We Saw The Sea by John Winton Read Free Book Online Page A

remembered the play of every trick and was renowned for the occasional psychic bid in which, it was rumoured by the malicious, he received more than earthly assistance. He was a formidable opponent.
    “Forcing Two and Blackwoods, partner?” The Bodger asked pleasantly, as the first hand was dealt.
    “Eh?”
    “Or would you rather play the Vienna Convention?”
    The Bodger glared at Sam Crayshaw who looked concerned until he remembered the coaching The Bodger had given him.
    “That’s O.K. by me, sir,” he said stoutly. “But I’m partial to fourteen points for an opening, if you don’t mind, sir.”
    The Padre picked up his cards and glanced at Goldilocks.
    “Same as usual, partner?”
    “Of course, Padre.”
    The spectators nodded significantly at each other; all agreed that the Padre and Goldilocks had won the first trick of all.
    The cards fell evenly and small scores were made above and below the line by both sides. The Bodger played methodically. Sam Crayshaw went one down, doubled by the Padre. Goldilocks interspersed play with remarks such as “Never send baby to fetch home the beer” when Sam
    Crayshaw trumped too low and “There are more men walking the Embankment because of that” when Sam Crayshaw failed to draw the last trump. The Padre, gauging the mettle of his opponents, brought off a couple of neat finesses and made game.
    On a hand dealt by himself, Goldilocks’s opening bid showed strength. The Padre had support. They bid swiftly to game and finally to a small slam which the Padre made. With one rubber and a small slam behind them, the Padre and Goldilocks were well ahead.
    The Bodger ruefully gathered the cards for the next shuffle while players and spectators relaxed in the bittersweet chatter after a bridge hand. Suddenly, The Bodger’s voice cut across the hum of voices.
    “I say,” he said, in a puzzled voice, holding up an ace and examining it, “I’m sure these cards are marked! “
    Grimly, the Purser made his way across the hushed room. He took a card to the daylight and looked along its edge. He went back to the table, picked up another card and ran a finger over the surface.
    “Yes,” he said reluctantly, as though acknowledging a tragic fact, “they’re marked all right. All the picture cards are nicked. What was the score on this hand?”
    “Small slam,” said Sam Crayshaw.
    “Who dealt it?”
    “I did,” said Goldilocks.
    The Bodger quietly put his cards back on the table. He looked Goldilocks full in the eye and, white-lipped, walked away. The rest of the Navy team, as though taking a cue, followed him. The Wing Commander leading the R.A.F. team went red in the face and then nodded to his team.
    The Padre’s cloth prevented actual physical violence but there was no question of abandoning the Pentathlon. Each service was determined to continue, under martial law.
    The news of the marked cards travelled and a huge crowd watched the teams prepare for the Tug-of-War. (The ship’s officers were also there; they had not had such amusement from the passengers since the Balinese rugby football team attempted to seduce the ship’s nurses, all together and to the beat of gongs and drums.)
    The crowd had come to see fair play and the spectre of the lynching post hung over the Army team as the Purser inspected their rope for anchors and their boots for spikes. When the Purser was satisfied, the Army beat the Navy and the R.A.F. comfortably in straight pulls.
    Another large crowd assembled for the fourth contest, the Liar Dice, because The Bodger was the acknowledged maestro and there were few who could resist seeing a master in play. The Bodger and Goldilocks were again opposing each other and the crowd stood three deep behind them.
    The first four rounds of the dice established that The Bodger was sadly out of form. His subterfuges were easily penetrated and he seemed unable to throw higher than nine or ten. After six rounds The Bodger had been penalized twice and the