She almost stepped on it as she hurried through the shopping centre on her way to the bus stop. Stooping cautiously, she picked up a brown purse, then, gradually straightened up to look around. Not a soul in sight. Unsurprising at 10 am on a Monday morning, so what should she do? Hand it in at one of the shops? But how did she know which shops the purse’s owner had been into and would the owner even know where she’d dropped it. No, she’d get the bus home and then hand it in at the police station this afternoon.

Once she’d settled into her seat Rosie lifted the purse from her shopping bag. The soft, brown leather felt substantial in her roughened hands. She gently touched the gold pattern and entwined letters, L and V, which were embossed on the surface. Then, feeling like a snooper she tugged the leather tab on the golden zip. Rosie gasped as the purse revealed its contents. Glancing around furtively to check that no one was watching she touched the top of the notes sitting snuggly in the wallet compartment and without withdrawing them, she started to count. Twelve twenty pound notes and two five pound notes - the purse contained £250! She quickly closed the purse and replaced it in her shopping bag, which she clutched protectively until she reached home.

Jim listened to her story, inspected the purse and then offered to take it to the police station after lunch. Rosie hesitated, ‘It’s £250, Jim. Imagine having £250 to spare. We’re lucky to have £10 left over at the end of the month.’

‘Imagine away, Rosie, but this money isn’t ours. Whoever lost it is probably worried sick right now. You don’t know what they might have needed it for’.

‘Huh, if they can afford a posh purse like that, I bet they don’t need that money as much as we do’.

‘But we don’t need it, Rosie, we get by.’

‘Oh, yes and what about Rowan’s school trip?

Jim hesitated. They’d picked up their grandson, Rowan, from school yesterday along with his friend Sam. Sam had been telling them how disappointed he was that Rowan couldn’t come on their class’s five day camping trip to the Highlands next month. Rose had listened silently when Rowan insisted that he really didn’t want to go and would be quite happy to spend the week at school. Both Rosie and Jim knew that the real reason Rowan wasn’t going on the trip was because his parents couldn’t afford to pay the £200 fee. His stoical acceptance of the situation, only served to increase the guilt and sadness she felt at their inability to help.

‘I understand how you feel’, Jim replied, ‘But, think back to when we were at school. Did you ever get to go on any of these school trips? I certainly didn’t. Yes, I would have liked to go, but I knew that the money wasn’t there, so there was no point hankering after it’. Rosie recalled her school’s annual pilgrimage to Lourdes. She desperately wanted to go, not particularly for the religious experience, but just to share the excitement of foreign travel with her classmates. Like Jim, she’d simply accepted the situation, but that’s not what she wanted for her grandson.

‘Alright’, she agreed reluctantly. ‘But no need make a special journey to the police station this afternoon. I have to go into town tomorrow morning so I’ll drop it in then.’

Next morning, while Jim was out at his allotment, Rosie rang their daughter, Jane and asked if it was too late for Rowan to book a place on the school trip. Puzzled, Jane said she’d check it out, then asked how would they pay. Rosie told her the story, adding that she’d decided not to take the purse to the police station and that she’d find some way of talking Jim round. Jane exclaimed. ‘You can’t do that. Yes, Rowan is disappointed that he can’t go, but he’ll probably have much worse setbacks in his life. Having to do without now will help him appreciate any good fortune in the future.’

Rosie, was not so easily persuaded, ‘Jane, you should see this purse. I checked it out on the computer at the library. It’s one of those Louis Vuitton ones and probably cost three or four hundred pounds. If you can afford to pay that for a purse you can afford to lose £250.’

Jane replied, ‘And it could also be a cheap fake from the market and the person who lost it was probably on their way to their son’s school to pay for his camping trip. Keeping that money is as good as stealing it’.

‘Oh, you’re just like your father’, Rosie replied and put the phone down. She picked up the purse and inspected it closely. This was no fake. The quality was exquisite. She opened it up and gazed again at the wad of notes, then turned it over and noticed a flap on the back. She opened the flap and pulled out what looked like a piece of card. It was a photo of a man, an older man, probably in his 80s, with an almost pixie-like grin beneath a thatch of white hair. Rosie gazed at the photo for several minutes, then put it back into the purse and got ready to leave the house.

Two days later she had a call from the local police station. They had located the owner of the purse, who had come in that morning to collect it. The owner had said that she was especially grateful for its return as it had been given to her by her father on her 50th birthday. But of even greater significance was the return of the photo. It was the last photo taken of her father, who had died just a month ago. She’d been clearing out his house when she’d come across the bundle of £20 notes in a drawer. In acknowledgement of her gratitude, she had asked the police to pass on a reward to the finder – the £250 that had been in the purse.

It took Rosie some minutes to recover from the shock and savour her elation. She then picked up the phone and rang Jane to tell her the good news. Jane listened and started to laugh. ‘Mum, haven’t you always said that if you and dad had enough money to take a weekend break, you’d love to go to Paris’ Rosie replied a little impatiently, ‘You know your dad and I don’t have money for weekends away’.

‘Well you do now’ said Jane. Rowan’s friend Sam has broken his ankle and can’t go on the school trip. The pair of them are in their element planning what they’ll get up to while the rest of the class is away. You’d better get down to the travel agent tomorrow and book one of those EasyJet flights. While you’re at it, keep your eyes peeled for any posh purses lying around’.

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