‘I don’t know about that. There are questions about Henry we can’t ever answer. Perhaps faith can help you, Lucky?’

‘I don’t think it will. It never has. I’d prefer to live in a different fantasy.’

‘Like what?’

‘That things can change. That tomorrow my life will be different. That I still have some link to the life I almost led.’

2.

From the studio doors a queue of Wheel of Fortune audience members stretched across the footpath and onto a grassed area, where the line formed a concentric rill that ran murmuring along, interrupted here and there by producers and interns handing out bottled water and chocolate bars. As directed by the letter headed ‘What to Do as a Contestant’, which arrived the previous week, Lucky went straight to the door and presented identification—an expired driver’s licence. He wore a white shirt, a tie, and a brown blazer. He carried a small suitcase in which he’d packed a change of clothes, assuming he would proceed past the first episode.

Inside the studio building, Lucky was met by the producer Dan, who was all pseudo-sincere remorse for being a few minutes late. He kept running his hands through his hair and touching the stud in one of his ears. Lucky felt as if he were meeting him for the first time: the producer had the manner of someone who dealt with scores of different people every day and didn’t remember anyone who wouldn’t be sticking around, who wasn’t important. Dan asked several ‘funny old questions that are a requirement of my job’, such as: Do you have children? Are you involved in current libel suits or other litigation?

Dan asked: ‘Do you have a gambling problem?’

‘Not anymore.’

‘Thank you for being honest with us. When did you stop gambling?’

‘In 1998.’

‘Congratulations. Wow, what an achievement. My aunt had a poker machine problem but now she’s sober. Maybe that’s the wrong terminology. Whatever, she’s good now. Do you feel prepared? You can’t prepare for Wheel, though, can you? That’s what I love about this show.’

‘Before I got on the train I took beta blockers and Valium and a small glass of brandy. For nerves. I get some nerves.’

‘Gosh, nothing bad’s ever happened to anyone who mixed Valium and alcohol before appearing on television.’

‘Are you being sarcastic?’

‘To tell you the truth, we don’t often select contestants who are well into their seventies.’

‘I understand,’ said Lucky. ‘They look old.’

‘Also, we try not to overdo the sad stories on Wheel. Obviously the history of Lucky’s is, you know, heartbreaking, but my producers tell me you have loads of vigour. That’s the word they used. You bring that to the table, right? And you can be likeable? Because this is television and you have to take us with you.’