Did I Mention I Won The Lottery? by Julie Butterfield

for her age she mused. Nothing that a visit to the
hairdresser and the beauty counter at Boots couldn’t sort out. She
shook out all the creams and potions she had bought the day before
and tried to remember the benefits of each one. She opened one pot
and inhaled the contents. It smelled divine, she could feel it
working its magic before it even touched her skin. It was rich and
creamy and yet light as a feather. For someone who normally bought
her moisturiser from the supermarket with the weekly shop, it was
quite a change and closing her eyes she stroked the soft cream
across her cheek and relished the feel of it sinking into her tired
pores. She dabbed some serum around her eyes, a different cream on
her hands and elbows and a squirt of a new perfume across the
hollow of her neck. Satisfied, she wandered to the sitting area and
took the room service menu from the table. A few minutes later she
had ordered a bottle of excellent white wine - at least the person
who took her order said it was excellent – together with a fillet
steak and salad. She had been asked if she would like some
strawberries to follow, the kitchen had received some fresh in that
day and Rebecca had decided yes, she would very much like some
strawberries to finish her meal. And when the waiter delivered it
to her door what seemed like only minutes later he reported to the
kitchen staff what a very pleasant lady was in the Robinson suite -
and that wasn’t just because she had tipped him £20.
    When Rebecca’s
eyes were drooping, in part due to her busy day and in part due to
a large glass of white wine, she had gathered all the glossy
magazines and house details into a neat pile on the coffee table
and slid into the bed with its turned down corner and its wonderful
deep nest of a quilt and had the best night’s sleep she had slept
in many years.

Chapter 5

    Rebecca ordered
room service again for her breakfast. She was making the most of
these few days and it was such a change to have her meals delivered
to her door each day. She had it set down in the sitting area and
then curled up on the settee tucking into her croissants as she
took another glance at the estate agents brochures. She had said no
to a glass and chrome house which was sleek minimalist and totally
impractical. She had said no to a mock Georgian new build that
looked exactly like a mock Georgian new build. She had said no to
the seven bedrooms overlooking the golf course - she couldn’t
imagine anything worse. And she had said no to the farmhouse that
came with 17 acres and several barns.
    But she had
said yes to the three houses before her. One in particular had
caught her eye. It was further out of Leeds than she was thinking
but built of the most wonderful mellow old stone. It was set down a
long drive for privacy and despite the fact that it had several
reception rooms and the most glorious, great big kitchen, it had a
warm welcoming air to it that had immediately taken Rebecca’s
fancy. There seemed to be a lot of pale cream settees scattered
around that Rebecca felt would not suit the average family with
children and dogs and a plethora of muddy feet. But Rebecca didn’t
have to worry about those things anymore and although she also felt
it might be a little large for just her and Daniel, she couldn’t
wait to visit. There were two more, similar in style that she would
visit tomorrow but this was the one that interested Rebecca. She
glanced at her watch. She had decided to get a taxi to her mother’s
residential home. It was easily reached by bus but Rebecca had
elected not to wait at the bus station in the freezing cold and
instead she retired to the bathroom to have another deep luxurious
bubble bath as she closed her eyes and dreamt of a beautiful honey
stone house within driving distance of Leeds.
    When Rebecca
got out of the taxi she knew Gwen had remembered her daughter was
visiting that day. Rebecca opened the main door to the house and
then rang the intercom on