Diary of a Lottery Winner's Daughter Read online

‘People will think you’ve been drinking,’ I told her.

  ‘They can think what they like. I don’t care; I’m a millionairess.’

  We giggled like Lauren and I do sometimes, sitting at the back in French. It was nice. Not that Mum isn’t usually happy, because she is, but this was exciting, and it was fun being up so early when everyone else was asleep.

  ‘What’s going to happen?’ I said. ‘I mean, what happens now?’

  ‘Well, Dad and I are going to London on Wednesday to collect the prize money. I think we’ll come straight back afterwards. We did think about spending the night there in a posh hotel and seeing a show, but you know what your Dad’s like with hotels.’I didn’t, but I kept quiet because I didn’t want to interrupt. Besides, I could imagine that he’d be really uncomfortable with people running round, carrying his luggage for him and he’d be worrying about how much he’d have to tip them.

  ‘Besides, you’ve all got your first day back at school so it won’t seem right not to be here and I don’t want to have to ask Grumps to come and stay over;you know what he’s like.’

  This time I did know what she meant. Grumps isn’t the best childminder in the world. Last time he looked after us Mum told him to give us fishfingers and chips for tea because it was easy. Grumps tried to make the chips in an old deep fat fryer he found at the back of a cupboard and it caught alight and nearly burnt the house down. Spencer had to explain to him about oven chips and in the end we cooked it ourselves, once the smoke had cleared out of the kitchen.

  ‘I think the best thing is to try and keep everything as normal as possible until we’ve had time to think.’

  ‘Can’t we come to London with you?’

  ‘Do you want to? It’ll probably be really boring and you’d miss the first day back at school. Besides, I don’t think we can afford train fares for all of us . . .’Then she realised what she’d said and we were off laughing again.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Chelsea appeared in the doorway, looking sleepy and crumpled but perfectly happy. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘It’s half past five,’ said Mum. ‘I haven’t seen you up so early since Christmas morning when you were four.’

  Chelsea groaned. ‘Why does it have to be Sunday today. The shops don’t open until ten o’clock! We are going to have the most amazing shopping trip ever.’

  Mum looked uncertain. ‘It might have to wait until we’ve actually got the money. I wouldn’t be comfortable spending money until it’s in my bank account . . .’

  Chelsea sat down opposite Mum. ‘Okay, fine,’ she said, taking a biscuit out of the tin and nibbling on it. This new Chelsea was making me nervous. No way was it fine with her. Why did she look so relaxed? I should have known better.

  ‘So, Mum. What are you going to wear when you go up to London? You’ll need to look smart . . . you’ll have to knock them out with your outfit.’

  Chelsea continued to nibble, eyeing Mum over her biscuit.’Have you still got that flowery dress you wore to

  Uncle Ron’s wedding? It was only ten years ago; it should still fit you. There’s always the old reliable black skirt and white blouse but then you might be mistaken for one of the waitresses handing out champagne. I’ve heard they put on quite a party at Camelot . . . ‘

  She’d said enough. Mum looked totally panicked. I have to admire Chelsea at moments like this. She certainly knows exactly the right buttons to push.

  ‘Maybe it can’t do any harm to go and have a look in Marks and Spencer’s,’ Mum said.

  I went back to bed. If we were going shopping I’d need all the strength I could get. I finally drifted off to sleep to the sound of Chelsea singing as she took a long soak in the bath.

  We all set off together for the shopping trip. There was a bit of a panic before we left the house because Mum didn’t want to take the ticket with her. She said she’d be too worried about losing it and besides she might be trying clothes on. Everyone started suggesting the best place to put it. Spencer tried to stick it onto the fridge with a fridge magnet but Chelsea told him not to be so stupid. Word about our win was bound to be all over the estate and someone might break in and nick it.

  Mum started to panic even though Spencer tried to persuade her that this wasn’t going to happen and, even if it did, they’d never be able to claim the money because the cashier in Tesco was witness to the fact that it was her ticket. In the end she hid it in the teabag tin, underneath the teabags.

  After we’d parked the car, Dad and Spencer sloped off, saying they had to go and check something out in the computer shop.

  I soon wished I’d stayed at home. Clothes shopping isn’t exactly my favourite thing. Every morning (except the weekends, obviously) I’m actually thankful for my school uniform; weird, I know, but at least it means I don’t have to think about what I’m going to wear.

  Eventually we stopped for lunch. Chelsea tried to drag Mum into a hyper-trendy restaurant by the river, but Mum put her foot down when she saw the menu by the door.

  ‘Twenty-two pounds for a plate of fish and chips!’ Mum was seriously outraged.

  ‘But Mum, it doesn’t matter any more,’ explained Chelsea patiently.’You can afford it now - you’re a millionaire, remember?’

  ‘I don’t care,’ said Mum. ‘I wouldn’t pay that much even if I was a billionaire. It’s not right.’

  I could see Chelsea was seriously disappointed, but she knew when she was beaten. We still had a nice lunch at our usual café, only this time we could have what we wanted and didn’t have to go for the special offers, though I noticed Mum did anyway.

  Dad and Spencer joined us for lunch but then disappeared again - Spencer mumbling something about the Games Workshop.

  It wasn’t until Mum and Chelsea were collecting all their bags together that they even noticed me and my lack of shopping.

  ‘Charlotte! Haven’t you got anything?’ said Mum, looking concerned. ‘Didn’t you see any nice clothes you wanted?’

  The truth is that I hadn’t. I had looked while Mum and Chelsea were busy but I couldn’t find anything. I was about to say,’ I don’t know what to get,’ but I could see from the glint in Chelsea’s eye that she was planning a massive makeover for me.

  ‘Ooh, there is something I really want,’ I said quickly before she could drag me into Top Shop. ‘I really need a new notebook and some pens and stuff, for school on Wednesday. And maybe a new school bag,’ I added, improvising madly,’ and I wouldn’t mind going to the bookshop.’

  Chelsea heaved a huge sigh. ‘Can’t you just give her some money, Mum, and then she can go and get all her boring stuff while we finish our proper shopping?’

  In the end, Mum agreed and we went to the cash machine. I could tell Mum was nervous getting so much money out. She gave me a hundred pounds! Then she changed her mind and took thirty away. I didn’t complain because I would have been a bit frightened walking around on my own with that much money.

  I soon wished I hadn’t been so pathetic though, because once I started spending, I couldn’t stop, and the money was soon all gone.

  I spent about an hour in Paperchase drooling over all the lovely notebooks (not literally, obviously, or they would have thrown me out for ruining their stock). In the end, I chose a lovely one covered in birds and leaves. I bought a pen with Charlotte printed on it and a pencil case. I found a new bag for school then spent the rest of the time (and the money) in the bookshop. I ended up with seven books and I was glad I’d bought a new bag because I knew what Chelsea would say if she saw I’d spent most of my money on books. This way I could hide them in my bag and hope she didn’t ask me what I’d bought.

  Not that I needed to worry on that score. When I got back to the car the others were already there, trying to fit all the bags into the boot. Mum had obviously overcome her worry about spending the money before she’d picked up the cheque. I’d never seen so many bags! Chelsea was on a shopping high and was going on about all the stuff her and Mum had bought even though nobo
dy was listening.

  On the way home I wondered where I was going to put all my new books. We only had a tiny bookcase in our bedroom and it was already full. I really wish I could have a big bookcase full of lovely books. And a quiet corner to read them in. We were driving down a street with big old houses and I saw a ‘for sale’ sign.

  ‘Mum? Are we going to buy a new house?’ I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought about this before now, but I couldn’t remember anyone saying anything about it. They must have talked about it last night after I’d fallen asleep, because Chelsea said,

  ‘Well, duh. Of course we are. Why would we stay in our poxy house when we could be living in luxury? I wonder about you sometimes, I really do. Mum, are you sure you didn’t adopt Charlotte? Or bring the wrong baby home from the hospital?’

  ‘It was you that got mixed up at the hospital, not me,’ I retorted.

  ‘Enough,’ said Mum. I shut up, because I wanted to know the answer to my question.

  ‘We’ll have to move, because it wouldn’t be fair to stay in a council house when there are people out there who really need them.’

  ‘We could buy someone else a house and stay in ours if it makes you feel better,’ said Spencer.

  Chelsea hit him and I said,’ It’s all right for you, you’ve got your own bedroom. If it was you sharing with Chelsea, you’d be down the estate agent’s first thing tomorrow, trust me.’

  ‘The important thing is not to do anything too hasty,’ said Mum. ‘Let’s just wait and see, shall we?’

  Now we’re back I’m sitting on my bunk, keeping out of the way while Chelsea examines all her new clothes. Sixth Formers are allowed to wear their own clothes to school. Chelsea was just holding up a new top and admiring herself in the mirror.

  She opened a drawer and started pulling things out to make way for her new stuff. First to go was her old school uniform and she threw it at me, saying,’ There you go. It’s all yours. You might grow into it one day, you never know.’

  ‘What, you mean like one day - when I’m pregnant, I said. Chelsea’s not really fat but every time she teases me about my height, I tease her about her weight.

  I can’t wait until I’ve got my own room and won’t have to climb over piles of clothes any more or listen to Chelsea scream and shout when she can’t find a clean pair of knickers. I shall be blissfully unaware, in my own wing with any luck.

  Monday 30th August

  Today was frighteningly normal, considering that we’re now millionaires. Chelsea wanted to go shopping again, but Mum said half the shops would be shut on a bank holiday so Chelsea started to look on the internet for a new house. Then a fight broke out because Spencer needed the internet as well and we’ve only got the one computer. Dad broke it up and told Chelsea to let Spencer use it because he needed it more.

  ‘What could be more important than finding us a new house?’ shouted Chelsea.

  ‘Finding me a new school,’ Spencer shouted back.

  It turned out that Spencer had decided he wanted to go to a new school, and now Mum and Dad could afford for him to go to a private school they’d agreed that he could have a look at some.

  ‘That’s not fair,’ shouted Chelsea. ‘What if I want to go to a new school as well? Can’t I go to one of those posh boarding schools?’

  I thought that was a brilliant idea and held my breath, hoping that Mum would agree. ‘Nobody is going to boarding school,’ said Mum firmly. ‘I didn’t have children just to let someone else bring them up.’

  I don’t think she’s thought that one through. I’d be happy if Chelsea went to boarding school. The only boarding school I’d want to go to is Hogwarts and that’s never going to happen.

  In the end, Chelsea stomped off to our room and Dad and Spencer looked up schools in our area. I could hear Spencer telling Dad that perhaps he should think about sending Chelsea to Brat Camp now we could afford it.

  ‘You might be right, son,’ Dad muttered back.

  I went round to Lauren’s house.

  Tuesday 31st August

  Mum, Dad and Spencer went out this morning. They’ve managed to get an emergency interview with the headmaster of the school that Spencer wants to go to. Spencer was dead nervous in case he had to sit an exam, but Dad said it was unlikely and his reports from Avon Comp should be enough to get him a place.

  I was just settling down with a good book when Chelsea wandered into the room. She was all dressed up and looked amazing. I wondered if she’d finally got a date with Josh and decided she must have, because she kept looking out of the window like she was expecting someone.

  She was re-doing her mascara in the hall mirror when the doorbell rang. I peeped through the window to get a look at her hot date and nearly died from shock. There were loads of people on the doorstep! There was even a bloke

  with a television camera balanced on his shoulder. I ducked down and crawled across the room, then peered round the door. Chelsea had flung the door open and was standing on the doorstep talking to them! I was nearly blinded by the flashes going off on their cameras but Chelsea stood there striking a pose. They all started firing questions at her and she was laughing and chatting away like she was used to having the paparazzi camped on her doorstep.

  Her moment of fame didn’t last long though. As soon as the reporters discovered that it wasn’t her who had bought the lottery ticket, the flashes stopped going off and the man with the TV camera wearily lowered it off his shoulder. ‘So when will your mum be back then?’ said one of them, looking at his watch.

  ‘Any minute now,’ said Chelsea. ‘Maybe you could do an article on what it’s like to be the daughter of a lottery winner,’ she added desperately. None of them looked convinced that that would be a good idea. One of the reporters’ phones went off and he peeled away. The others were eyeing him nervously and I could tell that they were all worried that he’d got a bigger, better story and they were wondering whether or not to follow him. I was worried that Chelsea would get so desperate to keep them there that she’d end up doing something stupid, like strip off or something.

  Thankfully, at that moment, our car pulled up and Mum and Dad got out, so all the reporters dashed over there and the flashes started going off again. Chelsea pouted. Then Spencer slunk up the garden path, so I followed him into the kitchen to find out how it went at the school. He was really excited and said it was awesome and the science labs were excellent and the headmaster had said he could start there at the beginning of term. Spencer gets longer holidays now so he doesn’t have to go back to school tomorrow like me. He didn’t rub it in though.

  Later we all watched the local news and Mum and Dad were on it. Mum looked a bit shocked, which I guess anyone would if they’d just got out of their car and found themselves in the limelight. Chelsea was furious, because all the bits she’d done before Mum and Dad got back had been cut and she wasn’t on it at all.

  ‘I wonder how they found out,’ said Mum. ‘I suppose the people at Tesco must have tipped them off.’

  I didn’t point out that they couldn’t have known where we lived or that Chelsea was even more tarted up than usual.

  Wednesday 1st September

  It was great to be back at school. As usual, Lauren called for me on her way past and then we met up with Karly and Tiffany. I was a bit nervous because I didn’t know if news about our win had got round the school. It wasn’t too bad though. Everyone was over-excited anyway about meeting up with all their friends again.

  Chelsea caused a bit of a scene this morning when she realised she wasn’t going up to London with Mum and Dad, but then she calmed down because she didn’t want to miss her first day back and all the fuss our win would cause at school. I could tell she was dying to tell Sophie and Amber about it.

  Some of the other girls in my form were standing about having a laugh at the newbies in Year 7. Their uniforms were too big and too tidy and they either looked really nervous or overly cocky. I was trying not to get hung up on the fact that mo
st of them were taller than me.

  Occasionally someone would come up to me and say,’ Is it true your mum won the lottery?’ and Lauren would tell them to go away.

  Of course, Karly and Tiffany wanted all the news and I didn’t mind telling them about it. I had been terrified that they might be funny with me but I needn’t have worried. They were my friends and it was so good to be back. Every one was talking at once and saying what they’d buy and which clothes shops they’d go in and where they’d go on holiday. I was about to say that it was my mum who’d won the money and it wasn’t as if I suddenly had millions to personally dispose of, but I kept quiet in the end because they were having so much fun.

  ‘I’d buy shoes,’ said Karly. ‘Thousands of them, and a whole room to keep them in.’

  Tiffany said she’d get a horse. ‘A proper one, one of those Arabian stallions, not a pony or anything. Please say you’ll get a horse, Charlotte, and then I can come and ride it.’I didn’t like to point out that a horse in the middle of Bristol just wasn’t going to work. It got me thinking though. I’d always wished I could have a pet but Mum always said the house was too small. I brought the school hamster home for the holidays once to try and convince her that no house was too small for a hamster, but it kept everyone awake all night going round on its wheel; even when we shut it in the kitchen, so I guess she was right.

  Some of the boys took to calling me Charlottery for a bit, but it wasn’t that funny so it soon wore off. I wondered what was happening in the Sixth Form. I was sure that Chelsea would be milking the attention.

  The only lesson I don’t have with Lauren this year is maths, because she’s in the top set and I’m in the bottom set. However hard I try I’m just hopeless at it. Not like Spencer, who seems to have been born with a calculator embedded in his brain.

  Everything was so reassuringly normal. We had the same form tutor as last year, Mr Lawson. The school had decided that we’d stick with the same form tutor all through lower school, so we’d get him next year as well, which was fine because he was nice and funny but not in a sad ‘I’m trying to get down with the kids’ way. I feel sorry for the other form though, because they’re stuck with old Beecham for three years and she’s horrible. She’s definitely had a sense of humour bypass. She takes us for RE and I’m sure she goes out of her way to make it as boring as humanly possible.