Lia's Guide to Winning the Lottery Read Online Free PDF Page B

the way he leant towards me. Could he really be some sort of supernatural being? Surely not . . . and yet. . .
    I pulled out my phone. Where were my friends right now? I had the biggest news of all time and there was no one here to celebrate. I could hear corks popping downstairs, Natasha shrieking, Mum laughing. I called Jack. No answer. Huh.
    A gaggle of giggling neighbours had invaded the kitchen, drinking cava with Dad, while Mum was yelling down the phone to Nana Betty in Cardiff.Mum’s voice goes super-Welsh when she’s talking to her mum or sisters, so she sounds like a camp Rugby centre-half.
    â€˜No, Mam, Lia’s won it . . . yes . . . Double Rollover. . . No . . . Lia.’
    Nana Betty’s a bit deaf.
    â€˜No, Mam,’ bellowed my mum. ‘We won’t let her fritter it all away on drugs.’
    Audrey from next door was laughing so much that she had to dash to the loo.
    Mum handed the phone to me. ‘She wants to talk to you,’ she said.
    â€˜Hi Nana!’
    â€˜Lia!’ yelled Nana, all the way from Cardiff. ‘Congratulations, my darling! How do you feel?’
    â€˜Oh, I don’t know.’ I really didn’t. ‘Excited, I suppose. Shocked. I don’t know what I’m going to do next!’
    â€˜It’ll be fine, you have fun,’ she said. ‘Just keep away from drugs and naughty boys, Lia, and you’ll be fine. Just muddle through, that’s what I always say.’
    Nana Betty has two mottoes, Just Muddle Through and Aim for the Top. My mum said once that if everyone followed Nana’s advice, the world would probably end.
    â€˜OK, Nana. Can I buy you a present?’
    Nana shrieked with laughter. ‘Don’t be silly, I’m an old lady. I’ve got everything I need. You spend it on yourself, darling, and Natasha. Money is wasted on the old. You need it when you’re young, your life ahead of you.’
    â€˜Oh, thanks, Nana.’
    â€˜How’s the boyfriend, Lia? Say hello to Jack for me.’
    â€˜He’s just my friend, Nana, you know that.’
    â€˜He’s made for you, my darling. Listen to your nana. A lovely young man like that doesn’t come along every day.’
    There was no point arguing with her. My nana’s been gaga about Jack ever since he plunged into an early puberty and emerged at fourteen, six foot tall, muscled, blond, blue-eyed and with completely flawless skin.
    â€˜If only I were sixty years younger,’ Nana would sigh, loud enough for him to hear. She was possibly the world’s oldest wannabe cougar. Jack loved it, and flirted outrageously with her. But then Jack’s such a lad that he’d probably cop off with a seventy-year-old, given half a chance.
    â€˜OK, Nana, love you,’ I said, and handed the phone back to Mum. I took a gulp of cava. The bubbleshit the back of my throat and made me sneeze.
    My mum put the phone down. ‘She’s very happy for you,’ she told me, ‘and she hopes you won’t spend it all before you’ve found yourself a good husband. Her words.’
    And then some more neighbours arrived and Dad opened another bottle and we started googling how much things cost. . . Houses (Mum) . . . cars (Dad) . . . holidays (everyone) . . . clothes, shoes, jewellery, electrical equipment, singing lessons. . .
    â€˜Eight million’s not really enough in London,’ said Dad, after we’d looked at a few ads for mansions backing onto Hampstead Heath. ‘Why couldn’t you win twenty million? Or forty, just to be safe.’
    â€˜Oh my God, Graham, how greedy are you?’ I said. ‘Anyway, it’s my money, actually, not yours. I’ll be choosing the properties, thank you very much.’
    Mum and Dad glanced at each other. ‘Same old Lia,’ murmured Mum.
    I shot her a filthy look. I might have won eight million pounds, but I hadn’t forgotten that she’d thrown me out. At least I