Cinch Hand (4/6) By Nick Quantrill

(1/6), (2/6), (3/6), (4/6), (5/6), (6/6).

'Your husband kindly invited me over to join a game of poker.' 'I see. A chance for you to recoup some of the money you wasted chasing me around the city?' She knew more than I gave her credit for. I smile back at her. 'And a little bit more if I'm lucky.' She snorts in derision and moves away from me, melting back into the crowd. 'Found you, Berry,' says Brogan, as he grips me firmly on the shoulder. My first reaction is to turn around and thump him, but it's not the done thing in polite company.

'Just soaking up the atmosphere?' he asks. I look around. 'Something like that.'

He leads me through the crowd and towards the stairs. We climb the stairs and walk down the narrow corridor, past his office, away from the noise of the bar. The upstairs area neatly contrasts with the bar area. Here it's all scabby carpets and undecorated walls. The whole place seems to favour style over substance, a neat summing of Brogan, I think, if ever there was one. As we pass, I glance into his office. I see Mrs. Brogan looking over the books. Brogan ushers me into another room. I assume it's what passes as his meeting room. I nod to the other players. I recognise local councilor Graham Parkinson from his numerous photographs in the local rag, Brogan's business partner, Keith Davies, is also present, as is our old accountancy boss, Roger Kershaw.

Call me cynical, but it's a very neat business circle if ever I've seen one. I'm sketchy as to how he built his business empire, but these people look like they may come in handy if you're a budding entrepreneur.

Brogan swiftly places a tray in front of me with a full glass of Southern Comfort, no mixer. He instructs me to place my almost empty glass on it. I take my seat at the table and Brogan makes the introductions. I look at the nibbles that are on offer. I didn't even know what some of the things were. There was a distinct lack of sausage rolls, and I didn't fancy the olives, so I decided to go hungry. Brogan deals the first hand. I look at my cards; not a good start. I casually glance around the table. None of the other players are giving anything away. Brogan gets the ball rolling as he throws a couple of pound coins into the pot. A friendly start to the game before the stakes are raised for the evening.

After a couple of hands, I'm not feeling so lucky anymore. Thankfully the only other guy left in was our accountancy friend. Prudence ruled and I was only just over a tenner out of pocket. Brogan had enjoyed a good laugh after I lost the first hand, before leaving to sniff us out some more light refreshments. The second hand followed the same pattern as the first and I'm sat there with egg on my face, after bluffing more strongly than I should have done.

Continued... Next Page (5/6)

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