I sit at the desk, my nerves on edge. My stomach’s fluttering and the palms of my hands are covered in sweat. What if I’ve got it all wrong? It would be embarrassing to come back to the library and it’s one of my best places to pass the long hours of the day.
A good two minutes pass and I’m thinking “should I or shouldn’t I?” Finally I pick up the phone, dial nine and one by one slowly press each number listed on the sheet of paper.
A female voice answers after three rings.
“Hello. I’m umm, err, not sure. I’ve checked the numbers several times and they seem correct. I think I’ve, err, won the Euro Lotto.”
“Congratulations! However, I just need to go over a few details with you.” The lady on the phone is calm and collected. She sounds like this happens on a regular basis.
I give her all the information she asks for.
“I just need to check a few extra things,” she says. “Can you give me a phone number where I can contact you in about an hour?”
“Can you hang on a minute? I don’t have a phone.”
I find Miss Heffer and explain the situation.
She neatly writes down a phone number on a small piece of paper and hands it to me. “Tell them to call you back on this number. You can wait here until they ring.”
After Miss Heffer keys the numbers into the entry pad, I go back to the desk and pick up the phone. “I’ve got a number where you can call me back.” I give her the phone number and once the call has ended I sit down at the desk. I put my head in my hands as I’m really not sure what to do.
Twenty-two minutes later, the phone rings.
The woman, who identifies herself as Jane, tells me she needs to ask me some more questions, including where and when I bought the ticket. I tell her that I still have the shop receipt and she sounds pleased. However, she does advise me that she cannot confirm my win until the company co-ordinator has had the opportunity to confirm all I have told her, although she can see no problem at this stage.
She then tells me the company will be sending one of their counsellors to help and advise me about what happens next. And at this point, she asks for my address. I call in Miss Heffer and they work out a time to meet me at the library. She says I can make further use of the staff room and no one will disturb us.
I’m a fairly logical person but it’s still hard to believe this is happening. Have I really won the Lotto? I’m not even sure why I bought a ticket in the first place. What was I thinking?
I need time to get my head around this. I could really do with a stiff drink right now. I tell myself not to get over-excited, just in case.
But she told me. I know she did. I heard her say it. Jane from the Lotto Company told me. She said I hold the only winning ticket and it’s the biggest amount in the company’s history. Jane told me I’d won £168,548,030. I couldn’t quite take it in so I wrote down the amount.
Surely this sort of thing doesn’t happen to someone like me. I don’t deserve to win.
Oh God. If only Miriam were here, and Jack and Abi. It’s not fair. It’s really not fair.
Jane said the people from the company are on their way to see me. What people? What do they want? My head’s spinning. I can feel one of my migraine headaches coming on. Believe it or not, winning £168 million is stressful.
Even when I had a family, I would only do the Lotto on the odd occasion. Winning enough to pay off the mortgage was about as much as I could imagine. Like most people, I guess I was thinking, If only.
It’s been eighteen months since everything I cared about was taken from me. Not a single day goes by where I don’t remember it all. What the hell does a homeless man need with all that money? The truth is I didn’t expect to win. I got carried away in the moment. Maybe I wanted to just win enough to get off the streets and have a little bit left over? But £168 million! What the hell do I do with it? I could give most of it to charity. I just hope the Lotto people will be able to advise me.
After my phone conversation to the Lotto people, I leave the library in a daze and it’s only four pm. Do I tell anyone? Who can I tell? Stevie’s back in Swansea and I don’t have his contact details.
The migraine is getting worse. I think I’ll go back to the Albion and try to get some sleep, but it won’t be dark for a couple of hours and I’m not sure what I’ll find there as I never go back until the evenings, long after the top management have gone home. I don’t want to get found out or cause any trouble. Still, I’ll make an exception today as my head feels like someone’s hitting it from the inside with a sledgehammer.
I may be a Lotto millionaire but at this precise moment, I can’t even afford to buy some Nurofen. I’m meeting with the Lotto people in the morning, so this time tomorrow I’ll be a multi-millionaire.
What can possibly go wrong?
Chapter Twelve
THE LOTTO WIN
The local newspaper carries the headline ‘Local Homeless Man Wins £168 Million Lotto’ and a photo of me holding up a giant cheque, surrounded by scantily clad women and people showering me with champagne.
The Lotto people persuaded me to go public. I do so on the
