Read Online Did I Mention I Won The Lottery? by Julie Butterfield - Free Book Online Page B

no new business to be had,
she just couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She watched his
mouth move, his words falling out. She needed to tell him. She
wanted to tell him.
    ‘I’m going to
Leeds tomorrow.’
    Daniel stopped
mid-sentence and stared at Rebecca, his fork halfway to his mouth.
‘Again!’
    Rebecca didn’t
answer.
    ‘But you’ve
only just got back, why are you going again?’
    ‘Because I want
to visit mum again.’
    ‘But you’ve
only just visited her. Why do you need to go again so soon?’
    Rebecca carried
on eating, meeting Daniel’s eyes across the table.
    ‘I mean,’ he
grumbled, ‘you are my wife. Is it too much to expect that you could
stay at home with me occasionally? Look after me instead of running
off to Leeds every two minutes to visit your mum. What about
me?’
    Rebecca thought
about pointing out that this may have been the second visit in the
last two weeks but she had gone months before that without
traveling to Leeds because Daniel always made so much fuss about
spending money on train fares when there were bills to pay. She
stared at him as he shoved a forkful of vegetables in his mouth. He
hadn’t asked her about her mum. Hadn’t asked if she had been okay.
He hadn’t asked about Sarah, whether Rebecca had met with her, if
she was okay. He hadn’t actually asked about anything, her journey,
whether she had had a good time, where she had stayed.
    In fact,
Rebecca mused, Daniel didn’t really ask her anything anymore, other
than when his food would be ready. He didn’t ask about her day,
about her health, about what she was doing.
    He complained.
He complained that she hadn’t done enough chips or that she had
done too much rice. He complained that she hadn’t put any petrol in
the car or that she had forgotten to buy his favourite shaving
foam. He complained that she had the heating up too high, the
lights too low, the TV on too loud.
    He complained a
lot.
    And he told her
things. He told her how hard his life was, how unfairly he was
treated at work. He told her constantly how hard he had to work to
keep the roof over her head. He told her that things hadn’t gone
well, that the potential customers he had spent the weekend trying
to impress had gone to another packaging firm. He told her that he
was fed up with Peter Thompson, fed up with being overlooked. He
told her how disappointed he was with his life, how he had been let
down after all his hard work.
    He told her
lots of things but he never asked her anything anymore.
    He was still
talking. ‘It’s not easy you know, coming home and having to look
after yourself after a hard day at work. Just having you here
occasionally isn’t too much to ask. Another visit so soon seems
unreasonable to me. You live here!’
    Now, thought
Rebecca. Tell him now. Tell him that there’s 15.7 million in the
bank and he doesn’t have to work anymore. Tell him that you’ve
spent 2 million on a house in Leeds and you want to leave
Darlington.
    ‘Daniel…’
    ‘What?’
    ‘It’s only for
a couple of nights, you’ll be fine.’

    Rebecca caught
the train to Leeds the next morning. She had booked into Quebecs
again and was delighted to hear them say how happy they were that
she was coming back and would she like the same room. She arrived
early again, left her case to be taken to her room, smiled at the
receptionist and then walked down to Annie’s office where she was
treated to a warm welcome and the offer of a coffee.
    ‘I just wanted
to catch up,’ explained Annie. ‘The vendors have drawn up a list of
all the furniture that they are prepared to leave. There are just
one or two bits and pieces that they want to keep but the rest are
yours. Here’s the itinerary.’
    Rebecca took it
and read through the pages of descriptions. It didn’t mean a great
deal. She hadn’t fallen in love with the furniture because of the
name or the style but because it had all looked so right, part of
the home she had decided to