Just The Ticket

She shrugged the worn coat further up her shoulders to cover her neck. The frayed ends of the collar tickled her leathery face, and she wrinkled her nose up to prevent a sneeze. Digging deep into her pockets she revealed a fur covered toffee, which she promptly popped into her mouth. Mary Williams had lived on the streets for years she decided, one day, to quite simply abandon all forms of normal life and live in the wider world. She had left behind a handsome husband, a beautiful young daughter and a lovely suburban semi. These things seemed irrelevant to her at the time of her breakdown. She wasn’t very old, yet at fifty-five the street living had battered and weathered her beyond her years. Her once long blonde hair was greying, dirty and matted. The designer clothes had lost their panache, and hung limply from her slight frame; the Van Daal shoes slopped like boats around her tiny feet. Mary had at least one thing going for her; she had retained her health and spark for life. Begging on the streets may have dulled her senses somewhat, but she retained her dignity, as much as begging would allow her to.

Every day Mary would sit yards from an elite block of offices; huddled and hunched she placed her card ‘10p for a cup of tea’ in front of her and it was from here that her day always began. People hurried by to get to their place of work, some would stop and throw in as much as a pound, and Mary would always nod and thank them. The world passed her by and just as many people passed her by. There was one in particular, a tall, elegant female executive, suited-and-booted and snooty, who worked in the elite offices merely yards from where Mary sat. Whilst other people would tend to ignore Mary, this woman took it upon herself, each day, to throw derisory looks towards her. The cold steely blue eyes stung into Mary’s heart every time.

It was a Monday, the start of the week, a week much like any other for the likes of Mary. Once again she placed her little card in front of her; she neatly arranged her bags that contained her life and world and settled down for the day. Two young office girls approached, stopped and threw in fifty pence each.

‘Thank you my dears,’ Mary said smiling, showing her still perfect teeth.

‘You’re welcome, have a cuppa on us,’ one of the bright young things said, and off they tottered.

Walkers busied themselves with their lives; some stopped, but many just chose to turn their heads away, probably in shame, as opposed to disgust. Miss Snooty started to approach and Mary’s heart pounded.

Please don’t shoot those looks at me again, please don’t.

The woman dug her hands deep into designer pockets and strode forcefully along the pavement. As she passed Mary she turned her head in the opposite direction. She gave no looks today, no response, no glares, merely walked briskly with her head held high in the air. Her hand withdrew from her pocket and a piece of paper floated down, landing just in front of Mary’s feet. Miss Snooty never flinched, just carried on walking.

Mary leant forward and picked up the piece of paper and gently unfolded it. It was a lottery ticket for Saturday, today was Monday. She stuffed it into her pocket, got up, and walked towards the local newsagents. Outside they always displayed the winning numbers and jackpot for the previous lottery drawer. Mary prised the ticket from a toffee and compared the numbers.

She steadied herself on her feet as she could clearly see that she, Mary Williams, had just won £7,000,000.

Mary hugged the Prada coat closer to her chest and swept away a wisp of newly-highlighted hair from her face. She looked up and down the road and gently tapped her toe in her Gucci shoes. In the distance a suited figure came walking and she gradually approached where Mary was standing.

Mary cleared her throat.

‘Excuse me miss, I would like you to have this.’ Mary offered an envelope to Miss Snooty.

The woman gently opened the envelope to reveal a cheque, for £1,000,000. She looked at Mary and smiled.

‘I don’t know why you have given me this,’ and the woman passed the cheque back to Mary and slowly walked away. She looked to the sky, feeling the warmth on her face, turned back to look at Mary and spoke quietly to herself, ‘Have a lovely life mom.’

Mary looked on at the woman as she disappeared into the distance, and dug deep into her Prada coat to reveal another fur-coated toffee.

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All content on this site is subject to copyright © 2000/2006
If you wish to use anything either text or graphics please ask permission