“I don’t know how to play!” I whisper in a panic to Danny.

At least…I sort of know how to play. It’s the same as twist, isn’t it? I play twist with Mum and Dad every year at Christmas. But are there special rules in Las Vegas?

“Easy,” Danny says. “Put down some chips. Twenty dollars.” He takes the chips from my hand and places them firmly in a circle on the table. The croupier is a Japanese-looking girl and she barely acknowledges my chips, just waits till everyone has bet, then deals out the cards.

I’ve got a six of hearts and a six of spades.

“Twist,” I say loudly, and everyone stares at me.

“You don’t say ‘Twist,’ ” says Danny, glancing at my cards. “You want to split.”

I don’t know what that is, but I’ll trust Danny.

“OK,” I say boldly. “Split.”

“Don’t say ‘Split,’ ” mutters Danny. “Put your extra chips here”—he points at the table—“and make a ‘V’ with your fingers.”

“OK.” I follow his guidance, feeling suddenly very cool and professional. The dealer separates my two cards and deals again.

“Oh, I see!” I exclaim as she gives me an eight of clubs and a ten of hearts. “I have two piles now! I’m bound to win!”

I look around the table, watching as everyone plays. This is actually quite fun.

“Becky, you’re up,” murmurs Danny. “Everyone’s waiting.”

“Oh, right.” I peer at my cards. One pile totals fourteen and the other totals sixteen. What should I do? Twist or stick? Er…My mind flips backward and forward, undecided.

“Becky?”

“Yes, give me a second….” God, this game is hard. I mean, it’s really hard. How do I decide? I close my eyes and try to channel the betting gods. But they’re clearly on a tea break.

“Becky?” prompts Danny again.

Everyone at the table is frowning at me. Honestly. Don’t they realize how difficult this is?

“Ummm.” I massage my brow. “I’m not sure. I just need to think….”

“Ma’am?” Now the croupier is looking impatient. “Ma’am, you need to play.”

Argh. Gambling is so stressy! It’s like trying to decide whether to buy a marked-down coat in the Selfridges sale, when there might be a better one at Liberty, but if you leave this one, it might get snapped up by someone else….

“What shall I do?” I appeal around the table. “How do you all stay so calm?”

“Ma’am, it’s gambling. You just make a choice.”

“OK, twist,” I say at last. “Hit. Whatever. On both of them. Ooh, shall I double down?” I turn to Danny. I don’t know what double down is, but I’ve heard it in films, so it must be a thing.

“No,” he says firmly.

The croupier deals a nine and a ten, finishes the round, and scoops my chips toward her.

“What?” I say in bewilderment. “What just happened?”

“You went bust,” says Danny.

“But…is that it? Doesn’t she even say anything?”

“No. She just takes your money. And mine too. Bummer.”