Jake was never sure whether they played by what you could call ‘classic’ poker rules. He always had the feeling that Pip made it up as he went along and that, mostly, it was to his own advantage.

‘Jake,’ Pip butted into his reverie. ‘Put your poker face on, mate. If you just sit there and look like a miserable bastard all night, that’s not fair. We’ll have no chance.’

Jake used to think he had a great poker face—lying to everyone, bluffing his way through life. Somehow the art of organised deception held little thrall for him now. Pip flicked out the cards. Jake, not surprisingly, had been dealt a very shitty hand. Not even a single pair or a decent high card.

They all fanned out their hands, studying them intently. Jake forced himself to look at the cards again. Pip stared at Dan. ‘Change?’

Dan threw in his ten pence. ‘Hit me with two.’

Pip obliged and doled out two fresh cards.

‘Aidan?’

‘I’ll take three,’ he said, also parting with his cash.

‘Any for you, Max?’

Max looked smug. ‘I’ll stick.’

There was a sharp intake of breath. Max also hadn’t mastered the art of a poker face and it was transparent to everyone when he was holding great cards.

‘Jakey-boy?’

Jake threw down all five of his cards. ‘Give me a new set.’

They all looked at him in disgust.

‘What?’ he said. ‘It was a crap hand. There’s nothing in the rules that says I can’t change them all.’

Pip chewed anxiously on his cigar and fixed Jake with a stare. ‘And there’s nothing to say this won’t be crap either,’ he advised. ‘You’ve got to work with what you’ve got. Don’t throw your hand in so easily.’ Jake knew that his friend wasn’t talking about the card game. Nevertheless, he silently dished out five new cards.

As Pip had predicted, they were no better. In fact they were infinitely worse. Didn’t that have a ring to it? Jack in the old one, get a new one that’s ten times more stinky.

‘Dan-Dan?’

‘I’m in.’ Dan put another ten pence on the table.

‘I’ll see your ten and raise you ten,’ Aidan said. There were approving noises all round.

Max looked even more smug. ‘I’ll see your twenty and raise you twenty.’

Everyone sucked in their breath. Fighting talk.

‘Jake?’

‘I’m folding.’ Jake threw down his hand.

‘You can’t fold,’ Pip said.

‘I can,’ Jake said. ‘I have.’

‘That’s pathetic,’ his friend shouted. ‘You’re not even trying.’ Their eyes met in a mutual glare. ‘If you’re not going to play properly, we might as well go and get Aidan’s kids’ pack of Happy Families or play Snap.’

‘I am playing properly,’ Jake protested.

‘Bollocks,’ Pip snorted.