A Fool and his money

By Ray

"Crack open a bottle of Champagne Eddie," I shouted, "A tidy little pony called Tara has just netted me five hundred quid."

Eddie, the proprietor of 'The last stop caf' poured me a cup of tea. "Congratulations Sam, I guess now you'll be leaving your bed-sit and moving to the Riviera."

He turned to serve another customer leaving me in the company of an old gentleman who had taken the seat next to mine. He removed his coat and placed it behind the chair. "How very exciting," he said, "I'm not averse to a little flutter. In fact, I've had a little luck myself recently."

I didn't want to hear about this old croaks bingo winnings and so I just smiled and finished my tea. He must have got the message because he was gone before I could taste the tea leaves."

Eddie, this Champagne is warm," I teased.

"Very funny Sam. Say, that old geezer's left his coat."

"I'll go catch him," I said, grabbing the coat and leaving the caf.

I saw the old gent walking north up King Street and so I turned south.

I made my way to the 'Pig and whistle' public house, ordered a beer and sat by the window to look over my booty. The coat was worthless and was soon abandoned but I kept hold of his wallet. It held a business card, a donor card, a twenty-pound note and a betting slip dated the third, which was yesterday. The business card and the donor card bore the name Burrows so it was a safe bet that this was the old gents name. It was the betting slip that interested me because it was so unusual to see a four-horse accumulator. That is to say that Mr. Burrows had placed a bet of ten pounds that four horses would win consecutively. If one horse failed then he would lose all his money, but if they all won then the winnings from the first race would be placed on the second race and so on. I was amazed to find that all four horses had won yesterday. The old gentleman was in for one thousand pounds and some change.

Under ordinary circumstances I could have walked into the betting shop and collected. This slip, however, was from an independent bookmaker. It was signed and date stamped by Frank Bradley. I knew of Frank. He was a small time operator and an honest character. He would have certainly remembered Mr. Burrows because of the unusual bet and only paid out to him. I pocketed the twenty and put the wallet, with the betting slip, in my coat. I would sleep on the matter.