Ivy slowly shakes her head, turning back to Audrey. ‘But you’veallwon the lottery?’
Audrey nods eagerly. ‘I didn’t win all that much, a mere half a million. But Teddy here pocketed almost eight hundred million bucks, if you can imagine! Then Paula won her twenty-one million pounds a couple of months ago.’ Shepauses, looking at Ivy penetratingly. ‘And you won three point eight million pounds, isn’t that right? On the Lotto?’
Paula studies the young woman’s face as she slowly nods. She is so young. Younger, even, than her own children. What would it be like to win so much money at such a young age?
‘And your husband . . .’ Audrey begins carefully. ‘He died about a year ago now, didn’t he? He . . . fell down the stairs, am I right?’ Ivy’s face has darkened, but she nods again. ‘We understand,’ Audrey continues, adding in a whisper, ‘Better than anyone, we understand.’
Paula watches Audrey with wonder. How does she know all this? What secrets does she carry with her under that scarf?
Teddy clears her throat. ‘Shall we come in or would you like to meet us somewhere? A coffee shop or—’
Ivy shakes her head again. ‘I don’t understand,’ she stutters. ‘I don’t know what this is, or who . . . who . . . you are. But I’m . . . um, I’m trying to move on. I’ve put what happened behind me. I just want to live my life.’ She swallows hard and Paula fights an urge to reach for her. She steps forward, out of Teddy’s shadow.
‘But can you?’ she asks her softly. ‘Can you move on? Can you live your life?’
Ivy stares at her. After a moment, her face crumbles. She swipes at her eyes, then opens the door wider. ‘You better come in,’ she whispers as a tear rolls down her cheek.
‘The four musketeers,’ Teddy whispers under her breath as they cross the threshold and enter the latest member of TLWWC’s house.
13
From: [email protected]
Subject: TLWWC
Hello John,
How are you? Is that a silly question? I suppose it is.
I’m having the strangest week. And I thought winning the lottery and my husband dying was a funny one.
I think I’ve made some friends. They’re lottery winners, too, like me. Like us. Their names are Audrey, Ivy and Teddy. Teddy has the most beautiful hair – it’s even nicer than Sigourney Weaver’s! They call themselves The Lottery Winner Widows Club.
Ivy is the newest member of our group – we only met her on Thursday. She’s got a lovely big house and we talked for a long time in her living room. She made me a peppermint tea and then complimented Audrey’s scarf. Then Audrey said it wasn’t a scarf, it was a pashmina, which I had to google afterwards. Apparently a pashmina is much fancier than a boring old scarf, and ismade with the finest cashmere wool. So then I googled what cashmere wool is and it turns out it’s wool from cashmere goats. Don’t ask me what cashmere goats are because I got a bit tired of googling after that and went to watch Selling Sunset instead.
I’m getting off topic.
So, like I said, all three of them have won the lottery, but they also – I think I should probably just blurt this out because I don’t know how to bring it up naturally – killed their husbands. Which I know must seem very shocking to you, but they really did have their reasons. Poor Ivy is such a sweetheart and awfully young – only 27 – and her husband sounded like a really dreadful man. He used to hurt her, physically. He would beat her when he was drunk. Which was every night, by the sound of things. They were together for twelve years. They met when Ivy was only fifteen and he was in his mid-twenties. Which was hard to hear, I have to say. She ended up pushing him down the stairs a little over a year ago. And it’s difficult not to think . . . good for you, Ivy.
I’m afraid they think I killed you, too. I’ve tried to explain, but they just don’t believe me and it’s getting too awkward to keep insisting.
Last week, they took me to see a house that’s for sale. Though it’s hard to imagine anyone thinking of such a place as a house. It was gigantic! Like Downton Abbey but with fewer servants kissing each other. I’m sorry, I know you hated that show.
It was beautiful and they couldn’t understand why I didn’t love it. And I don’t know how to explain to them why it’s so hard for me to see things change. They don’tseem to understand that I’m grieving. And I’m not talking about my grief for your death. I mean that I’m grieving a life we might’ve had together with all this money. A life I thought we might be able to have one day. These women – these new friends – they don’t understand that you and I talked about what kind of house we’d buy if we ever had that kind of money. It’s hard to explain any of it. To anyone. Even to myself.
Maybe this is what Tilly means by saying grief has tentacles.
Although I really wish she would stop saying it.
I think about you a lot.
Paula
14
A loud knock at the front door makes Paula jump.
