Page 28 of The Lucky Winners


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Dev takes a final look at the view before he pushes away from the glass railing and heads back inside.

19

Merri

I stop unpacking for a few minutes to enjoy the soft warmth of sunlight filtering through the blinds, painting thin golden lines across the bedroom of our new home. I feel a little quieter inside now with the kind of peace that comes after hours of restless tossing and turning.

I always struggle with big change, but now we have daylight I feel excited and less anxious because this is it. Day one of our new life.Ournew life.

The bedroom door is open and the smells of toast and coffee waft through the air. A familiar clink of crockery comes from the kitchen. It’s business as usual … To all intents and purposes, we could be back in our tiny house except, when I look around, our old bedroom would fit in here four times. I wonder if Paige is just waking up in it …

Dev is humming and singing along to the radio as he moves about downstairs. Of course he’s already fully in gear and diving head first into this new life. Not dithering around and battling with imposter syndrome like me.

I sit on the bed and lean against the pillows. They’re plump and oversized, stuffed with something impossibly soft that cradles the back of my head just right. The cases are silky and smooth, a high-thread-count cotton with an understated luxury that whispers money. It’s the kind of luxury we’ve never been able to afford. Part of the house win, of course. As is everything in here. Even the comfort feels borrowed.

A few moments later, Dev appears in the doorway with a tray balanced in his hands. He’s smiling that boyish grin, the one he’s been wearing since we won the house. ‘Morning, m’lady!’ he says, affecting a silly posh accent as he sets down a tray. ‘Breakfast in bed on day one. Only the best for my girl.’

He’s trying so hard to make sure our first morning here is as perfect as it’s supposed to be. I glance at the tray – toast, scrambled eggs and a mug of tea. It’s sweet of him and I smile. ‘Thanks, Dev,’ I say softly, picking up the toast. ‘This looks amazing.’

‘You’re amazing.’ He perches on the edge of the bed and watches me eat. ‘We’re going to make the best memories here, Merri. I can feel it.’

‘I know,’ I agree, taking another bite of toast. ‘I keep telling myself I don’t have to wake up worrying, or be ready for work.’

‘Well, get used to it because this is our new normal from now on.’

I drink my tea. I don’t want to spoil the moment by pointing out there are still a few worries on my mind, not least finding new jobs that will support us living in a place like this. We shouldn’t have too much trouble in either of our current lines of work, but Dev seems completely against even discussing plans for a job search. His head is now full of plans for us starting our own business.

A couple of hours later, we sit in the living room, surrounded by the view, the boxes, and the radio playing some old rock station Dev favours in the background.

‘We’re going to have to get rid of all this stuff.’ Dev sighs, opening another box and poking through the contents. ‘We’ve brought cushions, blankets, pans … and it’s already here. And all of it brand new!’

The house is stocked far more substantially than we’d expected. ‘Fully furnished’ meant ‘every single thing you’ll need’. Although every single thing is someone else’s choice, not ours.

I’m sorting through a stack of books and I recall, with a smile, that it was when I was packing them in Nottingham that Dev let out a mad whoop. I’d clutched my throat, almost jumping out of my skin. He’d been checking his phone every few minutes, glued to it as if he expected DreamKey might backtrack and change its mind about the money. When the notification finally pinged through, he’d shouted so loudly I thought something actuallyhadgone wrong.

He’d grabbed me, sending the books flying, and he’d spun me around the kitchen like we were in some daft rom-com.

When we’d stopped spinning, he’d held up his phone screen. We’d stood there staring at the display, our sparse, tiny balance suddenly swollen with more money than we’d ever dreamed of having in our entire lives.

I’d touched the numbers on the screen with a shaking fingertip, like they might disappear if I so much as blinked. And then we’d danced – properly danced without music, like idiots – until we collapsed onto the sofa, breathless, the weight of all those unpaid bills and money worries suddenly gone.

Last month, Dev had cancelled our Netflix subscription. Then a quarter of a million pounds landed in our joint account, tax free, which allowed us to pay off all the debt and prepare for the move here. And now we’re officially rich.

20

Sixteen Years Earlier

Sometimes Beth had suffered bad dreams back at Clay Bank. I could tell before I even opened my eyes – the muffled whimpers, the rustle of the sheets as she twisted and turned this way and that in her sleep.

She never seemed to remember much in the morning, but I always knew what haunted her.

It washim, one of Mum’s boyfriends who promised her things he had no intention of giving. A puppy, a day out at the petting farm – simple joys that any child her age would treasure. She believed his lies every time, her excitement bubbling over as if she couldn’t contain it.

She’d sit by the window waiting for his next visit, clutching her tiny purse or holding a drawing she’d made of the kind of puppy she wanted. He’d smile and hand her a box, big enough to set her heart racing. ‘Open it, princess,’ he’d say, ruffling her hair.

Inside, there was nothing. Always nothing. Polystyrene balls from a recent delivery or crumpled newspaper, but never anything more. Beth would stare into the emptiness, trying so hard to smile, as if pretending it was funny might make it hurt less.

‘Next time, sweetie,’ he’d say, already turning away. ‘Next time, I promise you’ll have it all.’