The Lottery Ticket Read Free Page B

a nail he had driven over on entering the premises.
    Sandra would have left him a long time ago had she not had the children. Her mother had always said he was a bad’un. Even before he went into prison he was lazy and if he did do any work it was very part-time and he wouldn’t hand over his earnings to help Sandra keep the family.
           “Why don’t you leave him”? Would be the pointed question her mother would constantly ask.
           “Because he’s my husband”, she would reply. “I married him for better or worse”, she would quote without much belief.
          “Yes, but when there is no ‘better’ what is the point of carrying on with nothing but the worse”, her mother remonstrated.
         “I know what your saying, mum, but I have to carry on for the sake of the kids”, she would excuse as the tears would begin to flow freely.
    Sandra was unhappy with her lot but her daughters kept her going. They would help her around the house which she always kept clean. If they thought she needed some quite time after one of the many rows they would go and visit their few friends.
    Their home was a pre-war council house on an estate of identical houses. The garden was always in need of attention and this because Roger would do nothing to help keep it tidy. Sandra and the girls would do what they could so as not to cause the council to threaten eviction. If Roger was at home it would invariably mean that he was in bed sleeping or sitting in an armchair watching anything that was on television.
    The house had three bedrooms. One was the master bedroom which was shared in shifts between Sandra at night and Roger throughout the day. The furniture was mostly purchased from charity shops or boot sales and was nearly as old as the house. The second bedroom was shared by the girls with bunk beds given by the Salvation Army whilst Roger was in jail. Apart from the rented television this was the most modern piece of furniture in the house.
    The third and smallest bedroom had a sewing machine in it with an old kitchen style table. This was where Sandra would do the alterations on garments from other people. This helped to subsidise the wages from her main employment.
    She managed to give the children a small amount of pocket money now and then but neither of the children asked or expected any. They knew how difficult it was for their mother to eek out an existence each week without her telling them.
    The front room was like the rest of the house, sparsely furnished. The sofa was older than the armchair that was mostly occupied by Roger. Sandra had covered them both with throws she had made from old material that didn’t match but at least covered the cigarette burns that Roger had made when falling to sleep with a lighted cigarette in his hand.
    The rest of the furniture in the room consisted of a glass top coffee table dating back to the sixties and of course the modern television which was rented. The dining room was furnished with an almost antique table that had seen better days and four chairs that were really kitchen chairs.
    The kitchen had a number of units and plenty of worktop space. Unfortunately the units were sparingly filled as shopping was done on a need to do basis. Most of the time, the girls would sit in the kitchen on the two rickety stools to do their homework, whilst their mother would cook the meals. This gave them the opportunity to talk about their day.
          “I forgot to mention I had seen my friend Mandy in town last Saturday Mum” Julie mentioned.
    As if by magic Roger appeared in the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. Although he had been in the front room since getting out of bed he had only made it that far and sat watching the cricket on the television since the early afternoon.
    No one seemed to take much notice as he slouched around the kitchen with his pyjama bottoms on and a vest, looking for the things he would need to fulfil his need.
    Julie continued her