The lottery ticket

Lottery ticket – total fiction
Please don’t send begging messages.

It was a few weeks ago that our car pulled to a stop outside the newsagents near Worcester. We had a busy time over Christmas with our family visiting.  We had certainly over spent on our celebrations. Now we had just a couple of weeks before we went on our winter break with all our spare cash changed to euros.

For the last couple of days the news had been full of the flooding in the city and we had been watching the river Severn rising and the flood barriers coming out. Now  it was drizzling with rain. Not a good sign, but luckily we were escaping the bad weather. We were now on our way to visit our son for lunch. Would he be alright? Would his garden flood again?

We had stopped at the newsagents for a Sunday Paper. The shop was not far out of our way from our house to our sons. We had often called at this news agents.  My husband would buy a Euro million ticket, not a lottery ticket, I bought that on line. My worry had always been I would lose the ticket or leave it in a pocket when I washed. He however prefers to be able to hold something tangible in his hand as proof of his purchase.

Today, his head bent forward to avoid the drizzle, he entered the shop. He literally bumped into a lady leaving. She was blond, her hair scrapped back and fasten with a purple clip. For a winters day, she was underdressed with a short pink skirt and a top that looked like she was entering a wet t-shirt competition. She chatted for a few moments.  I imaged my husband apologising and her response then, she walked off with a provocative swing to her hips, which said notice me. Someone did and called loudly across the road and she replied equally loudly. The comment was unrepeatable, it suggested she lived on the rougher side of town.

A few minutes later my husband got into the car and handed me the Sunday Express and as we drove past the lady he remarked “I bumped into her”

“Did you” I said sourly.

” Not my type dear” he responded and averted his eyes quickly.

Sitting on a sun lounger on our holiday,  I am reading the paper about the missing lottery ticket holder coming from Worcester.

I wonder would the lady outside the newsagent in Worcester would have been my husband’s type if she had won £33 million?

I must remember to ask him if bought a lucky dip ticket that day, after all a 66 million draw may have tempted him to buy a lottery ticket that day. Was it in his shirt pocket and have I washed it? How long have I got to make a claim? I tried to check on line but you can only check the lotto in the uk, so I have another two weeks before I can check my husbands pockets and check on line, and make a claim.

Now what can I spend all that money on, flood defences for my son, a new house for us    gifts for all the family.