just a bit of fun. But as time went by and life got more stressful, I found myself buying a ticket on Monday instead of waiting till Saturday afternoon. All week, I’d carry that slip of paper around, and every time I opened my wallet, I’d think, Maybe this week…
I’d think how incredible it would be to leave work and for Mina to quit her job too. I’d think how Sophia wouldn’t have to be afraid of being abandoned, because we’d never have to leave her. Not for work, not for anything.
When Saturday rolled around and we didn’t win, instead of crumpling the ticket and chucking it in the bin, I’d stare at it, rechecking the numbers. I’d feel jealous of the winners, bitterly resentful that it wasn’t us. I’d feel Sophia tense in my arms and think, This would change if we won the lottery.
I started playing every week.
“We’d do better to stick two quid in a jar each week,” Mina said. “At least that way we’d have a hundred and four quid to show for it at the end of the year.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I said, although it didn’t feel like fun by then. I set up a direct debit—it seemed easier than finding cash each time—and then I thought I might as well increase our chances. When I got to five rows, Mina stopped me.
“It’s only a tenner a week.”
“It’s five hundred quid a year, Adam. We could go on holiday for that.” She canceled the direct debit, and on Saturday night, she’d turn the TV over after eight o’clock and watch something on the BBC instead…
“You should probably sit down,” Becca says now.
“I’m alright.” The words come out slurred, and she looks at me strangely. My tongue feels too big for my mouth, the insides of my cheeks dry and chalky. I grip the side of the counter. I protected my head as best I could while I was getting a kicking, and I’m fairly certain my kidneys came off worst, but now I’m starting to think I might have a concussion. I’ve had it once before—during a rugby match—and I try to remember how it felt, but the details slip away from me.
It was scratch cards that fucked me. I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, like an alcoholic abusing Babycham or a drug addict who can’t lay off the cough syrup. I won two hundred and fifty quid on the first card I bought. Two hundred and fifty! I could have kissed the bloke in the corner shop. I took Mina out for dinner and bought Sophia the color-change unicorn she’d been wanting, and I kept twenty quid back as my scratch-card fund. That was the key, I decided. Never gamble what you can’t afford. I’d use a portion of everything I won to buy more scratch cards, and that way, I’d never get in trouble.
Except I only won a pound that time, and then nothing at all the next time, or the time after that…
Everything’s fuzzy. I’m vaguely aware of Sophia coming into the kitchen, asking Becca, “What’s wrong with Daddy?” I hear Becca’s response as though it’s underwater, and I shake my head to clear it.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a bit tired.” The first aid box is still on the side, and I rifle through it, wondering how strong the painkillers were, because although my head’s swimming, I still hurt all over. “Did you give me ibuprofen or paracetamol?” I ask Becca. If it was just one, I can take the other.
“Daddy?” Sophia’s rubbing her eyes. This first term at school has exhausted her.
There’s all sorts of rubbish in the first aid box—sticky bottles of cough mixture and an assortment of bandages—but no painkillers. I blink, shake my head again like a dog running from the sea.
“Where are they?” I turn and look at Becca, who stares back, her face unmoving. She doesn’t look like a teenager anymore; she looks older, more streetwise, more knowing.
In among the pain and the fuzziness comes a sudden clarity. “Becca, what did you give me?”
My mouth is so dry, it’s hard to get out the words, and through the fuzziness in my head, I hear them run into each other. Whatdidyougiveme? The pain in my ribs and my kidneys feel so distant now, they could belong to someone else.
“Something to help you sleep.” Becca smiles, as if she’s done something helpful, and I grapple to make sense of the situation. Did we even have sleeping