Page 13 of The Lucky Winners

Saturday

Merri

Our favourite cocktail bar is small and kitsch. Fairy lights tangle around the ceiling beams, glowing in soft pinks and oranges, making the whole place feel warm and intimate.

A vintage jukebox sits against the far wall, its neon sign glowing, though I’ve never seen anyone use it. The bar is cluttered with novelty cocktail shakers and oversized glassware, and there’s a faint smell of citrus and sugar syrup in the air.

I exhale, relieved to be here, away from the boxes, the paperwork, the endless logistics of uprooting my entire life.

This place has been ours – mine and Paige’s – for the last couple of years, a halfway point between work and home, where Paige and I can offload our frustrations over two-for-one mojitos and bowls of salted peanuts.

Tonight I want to sink into that familiar rhythm, hear about what she’s been up to since it all became about DreamKey. Forget about the conflicting emotions that have been fighting inside me since the moment we won the house.

Paige is already at the bar, perched on a velvet padded stool and scrolling through her phone. She slides off and puts out her arms when she sees me. ‘About time … Congratulations!’

We hug. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late. I think I’m going to have to wrestle my suitcase shut. I swear all the stuff we have to take is reproducing.’

She laughs. ‘Let’s get some drinks and then you can tell me all about it.’

‘My round,’ I say, nodding to the bartender and ordering our customary two mojitos to start.

When the drinks arrive, Paige has claimed our usual corner table – a little booth half hidden behind a curtain of trailing ivy.

It’s snug, private, and I love it in here.

I love this , our time together. ‘Right,’ I say, settling in.

‘Enough about me for a while. Tell me what’s been going on in your life. ’

I expect her to launch into a rant about work, about the latest patient to drive her up the wall. Instead she leans forward, eyes bright. ‘Honestly? Things are quite exciting right now.’

It’s only a few days since I saw her at work and everything in her life was rubbish, she’d said. ‘Tell me more!’

She barely gives me time to react before she dives in.

She’s started a new Pilates class – ‘It’s brutal , Merri.

My abs have been on fire for two days, but in a good way, you know?

’ – and she’s finally spoken to her tutor at nursing college about her dreaded assignment extension.

‘He was so understanding, thank God. He’s given me an extra two weeks, which means I might actually get a decent pass instead of just scraping by. ’

She takes a sip of her drink, eyes dancing.

‘And – big one – I had a chat with someone at work about the shared-ownership flats near the hospital. If I play my cards right, next year I could actually have my own place. My name on the paperwork, no more sneaking around the house trying not to wake my parents up like I’m fifteen again. ’

I smile, but there’s a twist in my chest. I’m so happy for her, but I can’t ignore the sinking feeling that this – these nights out, this easy sharing of our lives – will be over soon.

‘I’m going to miss you,’ I say, my voice softer than I’d meant it to be.

Paige’s expression falters for half a second before she recovers.

She reaches for my hand, squeezing it. ‘I’ll miss you too, idiot.

But you’re only a slightly complicated train ride away.

And, anyway, we’ve got social media for when I need to send you regular lengthy complaints and pictures of my cat. ’

I laugh. ‘You never needed an excuse for that.’

She pulls back, giving me a mock-serious look. ‘Anyway, enough about me and my boring existence. What’s happening in the lives of Nottingham’s newest millionaires?’

Heat rushes to my face. ‘Don’t say that. It’s weird. I don’t feel like a millionaire. That’s part of the problem, really.’

She raises an eyebrow. ‘How so?’

I take a sip of my drink, trying to find the words. ‘It still doesn’t feel real. And I know how lucky we are, but I can’t shake this weird guilt about it. Like, how it’s just landed in our laps.’

Paige nods slowly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. ‘Yeah. That must feel strange. Having your lives transform overnight, without, you know, having to do anything to earn it.’

The words land like a slap, though I know she doesn’t mean them to because she’d been so happy for us on the phone. My stomach clenches and, for a second, I don’t know how to respond.

Paige’s eyes widen. ‘Oh, Merri, sorry – I didn’t mean that how it sounded.’ She leans forward. ‘What’s happened to you is truly amazing. You know I’m really pleased for you?’

‘I know,’ I say quickly. And I do know.

But something inside me feels weak and sort of insubstantial. I get a horrible feeling that, underneath the apparent goodwill, she’s judging me harshly.

I find myself downplaying the house win, turning the conversation back to Paige.

I hear myself telling her what a brilliant nurse she’ll make, how I always knew she’d get there.

I’m leaning too hard into how much she deserves this, how she’s working really hard and earning it.

Paige hasn’t said anything bad, not really, but I feel I need to overcompensate.

Smooth over something unspoken that’s needling between us.

By the time we leave the bar, it’s late, the streetlights casting long golden streaks across the pavement. There’s a bit of a chill in the air tonight after a warm day, and I tuck my hands into my jacket pockets.

Paige bumps her shoulder against mine. ‘I’m gonna miss this.’

I swallow the lump in my throat. ‘Me too.’

Her brown eyes shine, and she pulls me into a hug, tight and fierce. ‘You’d better not forget me once you’re off living your posh mansion life with new fancy friends.’

I force a laugh, hugging her back. ‘As if.’

She lets go, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. ‘Ugh, I hate getting emotional.’

I shake my head. ‘It suits you.’

She rolls her eyes but grins. ‘Shut up.’

We stand there for a moment, the city traffic humming quietly around us.

She is happy for me. She must be.

I’m just being me and worrying as usual. Imagining there’s something else beneath it.