‘Yes! It’s – it’s amazing. I can’t believe it. It’s just incredible!’ And it is. It really is. I’m trying so hard to push through the disconnect I’m feeling. Trying to put the irrational fear behind me and enjoy the moment.
‘Why don’t we go inside, and I can tell you more?’ Susie suggests. ‘Is that OK? We’ve brought champagne!’
‘Everyone, come through.’ Dev laughs, his eyes wet with emotion as he regards the DreamKey team. ‘Come on in. All of you.’
Everyone squeezes inside, clogging our tiny hallway with bodies and technical equipment. Someone shuts the front door behind us.
Dev leads them into our cramped living room and I cringe at the mess. Magazines, dirty plates, half-filled mugs of cold coffee. The clothes dryer strewn with damp garments Dev must have draped over it when he emptied the washing-machine before leaving for work.
This was supposed to be my job for today: catching up with the cleaning.
A young woman moves quickly, plumping the sofa cushions while another gathers the dirty dishes. Within minutes, the mess disappears, leaving the sofa spotless.
‘I need to – I should get dressed,’ I say faintly.
‘No, no, you look fine. Really!’ Susie insists, laying a perfectly manicured hand on my arm. ‘You’re keeping it real, Merri. People will identify with your shock. They’ll believe it could be them next time!’
Still smiling, Dev guides me to sit down while tripods and light equipment are quickly assembled around us. I step over thick, snaking cables and sit next to him on the sofa in a daze. Watch as someone carries in a couple of cut-glass flutes – not the flimsy supermarket specials from our cupboard – and pink champagne, with a custom DreamKey label, appears as if by magic.
‘Ta-dah!’ Susie holds the bottle aloft like a light sabre.
‘How?’ I whisper to Dev, as she pops the cork. ‘How is this even real?’
‘Who cares?’ Dev answers loudly, taking two glasses of champagne from Susie and handing me one. ‘The important thing is that we did it, honey! We actually won the bloody house. Cheers!’
I clink my glass against his, excitement finally beginning to triumph above the nausea rising in my chest. The photographer appears again. ‘Let’s capture this moment. Faces a little closer together. That’s it! Both look at me and smile.’ I try my best to muster a grin but, out of the corner of my eye, I can see Susie growing frustrated at my lack of visible enthusiasm.
‘What will the photos be used for?’ I ask. The photographer beams. ‘This is all for the DreamKey winners’ section on our website. People love seeing the real people behind the biggest prizes. OK, both looking at the camera for me, and … smile!’
At the last second, I lift my glass, trying to inject some energy into my expression as the camera shutter fires off in rapid succession. It helps to know the photos are just for thewebsite – that hopefully they’ll go no further, and we’ll be able to maintain our privacy. Dev is like a pro, playing up to the camera. Holding up his glass, changing his pose. I’ve never seen him like this, giddy on the attention and excitement.
‘We’re rich, Merri … Do you hear me?We’re rich!’ Dev whispers in my ear, his face suddenly serious. ‘All our problems are behind us now. You’d better believe it because it’s true.’
I swallow more champagne and nod, feeling the warmth of the alcohol in my throat. And for the first time since I opened the door to the DreamKey team, I start to believe it is.
6
Later, when the DreamKey people have finally left and the light is dropping outside, Dev and I sit in our cosy little living room. The last of the sunlight filters through the wooden slatted blinds, casting long shadows across the floor.
‘So, is it OK with you if I call people to tell them the news?’ Dev says. He has lots of friends and acquaintances. He keeps in touch with mates he met at primary school, which I find incredible. ‘I’ll WhatsApp the footie-group lads.’
‘Yes, and I’ll ring Paige,’ I say, realizing how woeful it sounds that I’ve got only my best friend – my one friend – to call, and that’s it.
‘Meet up here again after and finish the champagne?’ Dev grins.
‘It’s a date.’
In the kitchen, my thumb hovers over Paige’s name on my call list. She’s a good friend on so many levels and she’s always there for me. But I’ve learned to get ready to brace myself when I have good news. Like when Dev’s family bought us a second-hand car. I’d been so excited, gushing about how much easier life would be, but Paige had just smiled tightly and said, ‘Must be nice, having in-laws with deep pockets.’
Or that time they covered the rental deposit on our house. She’d laughed then and called me ‘jammy’, but there had been something in her voice. Something that made me feel I should almost be apologizing for it.
But this news is so out there she’s bound to be thrilled for me. I know it.
I tap in Paige’s name and tuck the phone between my ear and my shoulder, my hands still shaking from the sheer madness of it all. I stand at the window and wait. The line rings twice before she picks up.
‘Hey,’ she says, her voice warm. ‘Can’t manage without talking to me for a day?’
I let out a half-laugh, half-breathless gasp. ‘Paige, you won’t believe this.’
