Travel is edifying, right? Everyone knows that. I could happily sign off on travel. We’d do it together, we’d learn about different cultures, see what a big place the world is, after all.
“Disney Florida,” yelled Logan. “Staying in, like, the best hotel. We’d fly first class, right?”
“We certainly would, mate,” confirmed Jake. “I’ve always wanted to turn left when boarding an aircraft.”
“And the Maldives. Scarlett Scott went to the Maldives last year and her Insta was amazing,” chipped in Emily. “Oh, my God, no, scrub that, New York. Let’s go shopping in New York! Actually, both. Can we do both?”
A few years ago there was this Irish couple who won an extraordinarily huge amount on the Euro lottery. I don’t recall exactly how much. Over a hundred million. They immediately announced that they were going to be giving the bulk of it away to friends, family and good causes. A wonderful approach, very admirable, very sensible. Jake and I have agreed we’ll pay off his brothers’ mortgages and buy my sister a starter place. She has never managed to get on the property ladder as she is a bit of a nomad and has traveled all over the world for years. We’ll send my parents on a world cruise. Something glorious and indulgent. Although, thinking about it, my dad suffers terribly with seasickness. We once caught a ferry to Calais and it was as nasty as a Tarantino movie, so a cruise probably isn’t ideal for them. Maybe a safari. Or is that a bit too much now they are in their seventies? A couple of weeks in a posh pad in the South of France could work. Regret rips through my body. If only Jake’s parents were alive to be part of this. They’d have been delighted. Thrilled. Well, everyone will be.
Won’t they?
My mind is working one hundred to a dozen. Thoughts zap into my head, and I can’t hold on to one of them for more than a moment. There are other people who can benefit from the win. There are endless worthy charities and individuals. Jake has agreed that we don’t need to keep it all. We shouldn’t. No one needs so much money, but lots of people need some money. My line of work starkly highlights that. I work at Citizens Advice Bureau. My job is to deliver easily accessible community advice. I’m a generalist, a sort of gatekeeper, who often simply takes notes and listens to walk-ins. I assess difficulties and point people in the right direction, toward a specialist like a lawyer, a doctor or counsellor. No problem is too big or too small to capture my attention. My average day might involve helping to stop payday lenders ruining lives or helping people fill out job applications. I am never bored at work. I enjoy the fact that I can’t guess who I’m going to meet or help on a day-to-day basis. On the whole, I like how varied my work is and I certainly like the fact I can help, but sometimes it depresses me that people’s vulnerabilities and needs are so far-reaching. Sometimes I come home from work exhausted, aware that no matter how many people I’ve met with and advised, I will never be able to help everyone or solve everything.
Still, I can try. I do. Day after day. And now I’ll be able to do more.
I push the kids out the door just in time to catch the school bus, grab my handbag and hurriedly shove my feet into my work shoes. I glance around the kitchen. It’s chaos as usual, but I’m running late and haven’t even got time to stack the dishwasher. It will be waiting for me later. Then I notice Jake sitting at the breakfast bar, still in his pajamas.
“Why aren’t you dressed?”
“I’m not going to work today. The meeting with the lottery people is at three o’clock. There’s no point.”
“Well, I am.”
“Apparently. Don’t you feel like playing hooky, even for a day?” He smiles at me. His broad, charming smile that I’ve found irresistible more times than I can count. “We could go into London again, have lunch somewhere ridiculously swanky. Maybe The Shard? Nobu? There’s plenty of time,” he coaxes.
I have to steel myself against the temptation he’s presenting. I should point out the flaw in his logic. If there isn’t enough time to go to work, how is there enough time to have a long lunch? I don’t. I just say, “I have meetings in my diary. I can’t let people down.” I quickly kiss him on the lips. He pulls me close and draws out the kiss. Being wealthy is obviously making him feel very randy. I giggle and gently move away, walk toward the door. “Hey, I’ve been thinking, when we talk to the advisor today, maybe she could give us some advice on how to choose which charities to donate to. You know, really get an understanding of which ones put money to work and which simply spend a fortune on advertising and their CEOs’ salaries.”
“Yes, sounds like a plan.” Jake smiles affably.
“Because I was thinking, we can pay off our mortgage and then put some away for the kids. Let’s say we keep two-point-eight million and then give the rest away.”
“What?” Jake barks out a fake laugh. “Hilarious.”
I freeze. “I’m serious.”
“We’d quickly get through that amount. It would go nowhere.”
“The kids bought everything they wanted in Topshop yesterday. Some of it didn’t even fit properly, let alone suit them.”
I was a bit startled with how greedily Emily and Logan had behaved. I understand, of course, they are teens in Topshop, the equivalent to kids in a sweetshop. They were bound to get carried away. Being greedy is the normal reaction to a lottery win. Most people would think I am the one acting strangely by still thinking of purchasing items in terms
