Just My Luck

JUST MY LUCK

Ever since Nan died my girlfriend and I visited my Granddad every Wednesday evening and took him down the local pub. This was mainly to get him out of the house and have some social contact to help keep his spirits up. He had lived in the village all his life and was quite a character, everyone would say hello when we walked into the pub. The village pub was a thatched white washed timber framed building called The Royal Oak. It had an L shaped floor plan with the toilets and pub games section in the small straight section and the bar and main seating area in the other longer straight section. The wooden furniture was stained a dark brown and there were some church pew type seats strategically placed in the nooks and crannies to make the most of the space. There were  three bar stools along a short and cramped bar that had the usual set of brass taps, a couple of other pumps and one of those soft drink dispensing hose, the sort that spouted mixed syrups and carbonated water when you pressed the button, like a soda stream. On every chair was a cushion covered in red velvet material that you could write rude messages on if you used your finger to brush against the direction the fabric was going in.

There used to be two pubs in the village but the other one, The Crown had closed down many years ago. Replaced by a small cul de sac which was packed tight with like for like houses. People were generally no longer visiting pubs and a lot of similar pub closures were happening all over the country. Where once the village had two pubs,  a bakers, convenience shop and a post office this Royal Oak was all that remained. No longer would you bump into your fellow villagers and lose time over a chat about so and so from number 27, or how little Timmy was doing now he had started big school. Everyone knew everyone back then and if you cut your knee on the roundabout or got stuck climbing the biggest tree someone would see you and come out to help . Although you would still feel a proper Charlie.

The evening was never boring, someone would always be there with a great story to tell from way back when or from the day itself. More often than not, my Granddads friend Don would be there and they would reminisce about the days when they used to poach rabbits and other game from the local woods. It always used to make me think about Danny Champion of the World and I would imagine that my Grandad was the father figure in that story and that I needed to rescue him with some raisins laced with sleeping pills. Although he wasn't my Dad and my Dad was still alive, I had lived with Nan and Grandad since my parents divorced when I was two years old. I loved living with them. Even though they were much older than your usual parents their house and garden were fabulous to grow up in. Granddads study had a range of watch mending tools and equipment and the garage was also filled with wood and metal turning lathes that had a plethora of dials and levers and compartments. The garden was filled with sweet peas, chrysanthemums, runner beans, strawberry plants, cabbages, potatoes, cauliflower, carrots and gooseberry bushes. All of which made great landscapes for my Action Man, Fisher Price and Lego figures. I spent hours and hours making up stories using the garage, study and garden as battle fields, space exploration and jungle backdrops.

This particular Wednesday seemed no different to any other. My girlfriend and I had driven the 20 miles or so from Cambridge to the village where my Granddad lived and had picked him up. We performed the customary "Are we going down the pub then?" conversation and then off we went to the pub.

It was only a short journey and as it was summer time this particular evening we walked through the village. Granddad was fairly old but still mobile enough to manage the trip. Sometimes on the way home Granddad would be a bit wobbly and I would have to prop him up a little bit but never once did we fall over.

The night was early and it was no surprise to see that the pub was nearly empty when we arrived. Peter the bar man was watching the small portable TV that had been fixed to the single pillar that was supporting the ceiling of the main seating area.

"Hello Trouble." Pete said said toward us all but the insinuation was to my Granddad. "You don't mind if I watch the Lottery draw do you?" he continued.

"No." we all chorused at the question or some kind of accepting response and then sat down at a table that also had a view of the screen.

Now the lottery had been running for some while but the Wednesday draw had not been going that long and the prize whilst sizeable was no where near as big as the Saturday one. Still organisers knew what they were doing and if you had a set of numbers chosen for the Saturday draw you were then inclined to buy a ticket for the Wednesday one, increasing the overall amount you would be gambling for the week by double. Personally I had never bought a ticket. I thought it was extremely unlikely that you would win as the odds were astronomical. Being the clever little arsehole I was I would always say that you would be better off putting aside the money you would spend on the lottery each week and eventually you would have a lottery win amount. Needless to say my interest in the draw was low but everyone else, including my girlfriend, were sat glued to the screen as the identikit presenter reeled off the usual spiel as they dragged out the suspense before the lottery machine started up and the balls tumble into the transparent spinning drum. Like multicoloured socks balled up and twirling around inside your washing machine. Waiting to see if when the machine stops you are a winner and every sock has its significant other to make a pair.

I do not remember which order the numbered balls came out but know that they were 2, 10, 16, 17, 20 and 27. There was also a bonus ball drawn as there were prizes for lower combination of numbers matched plus the bonus ball that paid out lesser values. All the way down to 3 numbers which paid out a tenner. Remembering numbers is not hard, before the invention of the mobile phone you would be able to recall a handful of telephone numbers without any problem and they are not that much different to a set of lottery numbers. I remember the numbers but I doubt Peter the bar man remembers what they are and although my girlfriend was there we split up some while after and the event is now a distant memory for her. My Granddad knew what they were.

"They are my numbers." he said.

"Yeah, right." I responded thinking that he pulling my leg.

"It is my birthday and your Nans birthday."he replied.

I looked at the screen again and tried to work it out. Nan was born in February and Granddad was born in October, Granddad was born on the 16th and Nan was born on the 27th. I did not know what year they were born in but 1917 and 1920 would be about right.

"Wow, that's great." I said once I realised what my Granddad was saying. But then Granddad turned to look at me and the whole world seemed to stop and we were paused in a single moment like a special effect in a movie.

"I don't play on Wednesdays." Granddad said.

I didn't know what to say and I cannot remember if I said anything. The presenter continued on the screen saying that there were two winners who would share 3 point something million and my brain worked out that a third share would have meant winning of 1.2ish million pounds. My girlfriend had returned from the bar with our drinks and I explained to her what had happened. Meanwhile Granddad had become withdrawn, looking into glass, head bowed a picture of sadness.

"Look Granddad." I started. "It doesn't matter." I continued, although deep down I knew that it did. 

"I could have helped you all." he replied.

"I would much rather have you than any amount of money." I held his hand which was resting on the table, it felt lifeless.

He didn't say much else for the rest of the evening, which was not like him. At the end of the evening we took him home. Soon after this his friend Don moved out of the village to be closer to his daughter who lived up North. Granddad used that as an excuse to stop going to the pub and suddenly started buying cans of beer to have in the house so that when we came round he could pour a drink rather than go out for one. It is always easier looking back to see these signs but at the time we didn't notice. There was the weight loss, we just thought it was funny when Granddad started to whistle when he spoke. When he fell asleep in the chair and his dentures slipped down he looked a bit like a rat with long front teeth. I was away on holiday when he died, a holiday I did not want to go on because I knew he was ill. I will always regret not being there to see him before he passed away. I would exchange all the money in world now just to be able to see him one more time and tell him how much I miss him.

I never did like the lottery and still don't but today I bought a scratch card.

Neither of us won.