I stood alone at the edge of the old toilet at the back of the house that bore witness to over 150 years of use. I craved the separation, needing my own space as I eavesdropped, rather than actively listened, to the radio commentary on the second race from Cheltenham.

My phone rang in my pocket, and I let it ring out, Sizing Europe was in front and safely over the last fence. He was running away from the rest, and it was a foregone conclusion. He cantered home at 6/1, but I had him at tens. My stomach rumbled.

The Yankee bet was confusing to the uninitiated. It's eleven bets tied up in a nice little package, designed to fleece the idiots who take them. The bet consisted of six doubles, 4 trebles and an accumulator. When Sizing Europe crossed the line in front it meant that I was a winner: I had one of the doubles in my pocket. A quick calculation based on the odds worked out at €160 for Menora carried on to Sizing Europe at 10/1 giving me a carry-through of €1,600. I'd also get the tenner back for each bet, so I was ahead of my €110 investment after two races.

That €1,600 then carried forward to the next horse, Chief Dan George, which I had at 50/1. I tried to do a quick calculation, but I got lost somewhere around the €10k mark. It was bad luck to count unearned money, so I dismissed it from my head and focused on the €1,620 that I had in my pocket instead. Dan was heading off at 2:40 and we were five minutes away from that. On the radio, I heard that his Starting Price was 33/1. I had him at fifties. It was a complete punt.

I was such an idiot that day, but the bigger mistake was listening to Browner in the first place. Yankee bets were a fun way to while away a Saturday afternoon. I'd often done a 10p Yankee and picked two favourites, one joint-favourite and a short-priced outsider, which would be the prudent bet to make. I won a couple of times, and the returns were very good, generally. On this occasion, however, I didn't have one favourite in the bet. I went purely on gut instinct with a sprinkling of the little knowledge of racing that I possessed.

Cheltenham was known as the Irish festival because it took place during St. Patrick's Week and we all gleefully threw our money away at the bookies, watched our selections lose or win in the nearest pub and generally screamed the place down if our horse was in the frame at the end of the race.

On this occasion, however, I had placed eleven bets at €10 per bet. It wasn't outrageous and it was Cheltenham after all, but I was €1,620 up less the remaining stake of €90. I'd have to work a couple of weeks to clear that kind of money after tax.

I was on the phone to my girlfriend at the time, Linda Barnes, when Denis came over and looked at me. I winked at him, and he made a wind-it-up motion with his finger. I excused myself and hung up.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Fucking, Chief Dan George came in. I'm bleedin' shaking, Tom," he said.

I stood up straight and breathed in deeply, the depth of the occasion beginning to bite into me. We looked at each other, a feeling of disbelief holding us suspended in its grasp. He gripped my shoulder and shook me.

"How much are you winning, Tom?" he said in whispered excitement.

"I have no fucking idea, D," I said. "Ten grand?"

"It's more than that," he said.

"Well, I can't do that kind of mental arithmetic," I said.

"Then do it on a piece of paper."

"Fuck off," I said. "Let's see how A New Story does first."

I needn't have worried. A New Story's race wasn't off until 4:00 and Browner had decided that he needed to come over and tell me how much I was worth.

"Tommy, you're up €8,890 after that last race," he whispered.

"Fuck off, Scorchy," I said.

"I have to get back to my pint," he said and made to run off.

"Scorchy!" I said as he turned away, "Do NOT talk about this over there."

"I won't, Tommy," he said, "I'd never do that."

"If I hear that you did, you're finished with us," I said, "and I'm serious about that."

He left us and headed back across the road. Denis looked at me and inclined his head.

"Not bad going, Tommy," he said. "Nearly nine grand? Congratulations."

"It's not nine grand, Denis," I said.

"But Scorchy said,"

"I wish Scorchy totted up his invoices in the same way, Denis," I said.

"Why?"

"Because he's a zero short."

Denis sat down on a pile of blocks as John came out of the house to see what was going on.

"Nothing to do John?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I just came out to look for something, Tommy," he said, flustered.

"Well, it's not out here," I said, and he disappeared with his tail between his legs.

"Are you sure about that, Tommy?" Denis asked.

"I have Dan at 50/1, Denis," I said, "just multiplying that by the €1,600 I'd already won is €80K without factoring in the other two doubles. I'm guessing that number is €8,900.”

He sat back and blew out his cheeks.

"Fuck," he said. "What'll you do with that?"

"I'll pay off the overdraft," I said. "We're solvent, D."

"There's one more to go, though," he said. "What'll it be worth then?"

"I'm not greedy, D," I said. "I didn't think it'd get this far."

We were both shaking as he reached out to hug me.

"Couldn't happen to a nicer bloke," he said sincerely.

"Thanks," I said, "but let's hope A New Story isn't Paddy Last in the next race."

He went back inside, and I phoned Linda back.

"Fancy a nice dinner in Bon Appetit tonight?" I said.

"Can we afford it?"

"I just won €1,600 on Cheltenham."

"Fuckin' A," she said, "That's brilliant Tommy."

"I'm feeling lucky, Linda," I said. "I wonder will it hold out 'til midnight."

"You never know," she said. "What do you fancy?"

"You."

"Marion is here tonight," she said.

"There's nobody on the backseat of my car."

"I'll wear my pink dress."

"I'll wear mine too," I said, "I'll pick you up at 7:00, will you book a table for 7:30?"

"I will," she squealed in excitement.

At 3:50 I went inside and sat beside Denis, who was listening to the racing on the radio. A New Story was down to 25/1, but I had him at 33/1. I had fallen into my own trap and done a quick tot on the outcome if we won. It was a minimum of €80K multiplied by 33 which I worked out at €2.97 million. That didn't include the other couple of doubles and trebles. I lit a smoke and walked out to my car. I sat in the passenger seat and took out Grainne's Urn, holding it gently in my hand. What I could do with three million.

I turned the key in the ignition and tuned the radio in to the racing. The race was due off in a couple more minutes. I imagined that the urn began to heat up in my hand. Not a pain inducing heat, merely a comfortable warmth as the race went off.

It was over three miles and seven furlongs, one furlong short of four miles. It was a handicap over fences and my horse had a generous weight allowance.

Halfway through the race he took the lead and held it to the finish, winning comfortably from L'Ami, a 4/1 shot. I kissed Grainne's Urn and placed it back into its resting place. I got out of the car as Danny Brown came flying out the doors of the pub across the road.

"€393,000, Tommy," he said, shaking my hand off my shoulder.

"Are you sure that's right, Scorchy?" I asked.

"No, but it's a close estimate," he said.

I waited until the bookies were nearly empty before wandering over. There were four people in a heated discussion as I walked into the shop. The girl who took my bet recognised me and touched one of the men on the shoulder and he watched me as I walked to the glass partition.

He left through a side door and reappeared beside me through a door from the shop floor into a back office. He introduced himself as the Area Manager and he held a sheet of paper in one hand as he shook my hand with the other one. He was visibly shaken but he smiled, nonetheless, as he escorted me into the office.

We sat down and composed ourselves. I had no idea what was about to happen.

"Tommy, very many congratulations on this win," he said.

"Thanks," I said, "how much is it?"

"Of course," he said, "how would you know? It's €3,930,060 plus the stake."

"Fuck," I said, laughing. "I'll take it in fifties."

We both laughed at that.

"We can only give you €2K in cash, the rest can be paid by bank transfer to your account. If you give me your bank details, I can do it today and it'll hit your account within seven working days," he said, suddenly all serious.

"That works for me," I said.

"I'd better check that this ticket is a legit winner first, though," he said.

I handed it over and he disappeared through the door with it in his hand. He came back a few minutes later and sat down facing me.

"That's all good, Tommy," he said. "Would you be prepared to let us publicise this?"

"No."

"We don't mention the amount of the pay out, if that's your concern."

"Do I get paid for it?"

"Not usually," he said.

"Ok, no, then."

"That's fine, it’s your choice after all," he said, as I gave him my bank details while he went to get my cash.

"I'll email you the full details and the estimated day it hits your account. I see you're with Allied Irish Banks, so that's straightforward enough."

I went back out into the shop, collected my cash and the paper copy of the email he'd just sent me and left the shop. I gave the girls behind the counter half of the cash as a tip, and they were delighted. When I got back to the site, I found Denis waiting for me.

"Well?" he asked.

I showed him the paper and he nearly passed out.

"Pint?" I said.

"Where?"

"Not around here," I said.

"The Rendezvous?"

"I'll meet you there."

We had two pints in The Rendezvous, forgetting how much we hated the place, and left for home at 6:00.

I was still living at home with my parents, technically. When the Credit crunch hit us for six in 2008, I was in funds with plenty of free time on my hands so, with the help of my father, we built an apartment with a kitchen, living room, bathroom, and bedroom at the bottom of their huge rear garden. It only took us a few weeks to build and cost a fraction of what I'd have had to pay for a similar, traditional apartment. I had a separate entrance and could come and go as I pleased. They never bothered me except to enquire occasionally if I wanted food, which was always. I parked outside and was met by my father coming back from buying his evening newspaper.

"Alright, kiddo?" he greeted me. "Did you do anything at Cheltenham?"

"Yes, I did," I said, "Did you?"

"I just did a doubles and two singles," he said. "They're still running."

"What's new?" I said.

"How did you do?"

I motioned with my head for him to follow me. He placed an impish smile on his face and trotted after me into the apartment for the gossip.

"Sit down there," I said to him. "You're not going to believe this."

He sat down and I swore him to secrecy. He agreed and I told him the whole story, finishing with handing him the settlement figure from the bookies. He put his hand on his head and dragged it down over his face.

"Fucking hell, Thomas," he said, the shock apparent on his face. "You'll have to tell your mother."

"Let me get my head around it first," I said. "I'll tell her on the weekend, you know what she's like."

He hugged me.

"I'm fucking delighted for you, son," he said. "This'll set you up for life."

"Yeah, I can sort out my fucking debts now," I said. "You can go out and look at that new car. It's on me."

"That's not necessary," he said.

"Yes, it is," I said, "I owe you more than I could ever repay. This is just a token."

"What are you doing tonight? Are you going out celebrating?"

"No, I'm taking Linda out for dinner," I said.

"Will you tell her about the windfall?"

"No, you're the only one."

"Grand, wise move. Nobody will hear it from me," he said, and he left me alone to get ready for a night out.

I picked Linda up at her flat in Drumcondra at 7:00. I had texted her when I was on my way and she bounced down the four stone steps from the front door to the footpath, opened the car door and slid inside, pulling her dress down over her bum as she settled in. She leaned over and kissed me, her long dark hair brushing softly against my face.

"You smell nice," I said.

"It's not every night a girl gets taken out to a Michelin Star restaurant," she said.

"You look great, too," I said, admiring her from my seat in the car.

She pulled the hem of her dress down and blushed.

"I try my best," she said. "So, tell me about all this money you won today."

"It's only money," I said, "it comes in and it goes out like the continuous lunar cycle of the waves as they ebb and flow in the oceans."

She turned her head away from me and focused her look out through the car window. I knew she was screwing up her face as I spoke. She did stuff like that when I annoyed her with comments that she didn't quite get. I also suspected she was screwing someone from her job, but I had no hard evidence of that. It didn't matter in any case because we wouldn't be together for much longer. I was surprised that she knew about Michelin Stars, though. She was usually a bit of a thicko when it came to that, but she had great tits and killer legs. Maybe the new guy had treated her to a Michelin Star dinner.

I let it go and made nice on the trip to Malahide. We arrived on time at Bon Appetit and were seated in the first-floor dining room. The food and drinks were excellent, and we were no more than two hours there. I settled the bill, and we sat into the car. I leaned over and kissed her, as her arms pulled me in. We hadn't seen each other for about three weeks and there was a hunger in her that was evident in her kisses as they were deep and her lips and tongue highly animated. I placed my hand on the bare skin of her thigh and slowly let it slide under her dress, all the way to her damp thong. She moaned as I slid my finger along her vulva, causing her thong to become wetter. I broke the kiss.

"Let's go somewhere a bit more private," I whispered and started the car.

I drove down the coast to Portmarnock Beach and parked the car in the darkness of the shadows of some sand dunes. She launched herself at me and made my lips a prisoner of hers. She leaned her body over the gearstick, and I let my hand travel under her dress and up to the lace of her thong, pulling it aside and letting my finger stroke the pink flesh of her labia. I found the entrance to her vagina and slipped it inside her as she took a deep breath, and my hand filled with a warm liquid as she placed her head on my shoulder.

"Oh fuck, Tommy! That's so fucking good, I'm coming, don't stop." She moaned as she fucked my finger with her hips. It was rushed and it was quick, and she climaxed noisily on my hand. She rested for a few minutes and kissed me.

"Let's get in the back," I said, softly.

She laid down on her back and I took her in my arms. There was plenty of room for manoeuvre in the rear of the car and I stripped her of her dress, just leaving her in a bra and thong. I slipped the bra open and spent a long time licking and sucking on her nipples as she squirmed under me.

"Oh, that's so good, Tommy, make me come again, please."

I slipped her thong off and brought my lips to her vulva, touching her clit with the tip of my tongue and then sucking it between my lips, causing her to scream in anguish as I held her legs wide apart while I slid my finger inside her vagina and stroked along her labia with my tongue. Her head was on a constant swivel as she reacted to the stimulation of my fingers and tongue.

"Fuck me. Fuck me please." she breathed.

I slipped between her legs and slid my penis inside her.

"Oh, yes, fuck, that's fucking incredible, Gary, I love your cock."

I didn't let on I heard it since I was in dire need of release. I fucked her hard and long, blocking my climax out and enduring four of hers as I ploughed her hard and deep before shooting a huge load inside her as she shook and screamed in another orgasm. She lay back on the seat, her arms and legs akimbo. My semen flowed out of her and pooled on the car seat.

"That was amazing," she said with a satisfied voice, "did you come?"

"Yes, I did."

I lit a smoke and sat on the seat beside her as she stroked my leg. My penis began to reassemble itself and she looked up at me and smiled as she took it in her hand and started to masturbate me. I stopped her and she looked at me with curiosity.

"Blow me, Linda," I said, knowing that she wasn't a fan of it.

I think she sensed something in my voice, and she raised herself up and took me in her mouth. She almost held her breath as she moved her lips along my penis. She wasn't very good at it, but I made the best of it and began fucking her mouth gently. Slowly, over time I felt the rise of my orgasm as I fucked her quicker, causing her to gag a little as her mouth accepted my full length. Just as my climax hit, I pulled her tightly to me and shot it down her throat, causing her to almost puke in distaste and disgust. I made her lick me clean as she watched my reaction with hatred in her eyes. She quickly sat up and pulled her dress on.

"That wasn't very nice, Tommy," she said.

"Oh, sorry, Linda," I said, "You called me Gary, I thought that's what you liked."

"I... What?"

"You called me Gary."

"I did not," she spluttered.

"You fucking did. That's why I fucked your mouth like that."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's the last time I'll ever do anything with you, so I might as well do it the way I always wanted to, by coming in your mouth."

"I was going to tell you, Tommy," she said, pulling her bra on.

"Fuck off, Linda."

"I was. Anita Mangan said that she'd tell you if I didn't."

"But you thought you'd just get a free dinner out of me before you did?" I said, "That sounds about right for you."

"Tommy, look," she tried to reason with me. "You're a great bloke but you don't have the money to take me out every week. Gary does."

"I know, Linda, but I have some now," I said.

"What? €1,600? Sure, you owe ten times that to the bank."

"Not after tomorrow, Linda," I said. "I won quite a bit more than that."

"What? How much?"

"It's nothing to do with you now. We're done, now get the fuck out of my car."

"How am I going to get home?"

"Give Gary a ring."

"But he doesn't have a car."

"That's not all he doesn't have, Linda," I said. "You made your bed now fuck off!"

We both got out of the car, and I jumped into the driver's seat. She ran around to my window.

"Tommy, please don't do this. I'm sorry. I'll get rid of Gary. I swear. Please don't leave me out here on the beach."

I relented and opened the passenger door. She got in and fixed herself up as best she could.

"Where’s my knickers?"

"Shut the fuck up," I said, "I'll drop you at the first taxi I see."

She remained quiet and I dropped her to her door instead. She got out of the car, and I drove away as fast as I could. I called Anita Mangan on my way home.

"Hey Anita, it's Tommy Dunne."

"Ah Tommy, how are you?"

"I believe you tried to get Linda to tell me something."

"Oh, did she finally tell you?"

"In a roundabout kind of way."

"What does that mean?"

"Can I take you out for a drink tomorrow night and I'll explain it to you," I said, "I also want to thank you."

"I'm working tomorrow night, Tommy, but if you like, you can come over now?"

“Ok, I'll just spin home and get cleaned up, give me thirty minutes."

"Ok, I'll tidy the place up, it's an absolute mess."

I drove home and ran up the path to the house. I didn’t want to smell of Linda when I met Anita and planned a quick shower and a change of clothes. I stopped halfway up the path as I returned to retrieve Gráinne’s urn from the car. I ran back down, opened the glove compartment, and lifted it out. It was warm again, similar to the temperature it had been during the last race earlier that day.

I scratched my head. Was the urn telling me something? Hardly, it was surely a coincidence. I put it in my pocket and went inside. My phone rang as I placed the urn onto the table. It was Anita.

“Are you far away, Tommy?” she asked.

I was about to tell her that I’d changed my mind when a glow from within the urn flashed orange, then red.

“I’m just at my place. Are you ok?”

“Yes. You wouldn’t be an angel and get us a pint of milk, would you?”

“Of course, Anita. Anything else you need?”

“You can surprise me,” she said and laughed.

It had been a year or two since I’d seen her, but Anita was quite a beauty. When she was younger, she was painfully thin, but she’d filled out into a stunning woman. It was always a mystery to me why she hadn’t been snapped up before now. Of course, the usual lesbian rumours abounded but I never bought into them since we had great friends for years. She was very clever, educated, and intelligent and I relaxed as I began to enjoy looking forward to seeing her.

“Ok, leave that with me,” I said and hung up with a smile.

The urn had stopped glowing. I felt it with my hand. It was cold.

TBC