I sat at the table, surrounded by family, and fanned out the cards. A row of red hustled into each other. My hand hovered over my depleted pile of money. If I lost my nerve I would have to leave the game.
‘I could double your bet to two,’ I say, trying not to grin.
My only opponent doubles the bet the again, and I look to my depleted pile. This is too good a hand to fold. If I doubled the bet, I would be left with nothing, but I had to try.
I take a breath and say, ‘I bet ten pence.’
‘Too steep for me.’ My uncle laughs and his cards are thrown on the table.
I turn over my cards, my first royal flush.