All the blood in my body plummeted straight to my feet.
‘I mean, not the whole thing. But four numbers. That’s one hundred and forty big ones.’
‘Oh. Right. Great, thank you.’
I gripped the counter for support, willing my vital organs to restart functioning while Barb faffed about, making sure everyone in the shop and whoever happened to be loitering about nearby knew that it was ‘someone’s lucky day!’
‘Here,’ she said, preening at the clump of people now waiting behind me. ‘Your winnings, madam.’
She then slowly counted out seven twenty-pound notes.
‘Congratulations, love,’ someone called, prompting a general murmuring of similar sentiments.
‘What are you going to spend it on?’
‘Knowing this one, she’ll treat herself to a food-court flapjack.’ Barb snickered. ‘Maybe a new apron?’
‘What? Young lass like her should be treating herself properly,’ an older man said. ‘You should do something nice. Buy a new frock or have a night out with your fella.’
‘Oh, she hasn’t got a fella,’ Barb said, sounding as sad as possible while still smirking.
I didn’t tell her that I was having lunch with a man in a few hours. She’d be even more brazen about sharing that titbit than the Lotto win.
‘Or book yourself a holiday,’ the older man’s companion said. ‘You’re in an airport; why not?’
Why not indeed?I thought, hurrying back to the kiosk. I’d promised the woman who gave me the ticket that I’d go on holiday if I won. What neither of us had clarified was how much money counted as winning.
The notes now safely zipped inside my jacket pocket were enough to buy a flight to somewhere. Maybe even to bring me back again. But not much else.
And yet.
As I got on with placing pasties inside paper bags, serving drinks and handing out napkins, I couldn’t help thinking about the other money sitting in a savings account for a rainy day.
It was supposed to be my back-up fund, to be used in a crisis.
But, honestly, with my relentlessly predictable life, these past few days might be as close to a crisis as I’d ever get.
I was still thinking about it when Blessing came over at two, offering congratulations while picking up her regular order.
‘We are definitely going clothes shopping now.’
‘Can you get much these days for a hundred and forty pounds?’
‘You can if you’re with me.’ She pulled out her phone. ‘How about Tuesday morning? If we hit the shops the second they open, we could squeeze in lunch before my shift starts.’
‘Yeah…’
‘What?’ Blessing narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t tell me Barb’s strong-armed you into one of her mojito nights.’
‘No. Ugh. Definitely not. But I might not be here on Tuesday.’
‘I know you’re not here on Tuesdays. That’s why I suggested it.’
‘I mean I might not be anywhere here. I might be somewhere much further away.’
Blessing’s eyes went round, her coffee mug frozen halfway to her mouth.
‘You’re going on holiday?’
