In the aftermath of a Drogheda shop assistant tracking down the buyer of a winning lottery ticket,  ROSITA BOLANDasks people if they'd do the same, and what they think a suitable reward would be for returning it

EVER SINCE Tom Heavey, a shop assistant at McConnell’s Centra in Drogheda proactively tracked down the owner of a left-behind €350,000 winning lottery ticket last week, his honesty has been praised by many, including Dermot Finglas, whose ticket it was.

Finglas has promised to look after the man now known as the “honest shopkeeper”, and is reported to be buying him a mobile camper van – something Heavey has always wanted – as a thank-you gesture.

So what would you do, if you had the opportunity to claim a forgotten winning ticket that did not belong to you? And what would you think is an appropriate sum of money to give to the person who returned the ticket to you?

“I’d absolutely be tempted to keep the ticket, big time, especially in this day and age.” Jan de Groot, a trader on the corner of Grafton Street, pauses from hanging up bags and scarves at his stall. “It’s a luck thing,” he explains. “It’s not as if the money was someone’s wages they dropped in the shop. It’s the Lotto, it’s luck, it’s money that didn’t exist before. That guy was very honest, especially to go to all that trouble to find him.”

What would he give Tom Heavey? “The whole reason I’d have any money would be because he found the ticket, so I’d go half and half.”

John Murphy is leaning on the boardwalk railing beside the Ha’penny Bridge, looking upriver, with an expression of bemusement on his face. It turns out this is his first time back in Ireland, which he left all of 55 years ago. He left Waterford in 1953, aged 14, on the “cattle boat” to England, where he went to work right away in the demolition business in London. He’s two days into trying to process half a century of changes, and he’s overwhelmed.

He hadn’t previously heard about the Drogheda win, but the story fascinates him. “I wouldn’t give that ticket back. The Lotto is like putting money on a horse, when it’s gone, it’s gone, so nobody would ever know. I doubt many people would give it back. I’m honest, but not that honest. That kind of thing only happens once in a lifetime. He’s an honest man, whoever he is – or maybe he’s a bit mad. I’d say he’s a bit crazy. Is he crazy?

“Would I give him anything? Ah, I’d give him something, about €20,000, I suppose.”

Imelda Bannon, who is a shopkeeper herself, is eating an ice cream outside Waterstones. “Oh, you’d be very tempted to keep it, but I think I’d give it up. It’s not your luck. And the way it is when you work in a shop, there are usually two or three other people there too, so someone would have seen you with the ticket anyway.

“What would I give the shopkeeper if it was me? Well, it all depends on the person whose ticket it is. But he was very honest that shopkeeper, so I’d give him a big decent amount – €500. I have lots of family so I’d have to look after them first.”

“You wouldn’t know what you’d do until it’d happen to you,” admits Derek Moloney, a security guard standing near the escalator in the Jervis Street Centre. “I’d be tempted to keep the ticket, all right. You could retire on that kind of money. I don’t know why the shopkeeper didn’t keep it. He must have a few bob put away and doesn’t need it.

“If it was me, I’d give him something. Probably €50,000.”

Patrick Kennedy is having a coffee in the concourse of the Jervis Street Centre. He knows all about the story, and he would not have returned the ticket. “It stands to reason you’d keep the ticket. I’d have kept it. But maybe you wouldn’t know what you’d do until it happened to you. I’d definitely have kept it unless the ticket belonged to someone I knew. It’s a very hard decision.

“If it was my ticket, I’d give that guy €25,000.”

On Moore Street, Peter Cassidy is minding a friend’s fruit and vegetable stall for the day. “It would depend on what kind of person it was whose ticket it was. If it was an old person, I’d give it back. But if it was a young person who can earn money, I’d think twice about it. That would be different.

“I’d give the shopkeeper who found it €50,000. If it wasn’t for him, you’d have nothing at all, so the least you can do is look after him a bit.”

At the Happy Shop newsagents on Burgh Quay, Manishkumar Luthra, who is from Gujarat in India and has been living here for three years, sells lottery tickets every day to customers, including the quick-pick type that Dermot Finglas left behind him.

“I’d definitely find the person who owned it, and hand it over to them. I’m from India and that’s the culture of where I’m from. My soul would not allow me to keep it. Money is not everything. When you die, you leave it behind you anyway. The ticket wasn’t worth much, but even if it was for €150 million, it makes no difference. It’s not mine, so the money wouldn’t stay with me. It wouldn’t be my luck, so it wouldn’t be meant for me. The person who gave back the ticket is really honest, and everybody in Ireland should learn from him.”

Friends Carmel Hendricken and Anne Morris are walking down Liffey Street, on their way to lunch. They both agree they would not have kept the ticket.

“I wouldn’t enjoy the money, it’d come back to haunt me. It’d just be the wrong thing to do,” Hendricken says. “If it was me who owned the ticket, I’d give the shopkeeper something. I have nine siblings, so I don’t know what I’d give him, I’d have to look after them first, but I’d definitely give him something.”

“I’d be guilt-ridden for the rest of my life. My conscience wouldn’t let me keep that ticket,” says Morris. “Superstition, whatever. You’d have no luck with that money.”

The man working in a phone shop on Henry Street doesn’t want to give his name “because I’m signing on the dole”.

“You’d have to give the ticket back is the way I’d see it,” he says. “You’re basically stealing, because it’s his money. Some people would like to have a fast buck, and others would rather have a clear conscience. I wouldn’t have kept it, I’d have to have the clear conscience.”

What about working and signing on the dole at the same time, which could be considered an act of theft? “Oh well, that’s different. It’s not my fault the Government made the mess they did.”