There is nothing remarkable about Arlington Road, Surbiton, apart from the fact it has exactly 365 houses behind its tarmac pavements. That's enough houses to ensure that every single day of the year a significant, possibly life changing drama, will play itself out behind the bland rendered walls and plastic windows of this insignificant suburban London street.
Today's drama would unfold at number 97, the home of Gary and Anne Barnes. Both were overweight, undervalued, unloved and overburdened by the demands of just keeping up. It was not children or love that kept them together, those cohesives weren't present. It was pure lack of inertia, and the resulting lack of energy that rendered them unable to move on. Married for eighteen years they were deeply in love once, but, so typically, the love had died.
At 9.30 pm on a dark dank Friday evening Gary came home from the pub. The ritual was the same every Friday evening. After a weeks hard graft on one building site or another Gary would blow half of his negligible weekly spending money on a few hard earned beers at the pub , then pick up 2 lots of fish and chips, 2 bottles of cheap red wine, and one lottery scratch card.
Gary stumbled through the front door wearing the soiled yellow high viz vest which was rarely off his back. His balding head and face were glowing from the alcohol and the exertion of transporting his heavy bulk along with the shopping. Anne offered no welcome from her semi-permanent seat on the couch in front of the Tv and Gary offered no sign of acknowledgement of her presence.
Gary clumsily banged the wine bottles and vinegar smelling paper wrap on the coffee table. Anne had the Friday night wine glasses at the ready and reached over to top them up while Gary started unwrapping and digging in to his tepid food with his fingers. Every Friday night was the same.
Gary fished the lottery ticket out of his pocket and without a word slid it in Anne's direction. Anne briefly dwelt on the fact that they had long ago abandoned the pretence of any affection, and could rarely muster any niceties of conversation...but she didn't really care. It was too late.
Anne held the ticket in front of her eyes as if willing it to hold the key to another, better life. They had won a few small cash prizes in the past but had virtually given up hope of any big win. Together they went through this humiliating, dispiriting ritual week after week.
Anne reached into her purse for a coin and began to slowly scrape away the foil covering.
The ticket revealed two 100,000's but that wasn't unusual..Three were needed for a win.
Yeh sure she thought, what are the chances? Impatiently she rubbed off the remainder of the foil.
Holy shit the words came burst out with an involuntary gasp.
holy shit Gary!
Gary jumped up and grabbed the ticket, his eyes widened as he slowly registered what he saw...could they...had they won £100,000?
Simultaneously they reached for their glasses and took a large gulp. Together they laughed out loud, something they hadn't done for a very long long time. Realization slowly crept in.
Bloody hell Anne, what are we going to do with it?
Pay the cards off and have a bloody good holiday of course, she replied without hesitation.
But in their own minds they were already beginning to form their own plans.
Quick Gary, phone the claim line and check its not a mistake
Gary hesitated for a few seconds, his mind was on a bigger picture.
He knew what he would do. He went through to the kitchen to make the call, first picking up the food wrappings to make it look like he had good reason. He called the claim line.
How can i help you this evening came the reply. Hello......... hello
Gary didn't respond and after a few seconds ended the call.
Got to call in office hours he coolly mumbled through the doorway. From 9 in the morning.
They began discussing how they would use the money. Gifts for family and friends, a new car of course, new kitchen, at least they didn't have kids they would have to share the spoils with. They continued the masquerade for the best part of an hour, both of them oblivious to the scheming plans and hidden excitement of the other. Gary noticed Anne carefully zip the ticket into a pocket in her purse and drop the purse to the floor. It looked like it was staying there for the night. Result thought Gary.
He was pleased to hear Anne say the wine had gone to her head, she wasn't thinking straight, and she had to get up to bed. Just what he wanted. He stood and gave her a peck on the cheek and wished her goodnight.
Great, just himself, a bottle of wine, and his scheming devious mind.
After a couple of minutes of deliberation he picked up his phone. He sent an SMS message to Daniel who lived in relative isolation in a rented cottage in rural Surrey some 30 miles away.
Whats your address, birthdate and address and postcode bro? I'm on to something
While he waited for his brothers reply he reviewed his plans. He didn't need to think long or hard about what his plans for the future were - Cannabis farmer, small investment, large rewards, little effort, easy life.
Gary and Daniel had agreed their plan long ago, 50/50 deal, they just needed the cash to put it together. Anne would never let Gary grow at home, she was too straight, but Daniel had the ideal premises and some very dodgy contacts.
Must lay off the wine he thought, got to keep a cool head. His phone buzzed, thank Christ, Daniel had responded fast. He noted down his brothers details. He ignored Daniels questioning whats up bro?
Anne was snoring loudly upstairs...perfect...for once in his life it all seemed to be going well, an omen...it was meant to be.
He called the claims line again. The assistant asked him to scratch off the hidden code and to his delight confirmed it corresponded with a possible £100,000 prize if it qualified. She asked for his name and address and said she would send the claim form. Without hesitation Gary gave his brothers name and address.
Gary messaged his brother to say he was on his way over. He picked up a discarded envelope and a biro and on the back scratched out the words
Like a bat out of hell
He swapped his note for the lottery ticket, slipped upstairs and grabbed his wash bag and at 1.10 am walked out of the front door of Arlington Road for the last time.
Gary was normally out of bed and dressed well before Anne was up. It wasn't until she washed her face with cold water she remembered the lottery ticket, and at the very same time she noticed his wash bag was gone from the hook on the door. She ran downstairs as fast as her dressing gown would allow her. She franticly grabbed her purse and unzipped the pocket. Her fingers went straight to the note.
Like a bat out of hell
She didn't even bother searching for the ticket. She knew it was gone.
With a huge grin on her face she picked up her cell phone and messaged her next door neighbour.
Dan, get your sweet naked arse over here right now, she typed
He's gone!
Interesting post. We want more!
Hey thanks..More on their way! BTW - are you a bot? If not, don't take this wrong Is just that I haven't had any meaningful feedback on any of my articles for a while.
Team 101 here is your bot test... Tell me...what is more beautiful to you..A flower or an electromagnetic signal?
Thought so..If there's one thing worse than getting no comments it's getting a comment from a bot..There is nothing more defiling, insulting and degrading.