It has been a while since I did a writing challenge. There’s not much time until this one closes, so it’s been dashed off a…
Trifecta: Week Sixty-Eight. 33 to 333 words on “Time”
Today’s Daily Prompt has me somewhat stumped. We may have to state some assumptions.
You wake up tomorrow morning to find all your plans have been cancelled for the next seven days and $10,000 on your dresser. Tell us about your week.
- The money left is in usable currency – i.e. GBP, otherwise I’d have to spend most of the week in an attempt to exchange or bank the dollars – not an easy task for an island-dweller
- At today’s Exchange Rate, according to Google, $10,000 = £6,637.90
- Cancelled Plans = Normal routine events not happening. Not that I have many of those.
- Cash is available for 7 days only.
Friday, 8th March, 2013
Woke up this morning to find a stash of cash on the dressing table. I have no idea where it came from. Checked my email but found no notes from anybody on this matter. Did find email from Gill, to say that both Spinning Group and the School Knitting Group are cancelled for the next week… something to do with a broken heating system at the school.
How did it get there? I was mystified. Slowly the bad thoughts crept into my head.. how much money is in a pile of notes that high? OK. I counted it. Wouldn’t you? It was an odd amount. I counted it twice. Over £6,000… £6,637 in notes, and loose change amounting to 90p. Why?
I stashed the cash in the butter dish (the notes fit quite nicely) and put it on my desk. I can see it as I write this, the notes clearly visible through the Pyrex glass. I want to count it again. I really can’t believe what has happened. It is weird.
Spent the remainder of the day wondering whether to contact the Police – but what about, exactly. The money cannot be lost, it can only have been put there purposefully. So, we had a break-in? Do I get a copper out here from Mainland for me to complain that somebody broke in and left me over six, thousand quid? I might get sectioned.
But what do I do if I don’t call the Northern Constabulary?
Saturday, 9th March, 2013
Spent a very restless night last night. Got to thinking about the money and who it belongs to. Wondered if it had been left deliberately for me. I mean… has somebody given it to me, mine for the use of? Well, that started me off, playing “what if?” games!
I was at it for hours, getting all excited about the things I might do with 6K.
But it’s not mine, is it? It can’t be. I have never seen that much money in my life. Ever.
I’ll give it another day and see if anybody says anything about it.
Sunday, 10th March, 2013.
Mother’s Day today. Nothing for me, of course. D and V never bother and the thought of S doing something nice for Mothering Sunday is, well… not quite believable. He’d just scoff if I suggested going out for dinner. He sends his mum a card, that’s all.
There was nothing in my mailbox, and no phone messages. Perhaps I should give the Police a call after all.
Oh. *scream* Whatever should I do?
I am going to get my spinning wheel out and see if spinning for an hour or two will soothe my agitation.
Monday, 11th Match, 2013
Took a tenner from the butter dish last night and went down to Jean’s to buy a bottle of wine. I just could not settle to my spinning. My thoughts were too full of that damn money . Came home, put the change in the butter dish, then got pleasantly relaxed. After my third glass began to wonder what, if the money were mine, I might spend it on…
Spent 3 hours on Amazon, comparing digital camera specifications.
Mum’s birthday today. I wonder if she is still with us? She’ll be 86.
Tuesday, 12th March
Awake all night, alternately castigating self for avaricious thoughts and doing “let’s pretend” shopping, before settling on the notion of giving the cash to good cause if I cannot find its owner.
Spinning Group cancelled today, but I baked anyway. I needed the consolation of a good chocolate cake. Made Nigella’s storecupboard cake, using a jar of sour cherry jam. Delicious, but I ate far too much. Probably should not have had that tub of ice cream with it, either. Spun for two hours – got to thinking about that woolee winder that I want. Wonder if I might borrow £250 from the mystery stash.
Wednesday, 13th March
Rang Northern Constabulary this morning. I think the man that answered tried to stifle a laugh. The only advice he gave me was to bank the cash for safety – said there was nothing he could do unless I wanted to report a burglary but that burglars do not normally leave presents behind. Hung up, and then called and booked the bus for the ferry on Friday.
Not sure what to do now. My (Nationwide) branch is in Leeds, HO is in Ipswich and there is no branch closer than Inverness. I normally post cheques to Swindon, never had to pay cash in since we came here. Probably could have done a cash transfer yesterday when RBS came to the island… if had only thought on it.
I think I’ll open a new account with the RBS… keep this money separate from my own, just in case it has to go back… somewhere.
Thursday, 14th March, 2013
Beginning to think of the money as being mine to spend now. Quite ashamed of self but have had fun time deciding what to do with it.
Have settled on woolee winder and FinePix S4500 Camera (It’s RED!) and the rest to Red Nose Day – which is this Friday. Watched Richard Curtis‘ film Mary and Martha the other day on the BBC iPlayer; was very moved. Found myself wishing that I could do something to help beat that bastard disease, Malaria. Now I can. I find tears in my eyes at the very notion.
So, yes, if nobody has claimed the money by tomorrow, I am opening a bank account, doing some modest shopping on the old Interweb and donating the balance to Red Nose.
It feels like a good conclusion.
Dearest Diary, I am feeling very happy.
Friday 15th March, 2013.
Woke to alarm getting me out of bed in time for the bus. Grabbed coffee, rushed round getting ferry knitting, Kindle and ferry tickets together. Went to put cash in an envelope for safe-keeping en route and… the butterdish was empty.
I was stunned. Really had the wind removed from my sails. Literally took the legs from under me and I plumped into my chair. I swear that I literally gasped. All gone – the same way as it came. Have I been dreaming? Whose kind of a joke is this – to creep into my home and leave all that money and then come back and take it away again?
Will I never have a woolee winder. Thought it was too good to be true, I don’t get that lucky.
Went to town anyway. Called in at Police Station to report burglary. They took notes. I have the feeling that they tore them up again after I left. Funniest thing, though – they gave me a crime number – 6637/90. How oddly coincidental is that?