She doesn’t know where she went wrong with Seb. He was such a clever, intuitive child; the one at nursery looking after the other children; the one checking in with everyone overdinner; the one cuddling Tilly when she banged her knee. And now he’s . . . this. When Paula was thirty, she was a fully formed human being, wasn’t she? And now she’ll be leaving him an orphan, he’ll be even more of a hopeless case. She’ll have to haunt him until he gets his act together.
The woman examines her pink nails. ‘I’m actually here because I’m . . . well, shucks, I’m like you.’ The maybe-Texan pauses, looking Paula in the eye. There is something about the way she says this. Something Paula doesn’t like.
‘Let me get you a cup of coffee and we’ll talk,’ she announces with authority, moving swiftly around the kitchen, finding teaspoons and Nescafé like she’s been here a thousand times before.
‘What do you mean you’re like me?’
Paula takes Teddy in. She must only be forty-something, one of those WAG types you used to read so much about in the papers. She’s striding around Paula’s home in the tiniest of skirts, the hugest of sunglasses on her face, with a confidence Paula’s never felt. Imagine having the backbone to wander into a stranger’s kitchen, uninvited! Just because adult sons don’t know how to close doors.
This woman isnothinglike her.
Teddy turns at last to face Paula. ‘I mean I won the lottery too, babe.’ The kettle hisses furiously from the counter and Teddy picks it up, filling cups with steaming liquid. She stirs too quickly, sloshing brown water all over the counter. She doesn’t notice. ‘Not as much as you, mind.’
Paula barely takes in the words, wondering again about the accent. It no longer sounds Texan. Now it’s more like . . . Boston, maybe? Like she’s come straight from the set of some over-ambitious police – sorry,cop– drama.
Wait – did she just say shewon the lottery as well?
The woman brings the mugs over to the table, taking John’s seat across from Paula and smiling that lipstick-stained smile again.
‘Set For Life. I won ten thousand a month for thirty years.’ She sips the too-hot coffee without reacting. ‘Like I said, nowhere near your winnings – just over twenty mill sterling, wasn’t it, babe? – but it’ll do me!’ She laughs dryly. ‘It’s enough to make me very happy indeed.’ She looks down at the tight, pink skirt she’s wearing. ‘You see this? Six grand it cost, if you can imagine such a thing! Believe me, I know it’s dumb. But’ – she shrugs – ‘if I get carried away with my spending one month, I know I’ve got another windfall coming the next! I love it.’
Paula tries to take in Teddy’s words. This woman . . . won the lottery, too? Is that possible?
Her head spins. She hasn’t got her head around her own win – hers and John’s – and now another lottery jackpotter is here, sitting in her kitchen, drinking her coffee.
Paula doesn’t even drink coffee! She only has that instant stuff in the cupboard for the builders who are always due over to fix leaks and never turn up.
Paula shakes her head. What’s she doing here? What is this? Some kind of strange welcome to the lottery club? An initiation? Perhaps it’s something Tilly’s arranged, to help Paula come to terms with her win?
And how is it possible on God’s green earth that such a small amount of material cost this woman sixthousandpounds?
‘What have you done with your cash so far then, Paula babe?’ Teddy is looking at her through dark, tinted lenses.Paula can just about make out thick, clumpy, black eyelashes. She’s giving Paula alarmingly intense eye contact. ‘It’s been a couple of months, right? You must be having an absolute blast. How much of it have you spent so far?’ She glances around the kitchen, disapproval at its mediocrity clear in her expression.
‘Spent?’ Paula is still trying to get a grip on this conversation. ‘I haven’t spent anything.’ She looks down at the watery coffee on the table before her. It’s gone four o’clock. Sheneverhas caffeine this late in the day.
She takes a sip.
Paula finds herself explaining. ‘I can’t spend it. It feels obscene – wrong. It all feels wrong. I can’t do it. I don’t want it.’
Teddy immediately tuts. ‘It’s not wrong, babe! You’veearnedit.’ She raises an eyebrow and Paula gets the feeling she means something more by this comment. She’s never been terribly good with innuendos or double entendre. Gary at the care home says confusing things sometimes and the meals-on-wheels lady always has to explain the joke to Paula. Not that Paula understands the explanations particularly well either. What on earth is pegging anyway and what’s it got to do with the royals?
Teddy leans across the table, almost dipping a boob in her coffee. She doesn’t seem to notice. ‘Seriously, you have to enjoy the money, Paula. What’s the point, otherwise? What was the point of all that . . . effort?’
‘Effort?’ Paula echoes, shaking her head, still trying to make sense of all this.
Maybe she was right in the first place – the woman’s mad. She’d have to be to spend six thousand pounds on a skirt.And for goodness’ sake, who is really calledTeddyanyway? Only mad people and reality stars. ‘Look, I don’t want to appear rude’ – she pauses, aware this is a silly thing to say to a stranger who has made herself at home in her kitchen – ‘but whoareyou? What are you doing here? I don’t understand what this is.’
Teddy sits back, smiling enigmatically. ‘Well,’ she begins, then pauses. ‘Me and a friend are putting together a group of . . . like-minded women,’ she explains in a lowered voice, elongating her vowels. ‘We’re both lottery winners who’ve . . . lost our husbands. We’re thinking of calling ourselves – are you ready for this, babe? – The Lottery Winner Widows Club!’ She pauses. ‘And we want you to join.’
Paula gasps. ‘Widows? You mean . . .? Oh my goodness, has your husband passed away as well?’ Her brow furrows. ‘I’m so sorry to hear that. I know all too well how very difficult—’
Teddy shrugs. ‘Not dead, not officially. He’smissing.’ She does air-quotes around the word missing. ‘He’s been MIA for two years now. Since just after the win.’ She winks at Paula through her sunglasses. ‘If you catch my drift.’ She leans back now, smirking. ‘But you know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you?’
Paula definitely doesn’t know exactly what she’s talking about. Not even vaguely, actually.
‘Um, Teddy’ – it’s hard to say that name without feeling very silly indeed – ‘what exactly are you implying?’
Teddy picks up her coffee again, taking a very loud slurp and leaving bright red lipstick marks all along the rim. It’ll have to go in the dishwasher more than once, Paula’s sure of it. Maybe even three times. ‘I’m not implying anything, babe,’the woman says at last, looking Paula in the eyes. She leans back, reaching for the enormous sunglasses and removing them at last. Paula see the woman’s eyes for the first time, bright blue and framed by long black eyelashes. Teddy grins, suddenly looking more like a movie star than a WAG. ‘I’m telling you straight. I killed my husband after we won the lottery.’ She leaves a beat before adding the literal killer blow: ‘Just like you did.’
