The Lottery

After playing the same numbers every week for two decades, this old couple is in for an unexpected surprise

- MICHELLE HEATLEY

QUICK, quick, turn on the TV,” I yell from the kitchen as I get him another bowl of peanuts.

Sometimes he frustrates me – not in a teeth-grinding “I-could-murder-you” way – but more of a “we’ve-been-married-for-32-years-and-feel-like-hitting-you-over-the-head with-the-remote-control” sort of way.

Trouble is I’ve let him get away with it for too many years and now I’ve missed the beginning of my program. Frustrated, I flop down onto my sofa, the faded blue leather one, and glared at him sprawled out on his softer pink velvet sofa.

“See,” I say, jabbing my finger at the screen as if that would make any difference. “I told you we’d miss the beginning of the lottery show.”

He looks at me and crunches a peanut. “You won’t win. How long have you had those same numbers?” he asks, spreading out on his sofa like Nero, brushing peanut crumbs from his chest onto the floor.

“Twenty years,” I reply, picking up my pencil and holding my ticket ready, knowing he’s right. In 20 years I haven’t been a pencil tick near to winning, I think.

I REMEMBER when we were newly married we’d spend our Saturday nights snuggled up on our second-hand brown corduroy two-seat sofa, watching the show together. He crunches another peanut, and I wonder what happened between us being all “loved-up” on a brown cord two-seater and ending up sitting on separate sofas?

“Are you ready?” the presenter asks. “It’s time for our Saturday night draw and this week it’s a double rollover. Some lucky person will win a jackpot of five million!”