CHANGE

”Spare some change.

  Spare some change” 

The words that started as murmurs would increase in volume as the passerby’s neared.

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Once upon a time, Suzan had a home.

That was history. 

She was born in England in the county of Surrey.  Being from an affluent family she had a warm bed, a roof over her head and a caring family. However, her misdoings spoilt it all. As a teenager life was honky dory. Mixing with the wrong group of friends she got introduced to drugs. Now drawn deep into her addiction she refused to be helped by her loved ones to kick out the habit. 

One fine day she just left home and came to London. She had moved in with a boyfriend. Attempts by her family to contact her were snuffed off. 

This was now her world. She was independent. She was free. 

Good Times came to an end in a few months as she broke up with her lover and ended up on the street. 

She was given a place in a hostel, but she became homeless again after the council raised the rates and she fell behind on her rent. Without a steady income, she could not afford the rent. 

Her life had changed.

She was now homeless on the cold streets of London. 

She was now one among 300,000 homeless people across Britain 

She managed to scrape through but as days went by she could see that the situation was getting more difficult.

She was begging on the streets for spare change. 

She noticed that more and more people were apologising for not having change.

She was getting short-tempered and frustrated.

With the advent and widespread use of credit cards and internet transactions, hard cash was hardly used. 

Times had changed. 

People did not carry currency. 

Spare change was a habit of the past.

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Sixty-five-year-old hunchbacked Elizabeth had played her line at £2. 

She had never played the lottery before. 

This was a change from her normal routine.

It was the night of the National Lottery jackpot rollover. 

It was a 50.4 million pound jackpot rollover.

Regularly frequenting the Bingo halls to pass the time she was a Bingo player.

Since the death of her husband a few years back, life had been drab.

Living all alone in a small flat left behind by her husband, life moved on. 

Regular income from pension funds took care of her basic needs.

Boredom slowly crept in. 

To enliven her days she started visiting the bingo halls and managed to find solace in this activity.

Gas and electricity bills were another reason she went out to the bingo halls and stayed less at home. The more she stayed out the less she spent on heating and lighting. Winter bills could be killers.

It was getting expensive to even turn on the television that she normally put on occasionally to pep her up.  Bills were getting expensive

She had budgeted her daily spend for the bingo tickets and though she occasionally won small amounts she never let it get her splashing out on the tickets. She was a controlled player.

She had just heard of the rollover lottery jackpot from one of her friends at the Bingo hall.

It was in the days leading up to the biggest ever National Lottery jackpot, as thousands hedged their bets on six balls that could make one lucky person £50.4 million richer.

Wanting a change from Bingo she had decided to buy a National Lottery ticket. 

Shuffling along the cold dark dreary street she entered the local newsagents cum convenience store. Usually placed at the corner of the street they were aptly nicknamed ‘corner shops’ to reflect their locations.

At the newsagents counter, she took help in filling out the ticket. She had to select a choice of six different numbers between 1 and 59.

The middle-aged Asian gentleman at the counter advised her. ”If you do not wish to choose there is a provision known as 'Lucky Dip’ for random numbers to be generated automatically.’

“No No,  I will personally select the numbers,” she rebutted.  This was not rocket science. It was all about using one’s lucky number.

She carefully started her selection and stuttered out six numbers — 8, 30, 40, 50, 54, 57.

The numbers were punched in by the gentleman onto the special lottery ticket generating machine and the printed out pink slip with her numbers was passed onto her .  

The entry fee to the Lotto draw was set at £2 per play.

She rummaged in her cloth purse and handed out to him two one-pound coins. That was the only change in her purse. It was now empty. 

She neatly folded the crisp piece of paper given to her and placed the lottery ticket in it.

Hobbling out into the street she walked a few yards when the words reached her ears.

‘Spare some change. I am homeless, Spare some change.’

Elizabeth saw this teenaged girl sitting on the steps of a shuttered shopfront on a rolled out sleeping bag. She had all her belongings in packages and bags around her.  

Something melted in her heart as she heard this plea for change. She felt pity.

Bending her already hunched back she tried to console the girl. 

She wanted to give her some change. It would help her get some food.

Pulling out her purse she opened it forgetting that she had brought a lottery ticket with the money that she had.

She felt sad when she realised that she did not have change. She had splashed it on the lottery ticket.

Something clicked in her mind and she pulled out the lottery ticket from her purse and handed it over to the scruffy-looking girl. ‘I do not have change. The only thing that I have is this lottery ticket. Keep it and if you are lucky it may help you.’

She pushed the pink paper into the girl's hand.

Saying this she turned her back and started walking. 

Suzan was in a fit. How dare this mad lady make fun of her and push a lottery ticket into her hand instead of giving her change.  

Barking out expletives she shouted out to the hunchback, ‘Fu***** old bi**** This is not change. This is fu•••• paper. 

Do you expect me to eat this paper of yours?’

Saying this she hurled the crumpled ticket at the elderly lady.

It hit Elizabeth on the back of her head and rolling down her white hair landed on the street.

Elizabeth was unperturbed. Looking up-to-the skies she said a silent prayer. 

‘Lord forgive her for she knows not what she is doing.’

Bending down she picked up the crumpled pink ball of paper and put it back in her small purse.

Moving away from a ranting Suzan, the old lady reached home. 

 

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Later that evening Elizabeth was having hot steaming soup and enjoying some soothing music on her Classic FM radio.

Mozart’s Piano Concerto No 24 in C minor was being played. She had completely lost track of time and the fact that the results of the lottery draw were being telecast live on TV.

As Mozart was reaching the end of his piece something clicked inside her head.

She jumped up from her chair and switched on the TV

She had missed the initial bit of the show on BBC’s National Lottery Results programme. The draw for the ticket she had brought was just being staged out 

She was just in time.

She settled down on her chair. Sitting back on terra firma she pulled out her purse, opened it and withdrew the ball of the crumpled pink slip.

Straightening out the creased slip of paper she held it with both hands in front of her eyes as the drama unfolded on the television.

Amidst the heightening music, the lottery machine appeared up on the screen. 

The drum with spinning paddles was rotating in opposite directions. The rubber balls dropped into the spinning chamber from a set of transparent tubes above the machine. The paddles mixed the balls and then the one at a time six balls passed out of the bottom of the drum. This was followed by another ball for the bonus number. They travelled through a transparent tube and into a visible tray so that viewers could see the balls at all times.

The presenter was excitedly screaming out the numbers as the balls came out of the tube.

Fifty-four, thirty, fifty, fifty-seven, eight, forty and the bonus ball is thirteen.

At bottom of the screen, a footer panel rearranged these numbers in ascending order as the presenter repeated them.

8, 30, 40, 50, 54, 57 and the bonus ball is 13

Elizabeth let out a cry of joy and a prayer to the Lord.

The numbers on the screen tallied with the numbers on the creased ticket in her hand. 

She had matched all six numbers.

She had hit the roll-over jackpot.

She would try and change many peoples lives. 

After all her life had changed forever.