Just My Luck(10)
‘No wage?’
‘No. I know this is exploitation. I have no choice. I don’t care. I stay in the place they offer me. It’s better than the streets. But I notice the law is broken in this property. I ask who the landlord is. No one has a name but one day I stay off work. I pretend I am ill because I know that this day is rent collection and I see him, and then I recognise him. It is the same man. My old landlord. He was called into court one day during the trial, so I am sure. I would never forget his face. Then I start to wonder. Did he know after all? Is he responsible?’
‘But why would Elaine Winterdale take the fall?’
‘He pay her.’ Toma could see that the woman didn’t buy into his theory. She was interested in helping but there was a limit.
‘Come back to the Citizen’s Advice Bureau with me. We can look into this,’ she offered.
He understood what was happening here. He was a step ahead of her. She thought she was luring him in. She wanted him to trust her so she could introduce him to back-to-work schemes and find him better accommodation. She had enough compassion to want to see Toma on his feet again. Yes, undoubtedly she would issue warning letters about the carbon-monoxide alarms to the bastard landlord, if she could track him down. She had a developed sense of responsibility and would want to stop this sort of disaster happening again if she could. She was good at her job. He nodded and stood up. He followed her through the park, back along the high street and into her office, certain that it was not him on the end of the line, it was her.
He would reel her in, a slippery, reluctant catch, maybe. But he would get her on side, convince her that his theory was a reality and then he would use her office resources to investigate the bastard that had killed his loves. Toma would have justice. Or revenge.
6
Lexi
Tuesday 23rd April
I’m looking forward to the appointment with the lottery people. My family think my reserve is odd, but I’m not made of steel – of course I’m excited about this win. Over the moon. It is, as we keep saying to ourselves and each other, amazing, fantastic, spectacular. It is those and all sorts of other overused superlatives. However, I am a realist and I know that this sort of win comes with some complications and responsibilities too. The timing couldn’t be worse. I try not to think of the Pearsons and the Heathcotes because whenever I do, the excited glow inside is extinguished. I feel cold and sour in my heart. I just need to understand the process, have everything locked down and agreed, and then we can really relax and enjoy our ridiculously good fortune.
Over the weekend, Jake and the kids drew up a list of stuff they wanted to squander the money on. It was very general. The things that featured included – but were not limited to – cars, property, clothes, parties, holidays. I groaned.
‘Guys, that list is a lazy list.’ All three stared at me, non-comprehending. Both my children look a lot like their dad: dark curly hair, dark eyes. They are all beautiful to look at, compelling. They wore the same expression too – excitement. No, scrub that – jubilation. ‘At least try and be specific. Don’t just write “holidays”, write a list of places you’ve always wanted to visit.’
Travel is edifying, right? Everyone knows that. I could happily sign off on travel. We’d do it together, we’d learn about different cultures, see what a big place the world is after all.
‘Disney Florida,’ yelled Logan. ‘Staying in like the best hotel. We’d fly first class, right?’
‘We certainly would, mate,’ confirmed Jake. ‘I’ve always wanted to turn left when boarding an aircraft.’
‘And the Maldives. Scarlett Scott went to the Maldives last year and her insta was amazing,’ chipped in Emily. ‘Oh my God, no scrub that, New York. Let’s go shopping in New York! Actually, both. Can we do both?’
A few years ago there was this Irish couple who won an extraordinarily huge amount on the Euro lottery. I don’t recall exactly how much. Over a hundred million. They immediately announced that they were going to be giving the bulk of it away to friends, family and good causes. A wonderful approach, very admirable, very sensible. Jake and I have agreed we’ll pay off his brothers’ mortgages and buy my sister a starter place. She has never managed to get on the property ladder as she is a bit of a nomad and has travelled all over the world for years. We’ll send my parents on a world cruise. Something glorious and indulgent. Although, thinking about it, my dad suffers terribly with seasickness; we once caught a ferry to Calais and it was as nasty as a Tarantino movie, so a cruise probably isn’t ideal for them. Maybe a safari. Or is that a bit too much now they are in their seventies? A couple of weeks in a posh pad in the South of France could work. Regret rips through my body. If only Jake’s parents were alive to be part of this. They’d have been delighted. Thrilled. Well, everyone will be.
Won’t they?
My mind is working one hundred to a dozen. Thoughts zap into my head and I can’t hold onto one of them for more than a moment. There are other people who can benefit from the win. There are endless worthy charities and individuals. Jake has agreed; we don’t need to keep it all. We shouldn’t. No one needs so much money but lots of people need some money. My line of work starkly highlights that. I work at the Citizen’s Advice Bureau. My job is to deliver easily accessible community advice. I’m a generalist, a sort of gatekeeper, who often simply takes notes and listens to walk-ins. I assess difficulties and point people in the right direction, towards a specialist: a lawyer, a doctor or counsellor. No problem is too big or too small to capture my attention. My average day might involve helping to stop payday lenders ruining lives or helping people fill out job applications. I am never bored at work. I enjoy the fact that I can’t guess who I’m going to meet or help on a day-to-day basis. On the whole, I like how varied my work is and I certainly like the fact I can help, but sometimes it depresses me that people’s vulnerabilities and needs are so far-reaching. Sometimes I come home from work exhausted, aware that no matter how many people I’ve met with and advised, I will never be able to help everyone or solve everything.