so.’ I imagine the lottery company like it if you take publicity. A good luck story in the papers must mean more tickets are bought but my instinct is to keep this to ourselves.
‘You don’t have to decide now,’ she replies smoothly. ‘One of our winners’ advisors will be in contact with you shortly. They’ll send an email or call you, and then they’ll fix up a meeting. Probably for Tuesday next week. Usually it’s sooner but as it’s a bank holiday on Monday, Tuesday might be better for you?’
‘Yes, yes, whatever you think.’ I don’t want to cause any inconvenience, make someone work on their bank holiday.
‘You can talk through the matter of publicity with them and they will tell you everything about what happens next.’
Jake grabs the phone from me. ‘Will he bring the cheque?’
Even at this distance I can hear the amusement in the woman’s voice. ‘No, there is a tiny bit more paperwork to be done first. Bank account details etc.’
‘When will we get the money?’ I scowl at Jake. He is being crass. I am not sure what the elegant response to winning nearly eighteen million pounds is, but I doubt it is demanding the money like a highway robber.
‘Our advisor will be in touch but if everything runs smoothly, as I’m sure it will, you’ll most likely have the money in your account by Wednesday. Thursday at the latest.’
‘This Wednesday?’ asks Jake, beaming.
‘Yes.’
After the call finishes, we just stare at one another, amazed.
Then through some silent communication, developed after nearly twenty years of marriage, we simultaneously pounce on one another and kiss each other in a way that we haven’t since the first week we dated. Urgent and jubilant, grateful and eager. Pushing away all other thoughts and just staying in the moment, we have fast, intense sex on the desk. For the past ten years – possibly longer – sex has been limited to the bedroom. The exciting, novel nature of this hungry and triumphant sex naturally means it is soon over. I pull up my joggers and laugh, a little self-consciously, ‘Now you really have hit the jackpot.’
Jake holds me close and speaks into my neck, his breath tickling. ‘Actually, technically, you have hit the jackpot. You bought the ticket. This win is yours. That’s why they wanted to speak to you on the phone.’
I laugh. ‘What’s yours is mine, though, right?’ It has always been that way between us. It has for so long. We’re a team. Husband and wife. Your spouse is your teammate, right? I shake my head, as a clouding thought enters it. It has to be addressed. ‘Jake, what about the Heathcotes and the Pearsons?’
Jake instantly moves away from me; he concentrates on putting on his pants and jeans and won’t meet my gaze. ‘What about them?’
‘I just went to Jennifer and Fred’s tonight. That’s where I was earlier.’
‘Oh, so not delivering a book to Diane Roper like you said.’
‘No.’ Normally, I’d be mildly embarrassed that I lied to him about something so petty but in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t register. I hadn’t wanted to tell him that I was checking up on Jennifer’s story about them going away to Fred’s sister’s place this weekend. I thought he might have tried to stop me. I thought he’d gently tease me; insist I was getting into a state about nothing.
Although he’d have been wrong.
‘They are not away. Like they said they were going to be,’ I tell him.
‘I see.’
‘I drove past their house. What do you think is going on? Why would they lie to us?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘Don’t you care that they’ve lied to us?’
‘Not at all,’ he snaps. His tone suggests he cares quite a good deal. I stare at him; his head is bent. He must feel the weight of my gaze because eventually he straightens up and his eyes meet mine. Breathing fast and shallow, he says, ‘We’ve just won the lottery, Lexi.’
‘But the Heathcotes, the Pearsons?’
His expression changes to one that is smug and victorious, but there is also something about the way he moves his mouth that reveals to me that he is smarting. Concerned? He draws me to him. ‘Look, this is karma, after the way they behaved last week.’
‘It was just Patrick who was out of order.’
‘The others sided with him. It was humiliating. We don’t need them,’ he whispers.
I lay my head on his chest and breathe him in. ‘Are you sure?’ I ask. I want