Bridge over Troubled Water

Monday 12th.

Caught the 57. Took my seat at my regular table. Patted my cushion three times. Grunted a greeting to partner and began shuffling the cards. Two riffle and five overhand shuffles.

Dealt starting from my left.

Picked up my cards and tapped them into shape. Counted them onto the table face down. Three, three, three and four. Patted them into shape. Counted them again, four, three, three, three.

Sorted them into suits. What was the date? 12th, so that was red, black, red, black. Hearts, spades, diamonds, clubs. High to low.

We had a big win. Partner didn’t help. My play carried the day. I told him straight – pull your socks up, or I’ll get a new partner. He had the temerity to argue! Still, we won again. £5.00.

Wednesday14th.

Had to catch the 18, so I was late. Someone had sat at my table.

I always avoided Table 7.

Partner was already sitting there. He scowled. He knew Table 1 was my table. I sat down and shuffled quickly. I misdealt. I had only 12 cards. Had to reshuffle.

What was the date? 15th, so that’s black, red, black, red.

We lost badly. Partner’s fault, of course. We had a bit of a spat at the last table. When we were on kitchen duty, he put a cup in with the mugs. I told him, ‘A place for everything, and everything in its place.’ Useless!

Thursday 15th.

Caught the 57. Got there early, but the doors were locked. Felt a fool. Good job, there was no one to see. Yesterday was the 14th, not the 15th. Wrong sort order. That's why we lost. Partner's fault for scowling. Made me rush.

Friday 16th.

Got my table after a bit of a row. I told them, 'I’ve been a member for 20 years; this is my table.' Partner looked a bit embarrassed. No guts. That’s why he underbids.

Some new chap came in wearing shorts and one of those Hawaiian shirts. I put him straight, ‘There are standards to be maintained.’

Plumped my cushion.

Got it right. Riffles, overhands, counting, start on my left, red, black, red, black, suits in the right order.

We lost! Lowest score ever! He blamed me. Said I got it all wrong and listed my faults. It didn’t end well. The chairman had to intervene. Sent to the naughty corner!

Saturday 17th.

Two letters were on the mat when I came downstairs.

I recognised partner’s handwriting. He came straight to the point; he has found a new partner. Didn’t even wish me well.

The other is typed.

I opened it, the club’s letterhead, ‘Dear Mr Thomas, The committee regrets…’

I pulled my dressing gown tight against the cold and slumped into the kitchen chair.

My fingers on the table started a drumbeat. Three … three, …