by Alan Townendmyself. Now, I should have the maturity to know precisely what to
do. It was high time I had a piece of luck. With these philosophical
thoughts turning round in my mind I picked up my daily newspaper.
They too ran a sort of lottery and if you had a scratch card with two
sums of money the same as the one in the paper, then you won that
amount. «Saints preserve us!», I yelled at the top of my voice,
although I was alone at the time. Yes, you've guessed it. I had won
£250,00. I went cold and found myself quoting Shakespeare: «If this
be error and upon me proved ...» I forgot the rest of the line. I was
too excited.
Naturally I phoned everyone up and told them the news and I
received plenty of advice. Someone suggested a financial plan should
be drawn up to assess the different possible investments. Another
proposed that I went straight to the bank for advice. A third insisted
I did nothing until he had had time to consider what to do. I was
seriously beginning to wonder who had won the money. The best
advice came from the person who recommended that I should go out
and enjoy myself. The trouble was that everyone reacted as if they
knew everything about money and I hadn't the least idea. It seemed
to me that I was being treated as if I were a complete fool.
Meanwhile I had to be sensible and take some practical steps in
order to get hold of the money. It was time I stopped daydreaming
and read the rules on the back of my scratch card. Either they would
send you the cheque for the amount after you had sent them the
appropriate card or you could actually go round to their main office
and do the paperwork there. I thought I would sooner go round to
the office. I felt I would rather get the matter sorted out at the
headquarters. The first thing you were instructed to do was to ring a
certain telephone number. I tried and the number was engaged.
Throughout the rest of that Wednesday I tried phoning again and
again and the number was either engaged or nobody answered. It
was as if they knew about me and didn't want to part with the
money. I just wished they had picked up the phone. I knew that the
office closed at 5.30 and so I made one last desperate phone call at
5.15. A young woman answered who sounded as though she knew
what she was talking about. I tried hard to sound as if I were in
charge of the situation and as if winning £250,000 was the sort of
thing that happened every day. My throat was very dry and she
asked me to repeat what I had just said. I explained that the
amounts on the Wednesday's scratch card were the same as that
day's paper and I claimed that sum. There was a long pause and
then as politely as she could she suggested I looked at the day on
today's paper. «Heaven help me», I cried, «it's Thursday.»