Free Licence to Dream by Anna Jacobs

at the ticket till everything ran into a blur. How much had she won? It could be anything from a couple of hundred thousand dollars, if the prize was shared between several people, to over a million. According to Rosanna, who had once won fifty dollars, you didn't find out how much you'd won until late Monday afternoon. Meriel groaned aloud. Over a day to wait! How was she going to bear it? She might – she really might be quite rich. Well, rich by her standards, anyway.
    The thought that followed seemed to etch itself into her brain in letters of fire – rich enough to give up work and try to become a full-time commercial artist. She caught her breath on a gasp, then told herself to get a grip. She shouldn’t count on anything till her win was confirmed.
    She made another cup of coffee then wondered whether to open a bottle of champagne, but it was no fun celebrating on your own. She rang Rosanna to share her news, but her friend’s mobile was switched off. The coffee was stone cold by the time she took a sip, as she tried to come to terms with the thought that she might be able to stop working as an accountant.
    After a while, feeling as if the walls were closing in on her, she grabbed her shoulder bag and went out, driving into Perth then going for a brisk walk along the river. The beauty of the day gradually seeped into her bones and she could feel herself relaxing. Blue water reflected even bluer sky, its movement chopping up the reflections of the buildings on the southern shore into a million fragments that nonetheless formed a pleasing whole. The ferry chugged slowly across the river like a prim spinster aunt then chugged back again.
    She felt better out in the open air. She always did.
    Hunger drove her home again and the evening crawled past at an agonising snail's pace. She kept trying to phone Rosanna’s mobile and getting no answer. She kept looking at the clock and finding that only a few minutes had passed. She kept staring into space, hoping, praying that she would win enough money to escape being an accountant – for a while at least.
    * * * *
    When she went to work on the Monday morning she said nothing to anyone, not even her friend, because Rosanna would be bound to shriek for joy and Meriel didn’t want anyone else knowing about her win yet.
    ‘You don't look well,’ Rosanna said. ‘You should have stayed at home.’
    ‘It's just a – a touch of the collywobbles.’
    Rosanna chuckled. ‘You don’t have much of a pommy accent but you do use some funny words sometimes. Collywobbles! What does that mean?’
    ‘Australian translation: I've picked up a stomach wog.’
    Meriel spent most of the day locked in her office, pushing papers to and fro, but getting nowhere. Thank goodness she had no client appointments today. She couldn’t concentrate properly on anything.
    In the afternoon, heart pounding, she rang the Lotteries Commission hotline to see what this week's prizes were worth. A mechanical voice told her that the first prize was shared between two people and would amount to just over a million and a half dollars each. She stood there, frozen in shock, with the recording still droning away in her ear.
    What you gonna do when you win Lotto? The silly jingle from some TV adverts she’d seen a while ago began to pound through her brain again and she had to take several deep breaths before she could move. Setting the receiver down with extreme care, she left her office. She had to share the news with someone, just had to.
    She made it along the corridor, then the world started tilting and she had to clutch the doorframe. ‘Rosanna, I – ’ Everything started to whirl around her and the next thing she knew, she was staggering across the room.
    When she collapsed into a chair, her friend stared down at her, plump arms akimbo. ‘Did you eat any lunch today?’
    ‘Er – no. I wasn't hungry. Rosanna, I – ’
    ‘What did you have for breakfast?’
    ‘I don't remember.’
    ‘Meriel Ingram,