Chapter 18 #2
Now he had everyone’s attention. One thing Joe had quickly realised was that confidence was everything.
He wasn’t thinking about winning, even though that was the whole point, he was considering which cards to play, which cards others were likely to have.
He noticed hesitation by the player on his left.
He knew the older man opposite was bluffing more often than not.
The long-haired man kept his face blank but his thumbs twitched when he had a good hand.
Joe was offered a drink again and refused it politely. Alistair had told him not to be too greedy, too quickly, and Joe heeded that advice. He understood about avoiding visibility. Winning too much, too fast made him visible. But he had respect now from the other players.
Alistair had also told him that once he started to win larger amounts, someone would be monitoring the table closely in case he was cheating.
They’d review the play on surveillance cameras, noting his betting patterns and strategy, whether Joe was doing something specific that gave him an edge.
Alistair had suggested he swap to blackjack if he noticed the dealer slowing down the play.
Joe did swap. But only because he was bored and he’d likely won enough at that particular table.
His ability to count cards gave him an advantage in blackjack, but he’d need to stop before that was noticed, or before they started more frequent manual shuffles.
Online blackjack was no good for him because they automatically shuffled the packs.
The key to winning at gambling was to stop before he was asked to stop.
He suspected that was less likely in a club like this.
Alistair had said he’d tap him on the shoulder when it was time to leave.
He moved to a poker table with higher stakes and for the first time felt a surge of anxiety about the amount he was betting. He didn’t want to lose the money he’d just won. But he didn’t lose.
When the tap came, Joe rose to his feet.
He’d been about to get up anyway. One of the players was cheating.
He started to move away without taking his winnings, until Alistair reminded him.
Stupid. He had so many chips, one of the staff had to help him.
Alistair took one of the chips and spun it over to the dealer.
“I’ll get your money sorted out. Sit and have a drink by the fire,” Alistair told him.
The moment Joe dropped onto a chair, a waiter pounced. “Drink, sir?”
“Do you have something sweet that isn’t alcoholic, please?”
The man nodded and as he walked away, another guy sat in the chair next to him.
“Gerald Ashford.” He had a glass holding an amber liquid in one hand and held out the other.
Joe shook it. “Joe.”
“Just Joe?”
“Yes. Just Joe.”
The man laughed. “You can certainly play, young man. Who taught you?”
“I taught myself.” Once he knew the rules, all he had to do was watch and learn. The better players handled the cards the same way every time, they stacked their chips neatly, they never hesitated. They showed no emotion. Joe had done the same.
“Why did you pick that particular poker table when you started?”
“There was a free seat.” Not the reason but Joe thought a lie was best.
The man swirled his drink. “How much have you won?”
“More than you’d like him to have.” Alistair dropped down on the chair on the other side of Joe. “Gerald is the manager.”
“It’s a very nice place,” Joe said. “I like the paintings. And the carpet. And the chandeliers.”
Gerald chuckled. “Thank you.” He smiled at Joe, then turned to Alistair. “You trying to put me out of business?”
Alistair raised his eyebrows. “I think you can afford the occasional hit.”
“Not if this young man becomes a regular visitor. Simon is not going to be happy.”
“Simon is the club owner,” Alistair told Joe.
Joe’s drink arrived in a tall curved glass filled with pale yellow liquid, a dehydrated pineapple wheel sitting on the rim along with a cherry.
“It’s a virgin pina colada, sir,” said the waiter.
“Thank you very much. How much is it?” Joe fumbled in his pocket.
“You don’t have to pay,” Gerald said.
“Then how do you make any money?” Joe asked.
Gerald widened his eyes. “Because most people who come here don’t leave with more than they came with. They leave with a lot less.”
“Ah.” He should have realised that.
“Would your young friend be interested in an even higher stakes game? I have a few people who’d likely be keen.”
“Possibly,” Alistair said.
“I won two hundred and ninety-seven thousand pounds,” Joe said. “I don’t need to play again.”
Alistair chortled and Gerald gaped at Joe.
“Where did you find him?” Gerald asked with a laugh.
“That would be telling.” Alistair tapped the side of his nose.
“What’s your trick?” Gerald asked Joe.
“Trick? I don’t have one.”
“He’s rather good at chess too. Want to give him a game?” Alistair asked.
“Not for money,” Joe said. “I’d feel bad.”
“Oh, now I insist.” Gerald’s eyes sparkled. “A thousand pounds. I like a challenge.”
Joe sighed. “Fine.”
Gerald was harder to beat than Alistair but it didn’t take long. As they played, a group gathered around them. Joe made his moves quickly and that seemed to throw his opponent. Then it was done and Gerald handed over the money. Joe put it in his pocket.
“Let me have a go.” A man with silver hair took Gerald’s seat. “Ten thousand for a game. My name’s Gove.”
Joe looked at Alistair who shrugged but he could tell from the set of Alistair’s mouth that he wanted him to play.
Joe nodded at the man and finished his drink, which was lovely.
This guy was skilled but Joe could already see multiple moves ahead.
He set traps. Gove fell into one, then it was just a matter of time.
But unlike Gerald, he was angry and trying not to show it.
“Well done,” he said begrudgingly. He held out a wodge of notes. “Want to play a game of Baccarat?”
“No, thank you. Too much chance, not enough skill.”
Alistair rose to his feet and took the money from Gove’s hand. “Come on, Joe. We’ll go home now.”
Alistair sat back in the cab, dragged his fingers through his hair and laughed. “I’ve not enjoyed myself so much in ages. Did you have a good time?”
“It was interesting.”
“What else can you do, Joe?”
“I don’t know.” He smiled.
“Can you explain how you managed what you did?”
“Once I understand the point of the game, I watch and learn.”
“How many times have you played chess?”
“Nine.”
Alistair gaped at him. “I think you’re near genius level in poker, blackjack and chess. Do you have a photographic memory?”
Joe could guess what that meant. “Probably. And I have a logical brain. I can imagine multiple outcomes in advance.”
“How fast can you read?”
“I’ve never timed myself but very fast.”
“How are you feeling now?”
Joe smiled at him. “Looking forward to seeing Kaden.”
“You’re not thinking—well, if I did that once, I can do it again?”
“I could do it again, but I don’t want to. Kaden doesn’t like gambling. This was a one-off. Well, until all the money’s gone, then I might have another go.”
Alistair laughed. “You’re a one-off.”
When they walked into the house, Kaden came out of the kitchen and pulled Joe into his arms. Joe melted against him. I missed him and he missed me!
“How did it go?” Kaden asked as he let Joe go.
“I think you better sit down,” Alistair said.
Kaden groaned. “Am I going to be working for you for free for the rest of my life?”
Joe laughed.
As they entered the kitchen, Alistair hummed. “What can I smell?”
“The plot thickening. I wrote two chapters of your story for you to read. And I made coq au vin.”
Joe put a thousand pounds in front of him and sat down. “That was for winning at chess with the club manager.”
“Wow,” Kaden said.
“And three hundred and five thousand pounds is now in his bank account,” Alistair added. “I took back my two thousand.”
Kaden’s mouth fell open. “What the…?”
“Did you have no idea of Joe’s ability?” Alistair asked.
“No. He’s very good on the PS4, but I didn’t know he was a genius.”
Joe began to wonder if being a genius was a bad thing. He wasn’t supposed to be standing out. “I need to tell the asylum people I no longer need the support payment. It wouldn’t be fair to take it.”
“We’ll text them,” Kaden said.
Then Joe turned to Alistair. “One of the men playing at the last poker table was cheating. Should I have said something?”
Alistair groaned. “Do you know his name?”
“No, he was sitting to the left of the dealer. In his forties. Short ginger hair. Brown eyes. Glasses. A long nose.”
“How did you know?” Kaden asked.
“His watch. It vibrated really quietly, but I have excellent hearing. I think it was giving him information remotely.”
“I’ll call Gerald and tell him while I take Elsie out for a walk. He’ll look into it and deal with it.”
“I took her out a little while ago,” Kaden said.
“She never says no to a walk.”
Elsie perked up at the last word and Joe smiled as she followed Alistair out of the room.
“I don’t know what to say.” Kaden let out a choked laugh. “Except I’m sorry I doubted you. Wow, Joe. I mean… fucking wow!”
“You don’t mind?”
“Mind? Come here.”
Joe pushed to his feet and walked the couple of steps to where Kaden was standing. Kaden put his arms around him.
“Is it enough money?” Joe whispered. “It feels like enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“For you to want me?”
“Oh God, Joe.” Kaden hugged him tighter, pressing his face into Joe’s shoulder. “I don’t care about money. I want you whether you have money or not. Money’s not important.”
“Shall I give it back?”
Kaden laughed. “No.”
For a long moment they stayed like that, pressed together, the smell of wine and garlic filling the kitchen, the pan on the stove quietly bubbling. It all felt oddly normal considering everything that had just happened. But normal was what Joe wanted.
He broke the silence first because the smell had just changed. “Is the chicken burning?”
Kaden groaned. “Shit.” He gave Joe a quick squeeze and hurried to the stove. He lifted the lid, stirred the pot, and tasted the sauce with a spoon. “Caught it in time.” He turned the heat down.
“Do you think I should’ve said something at the time about the guy cheating?” Joe asked.
“No. I’m glad you didn’t. It could have got unpleasant. You’re sure he cheated, though?”
“Yes. When he made a move I hadn’t expected, I was more certain. Then I had to adjust my game.”
“You remembered all his moves?”
“Of course. His and everyone else’s. All of them in every game.”
“Joe,” Kaden said slowly, “most people struggle just to remember what a single opponent played two moves ago.”
“Oh.” Joe folded his hands together. “I suppose that might explain why everyone kept staring at me.”
Kaden shook his head in disbelief, a smile spreading across his face. “You walked into a high-stakes game and wiped the floor with them.”
“I didn’t wipe the floor,” Joe said automatically, then adjusted to the less literal meaning. “I just made fewer mistakes.”
“Three hundred thousand pounds’ worth fewer?”
“It sounds different when you say it like that. But if the money isn’t important…” Joe looked up carefully. “Why does everyone care about it so much?”
Kaden leaned against the counter. “Because most people think money solves everything, that it makes life easier, safer. Gives you choices.”
“Does it?”
“Yes. Sometimes.” Kaden shrugged. “But it’s not the most important thing in life.”
“What’s that?”
“The people you have around you. Your family and friends. Because that’s what makes you happy. I mean, it’s good to be healthy too. You need good health in order to enjoy life.”
“And a job you like?”
“You didn’t enjoy yours.”
Joe shook his head.
“I suppose it doesn’t have to be a job, but everyone needs a sense of purpose, a reason for living the best life you can while you can.”
Joe hoped he lived as long as Kaden. He didn’t want more. He went over to Kaden and took hold of his hand. He felt very brave. “I want to make you happy. That’s my purpose in life.”
Kaden stroked Joe’s cheek. “If Alistair and Elsie weren’t due back at any moment, and I wasn’t worried about dinner burning, I’d take you upstairs and make us both very happy. Instead, I’ll show you how to use your phone.”
Joe smiled.
By the time Alistair and Elsie came back, the authorities had been notified about Joe’s new address and asked to stop the maintenance payment.
“Ready to eat?” Kaden asked.
“Absolutely,” Alistair said. “Just let me wash my hands.”
Kaden began to plate up the food.
“What did Gerald say?” Joe asked.
“He asked me to thank you. It suggests someone in his backroom was in on it. He’s grateful you didn’t say anything at the time. It gives him the opportunity to look into it.”
“Want a baked potato as well?” Kaden asked.
“Please,” Joe said.
“And me,” Alistair said.
Joe put a forkful in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Delicious. I think cooking might actually be harder than chess.”
“Now that,” Kaden said, pulling out his chair and sitting across from him, “is definitely not true.”
“Do you like English food as much as food from your country?” Alistair asked.
“Hard to say. I do have a soft spot for fish and chips. Very little fish is consumed in Afghanistan. But I like all sorts of food.”
“Especially chocolate,” Kaden said.
Joe laughed.
“What do you plan to do with your money?” Alistair asked.
“Give it to Kaden. Give some to you.”
Kaden almost spat out the food he had in his mouth. “You can’t give it to me!”
“Why not?”
“Is this the burden thing again?” Kaden asked.
Joe nodded.
“You’re not a burden,” Kaden said.
“I don’t want money from either of you,” Alistair added. “I can afford to put you up here for a while.”
“It’s too much money to give away,” Kaden said. “But we can use it as a deposit on a place to live. Look for somewhere together. Maybe a better place than I’d anticipated but we have to show evidence of a regular income and you can’t work yet so it rests on my income for the time being.”
“Is it enough to buy somewhere?” Joe asked.
“It depends where we want to live.”
“It won’t get you much in London,” Alistair pointed out.
“We’ll look tomorrow.”
Joe’s heart ached. A home!