Page 4 of The Winning Ticket

I managed to pull myself together enough to find the hotel details in the email Richard had his assistant send. Driving on autopilot, I somehow get myself all checked in without losing it in the middle of the foyer.

After finding my room, I let Maddie out into the courtyard so she can sniff around, and I slide down onto the floor at the end of the bed with my phone gripped tightly in my hand. Our flight isn’t supposed to leave for a few more hours, so I use a shaking finger to tap on Richard’s name in my favourites list and press my phone firmly to my ear.

It rings once and goes straight to voicemail.

I stare at the phone, realising with a sinking heart that he has blocked my number.

I start working my way through our friends in Sydney, one after the other, and each time, the phone rings once and goes through to voicemail. My heart begins to race again.

This can’t be happening. Surely they haven’t all blocked me so quickly?

Humiliation starts to overcome my anxiety. How could I have let myself get into a position like this? All these people I’d thought were my friends have just wiped their hands clean of me.

Finally, finger shaking, I press the name of the one person I know will never let me down.

The sound of Morgan’s voice, when she answers after the first ring, tips me over the edge, and I struggle to get any words out as my body starts heaving with great big sobs.

“Oh honey, what’s going on?”

I have no idea how to tell her that the man she can’t stand has ripped my heart out and stomped all over it. So I just keep on crying.

2

SCARED I'M GONNA BREAK SOMETHING

JAKE

Two weeks ago, I was handed the keys to the apartment I had won. The reality still hasn’t entirely set in.

I bought the tickets months ago when I was cornered at the shopping centre near Mum’s place by the people selling them for charity. When they mentioned it was to support children’s mental health, I hadn’t even checked what the prize was. I bought a book of twenty tickets and promptly forgot all about it.

So now here I am, standing in the middle of the fanciest apartment I’ve ever seen while still dressed in my hi-vis clothes, suddenly very aware that I am filthy and way out of my element in this place. I haven’t had a chance to come here until now, as work has been so busy, and it was a three-hour drive from where I live in Stanthorpe to Brisbane.

But now I’ve made plans to come here for the weekend and hang out with my old schoolmates at this classy penthouse apartment that is now, against all odds, mine.

I’m sure the other building occupants will be confused when seeing a tradie’s ute parked in the penthouse parking spaces. I’d passed quite a few expensive little cars before I’d come across my space.

I don’t fit the stereotype of someone who owns a two-million-dollar penthouse apartment in Kangaroo Point right on the river. If I hadn’t grown up in this city, I would feel like a country boy out of his element. Nobody expects an electrician from a country town to win over three million dollars worth of cash and prizes. I spend most of my life wearing high-vis safety gear and trying not to electrocute myself when crawling around inside people’s ceilings.

Returning from my second trip to the ute for the last of my stuff, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, alerting me to an incoming message. Once I dump the groceries on the bench in the incredibly nice kitchen, I dig my phone out of my back pocket and open up to a message from Will, one of my two best mates. Although I headed out to Stanthorpe after graduation to join my father as the “son” in Boyd and Sons Electrical Services, Will, Chris and I are always in contact, and I head back to Brisbane whenever possible. We have all remained close to our tight-knit friendship circle from school, which includes their partners and a few others.

Will

How’s the new digs? Still good for 7 for us to head over? I just got home.

Jake

Yep, all good. This place is insane. I’m scared I’m gonna break something.

Will sends back a laughing emoji, and I toss my phone aside, busying myself with putting the groceries away while I crack a beer and guzzle it down.

Once the groceries are away, I give myself the grand tour. There are four bedrooms, starting with a large master with an oversized bed and a connected bathroom that is bigger than my bedroom at home. Besides the two other bathrooms and a media room, there’s a super fancy kitchen with every gadget known to man (and most of which I have no idea how to use). The kitchen is part of an open-plan space shared with the dining room, and there is a lounge room with a large television attached to the wall. I’d noticed TV’s in each of the bedrooms as well.

Do rich people even talk to each other, or do they hide in their rooms and watch TV?

I finish my tour of the interior before stepping outside and discovering that the best part of the apartment is the huge terrace. I spy a large barbeque with a really nice outdoor setting next to a set of stairs leading to the apartment’s roof. I head over to discover a rooftop spa and yet more seating, with the most fantastic view of the city.

Once I’ve stared at the view for long enough and finished my beer, I head back inside to shower, still unable to believe this all belongs to me now.

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