait for her to answer. It takes a while, but eventually her face appears on my screen.
‘Emma, lovely to see you. How are you coping?’ She peers at me with a concerned face.
‘I’m doing OK, actually.’ I’m physically twitching at the thought of telling her my news. ‘How are you?’
‘You don’t have to pretend with me.’
‘I’m not pretending. I’m honestly a lot better. Something’s happened, and it’s kind of… massive.’
‘Oh?’ Her thinning eyebrows lift.
‘Aunt Lottie…’ I pause for effect. ‘I’ve won the lottery.’
‘You’ve won some pottery?’
I giggle. ‘Not pottery. Lottery . I’ve won the lottery. Not the top prize but a big one.’
She still seems a bit confused, which isn’t all that surprising – I’m struggling to get my own head around it – so I fill her in on the events of the last few days to help her understand .
‘That’s just lovely, Emma,’ she says once I’ve told her how it all happened. ‘You were in need of a little boost.’
‘Don’t you want to know how much I’ve won?’ I ask with a grin.
‘That’s not really my business. Though I’m hoping it’s enough for you to treat yourself to something nice after the upset you’ve had.’
‘Oh, it is. I’ve won… wait for it … just over three-quarters of a million pounds.’
Aunt Lottie studies me over the video feed. ‘Good grief, Emma. You’re not kidding.’
‘No, I’m not.’ I shake my head, eyes wide from my residual disbelief. ‘I feel like I’m in a dream and I’m about to wake up. But it’s actually real.’
‘Well… I’m a bit lost for words.’ Aunt Lottie looks quite overwhelmed. ‘This is… wonderful news. I’m ever so pleased for you.’
We chat excitedly for nearly an hour, and I arrange to visit her on Friday, then I message Amber and Sara about dinner – they don’t know I’m planning to pay, of course – but my idea to spontaneously surprise them doesn’t work. Unlike me, they both have lives and already have plans for the evening. Instead, we agree to meet on Thursday, which actually works better, because by that time my win should be confirmed. It will also give me a chance to get out and about and work up to being in a crowded restaurant. How I’ll keep myself from telling anyone else for two more days, though, I really don’t know.
I even consider calling my mum as ‘fake promised’, but she’s incapable of keeping a secret. Feeling slightly guilty that she’s worrying about me, and that I’m not sharing the most exciting moment of my life with her and my dad, I send her a text to say that I’m fine and I’ll pop up to see them on Saturday. A visit trumps a call, so that should help me win back some brownie points.
So, with that ticked off and a noticeably absent attention span, I lock all lurking thoughts of Dave firmly out my mind and indulge myself in a spot of daydreaming about what I’ll do with my big win.