Dominic tips the cards out of the pack and begins to shuffle. Simone disappears into the kitchen, returning moments later with a large box of matches. She shakes them onto the table and divides them into little piles. ‘Fifteen each. Winner takes all.’ A smile plays on her lips. ‘Loser downs a shot of whisky.’
Felix whoops. Victoria tuts but doesn’t argue. Barney slumps in his seat. Dominic starts dealing. When he reaches me I lay a hand on his arm.
‘Not for me.’
‘What?’
‘I’ve never played poker.’
‘Never played poker?’ Felix says in disbelief.
I shrug. The only card game I’ve ever played is Happy Families with Gran when I was little. I used to love collecting the sets of woodland badgers, robins and squirrels in cute Victorianoutfits. Mr, Mrs, Master and Miss. It was all so neat and perfect, nothing like my splintered family. How I yearned to be Miss Rabbit, dancing in her pretty dress, a bunch of flowers at her feet, with a mum and a dad and a brother who loved her.
‘You’ll be fine,’ Dom says. ‘It’s easy. I’ll give you a quick crash course. It’s not proper poker, just the way we used to play it at uni. Everyone’s dealt two cards. The aim is to put down the best hand you can, like a pair, three of a kind or, if you’re lucky, a straight. That’s five cards in order.’
‘I thought you said we only got two cards.’
‘You can take cards from the pile in the middle. We play with a maximum of five. If you don’t like what you’ve got, you can always fold and sit the round out. The player with the best hand wins the pot.’ Seeing my expression, he says, ‘We’ll play a practice round first. You’ll soon see what I mean.’
He continues dealing and I pick up my two cards. Two Jacks, one hearts, the other clubs. The Jack of Diamonds grins up at me from the pile on the table.
‘You go first,’ Dom tells me.
I shrug again, feigning nonchalance, and pick up the Jack. ‘Um, stick,’ I say.
Barney squints at his hand, then snatches a card from the pile. ‘Brilliant,’ he mutters, chucking it back onto the table.
Victoria plucks a card from the pile and smiles like the cat that got the cream. ‘Now we’re talking. You next, Willow.’
Willow, Felix and Simone take their cards and then it’s Dominic’s turn. He examines his card, his eyes flicking to Simone as he pulls at his earlobe. ‘Shall we show them our party trick?’
Simone’s eyes widen a fraction. ‘Reckon we still can after all this time?’
He stretches out his knuckles and grins. ‘I’m game if you are.’
‘What party trick?’ Willow demands.
‘The one where I can read Dom’s mind.’ Simone uncurls her long legs and leans forwards, her gaze fixed on my boyfriend like she can see straight into his soul.
‘They used to do it at uni,’ Victoria explains to the rest of us. ‘People would bet money they couldn’t guess which card the other was holding.’
‘But we always did,’ Simone gloats.
‘Yep. Our winnings paid for many a pint in the student union bar,’ Dom agrees. He looks around, his handsome face suddenly boyish. ‘Who’s in?’
‘I bet all my matches it’s bullshit.’ Felix drops his matches in the middle of the table, as does Willow. Barney shakes his head and pours himself another finger of whisky. Simone’s gaze turns to me.
‘Well, Amber? What do you think? Can I read Dom’s mind?’
‘Um.’ I sweep my matches from the edge of the table into the palm of my hand. ‘No, I think you’re bluffing.’ Because they must be, mustn’t they? Mind-reading is about as legit as clairvoyancy or summoning the recently departed. Gran used to believe in all that superstitious claptrap. She even used to pay a local clairvoyant money we could ill afford for readings every couple of months. Psychic Sue didn’t tell her anything she hadn’t already gleaned from the photos on our mantelpiece or the titbits of information Gran had let slip. Psychic Sue told Gran she had a nurturing aura and that she’d faced obstacles in her past that had tested her to breaking point. But everyone on our estate knew I lived with her because my mum was an alkie. Psychic Sue didn’t divulge anything useful, like that week’s winning lottery numbers or the first horse to cross the line in the Grand National. Nor did she warn Gran she’d die in her sleep on the eve of her seventieth birthday.
‘OK, let’s do this.’ Simone holds out her hands and Dominic takes them. They both close their eyes. It’s just showmanship, Iknow it is, so why is the roof of my mouth suddenly dry? I take a sip of Coke and wait for the charade to be over. Finally, Simone releases Dominic’s hands and they fall to his lap.
‘Queen of Spades,’ she says.
‘You sure?’ Dominic asks.
‘One hundred per cent.’
