wanted to go to Central Park since I watched this old show Mum likes, Friends. The Ritz-Carlton is the most elegant, chic place you could imagine, ever. Dad said Logan and I can have our own rooms; we don’t even have to share. Mum and Dad will get a suite, so we all have somewhere to chill after we’ve spent the day shopping on Fifth Avenue, which features on like every chick-flick ever. I literally can’t wait!
Yesterday really was the most perfect day I’ve ever experienced. Dad quickly got bored of sitting around thinking about how we could spend the money; he wanted to get out and actually spend some. Mum made another call to the lottery company and once they absolutely, definitely double, treble confirmed that we had won, she said we could get a train into London and go to the big Topshop on Oxford Street.
You know, she still bought the family-saver ticket. Dad teased her about that. ‘No point in wasting money,’ she replied, primly.
In Topshop I just went wild. Dad said I could have anything I wanted in the entire shop. Anything at all. ‘We can afford anything and everything,’ he laughed. I tried on about a thousand things. We told the shop assistant we’d won the lottery. Once we convinced her that we weren’t messing, she said I could take any number of garments into the changing room, even though the usual limit is eight. I can’t even remember what I bought in the end. Loads of the Ivy Park’s workout pieces, a little boxy bag that is so cute, earrings, a leopard print cap, some sun dresses, shorts, quite a few tees. I lost count. Most likely over twenty pieces. Maybe thirty. I’m not actually certain where I’m going to wear it all but I guess we’ll be going to more fancy places now and so I’ll have opportunities to dress up. Logan did the same in Topman. He bought the same T-shirt in four different colours because he couldn’t decide which he liked best.
I finish my cereal, wash out the bowl, then pick up my mug of tea and drag myself back up the stairs. Back in my room I lay out all yesterday’s purchases on the floor and bed. I can’t believe I have to put on my boring school uniform.
There’s a tap at my door. I’m expecting it to be Mum, coming to tell me to get a move on, hop in the shower, dash for the bus but it’s not Mum nagging, it’s Dad smiling. Logan is hanging around in the hallway, still wet from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. He’s obviously not in a hurry either.
‘Hello, princess.’
I beam. ‘Hiya, Dad. Just looking at my stuff again. I still can’t believe it. Can you?’
‘Not really.’ He grins and rubs his hair with his hand, something he does when he’s really chuffed with life. Logan is punching the air, something he has done on a more or less continuous basis since they told us the news. ‘Look,’ says Dad with a reluctant sigh, ‘your mum wants me to remind you to keep this to yourself, at least for the moment.’
‘I know, I know. She’s said.’
‘She’s just worried about people’s reactions.’
‘Why so?’ asks Logan.
‘Oh, you know, people can be jealous or just weird.’
‘Weird how?’
Dad doesn’t directly answer, he says, ‘She’s worried about security.’
‘Security?’ Logan looks fit to burst with excitement. ‘Like, in case someone kidnaps us?’
‘No one said anything about kidnapping,’ replies Dad calmly.
‘What then?’ Logan looks crushed that his newfound wealth isn’t going to place him in immediate danger.
‘The lady who is our winner’s advisor said she wanted to talk about how to deal with begging letters. You know, things like that. It’s possible once the news is out people might just turn up and ask for money, I guess.’
‘Well, we’ve plenty of it so maybe we should just give these people some, if they need it,’ suggests my brother, showing that he hasn’t got a clue.
Dad is kind enough not to say as much but just asks, ‘Yeah, but where would that stop? We will give to charity, of course we will. We just need to think it through.’
‘I can’t wait for the moment when we can tell people though,’ I add, beaming, thinking of Ridley and Megan’s faces.
I. Just. Can’t. Wait.
5
Toma
Wednesday, 6th February
‘Do you want a cup of tea? I’m about to put the kettle on.’
He didn’t respond. Not coherently. His bones ached. He was