Loser Takes All

  ‘Oh, we can manage tonight.’

  ‘We might win enough at the Casino.’

  ‘We’ll stick to the cheap room. We can’t afford to risk much.’

  I think we lost about two thousand francs that night and in the morning and in the afternoon we looked down at the harbour and the Seagull wasn’t there. ‘He has forgotten,’ Cary said. ‘He’d have telegraphed otherwise.’ I knew she was right, and I didn’t know what to do, and when the next day came I knew even less.

  ‘Darling,’ Cary said, ‘we’d better go while we can still pay,’ but I had secretly asked for the bill (on the excuse that we didn’t want to play beyond our resources), and I knew that already we had insufficient. There was nothing to do but wait. I telegraphed to Miss Bullen and she replied that Mr Dreuther was at sea and out of touch. I was reading the telegram out to Cary as the old man with the ear-appliance sat on a chair at the top of the steps, watching the people go by in the late afternoon sun.

  He asked suddenly, ‘Do you know Dreuther?’

  I said, ‘Well, Mr Dreuther is my employer.’

  ‘You think he is,’ he said sharply. ‘You are in Sitra, are you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then I’m your employer, young man. Don’t you put your faith in Dreuther.’

  ‘You are Mr Bowles?’

  ‘Of course I’m Mr Bowles. Go and find my nurse. It’s time we went to the tables.’

  When we were alone again, Cary asked, ‘Who was that horrible old man? Is he really your employer?’

  ‘In a way. In the firm we call him A. N. Other. He owns a few shares in Sitra – only a few, but they hold the balance between Dreuther and Blixon. As long as he supports Dreuther, Blixon can do nothing, but if Blixon ever managed to buy the shares, I’d be sorry for the Gom. A way of speaking,’ I added. ‘Nothing could make me sorry for him now.’

  ‘He’s only forgetful, darling.’

  ‘Forgetfulness like that only comes when you don’t care a damn about other people. None of us has a right to forget anyone. Except ourselves. The Gom never forgets himself. Oh hell, let’s go to the Casino.’

  ‘We can’t afford to.’

  ‘We are so in debt we may as well.’

  That night we didn’t bet much: we stood there and watched the veterans. The young man was back in the cuisine. I saw him change a thousand francs into tokens of a hundred, and presently when he’d lost those, he went out – no coffee or rolls for him that evening. Cary said, ‘Do you think he’ll go hungry to bed?’

  ‘We all will,’ I said, ‘if the Seagull doesn’t come.’

  I watched them playing their systems, losing a little, gaining a little, and I thought it was strange how the belief persisted – that somehow you could beat the bank. They were like theologians, patiently trying to rationalize a mystery. I suppose in all lives a moment comes when we wonder – suppose after all there is a God, suppose the theologians are right. Pascal was a gambler, who staked his money on a divine system. I thought, I am a far better mathematician than any of these – is that why I don’t believe in their mystery, and yet if this mystery exists, isn’t it possible that I might solve it where they have failed? It was almost like a prayer when I thought: it’s not for the sake of money – I don’t want a fortune – just a few days with Cary free from anxiety.

  Of all the systems round the table there was only one that really worked, and that did not depend on the so-called law of chance. A middle-aged woman with a big bird’s nest of false blonde hair and two gold teeth lingered around the most crowded table. If anybody made a coup she went up to him and touching his elbow appealed quite brazenly – so long as the croupier was looking elsewhere – for one of his 200-franc chips. Perhaps charity, like a hunched back, is considered lucky. When she received a chip she would change it for two one-hundred-franc tokens, put one in her pocket and stake the other en plein. She couldn’t lose her hundreds, and one day she stood to gain 3,500 francs. Most nights she must have left the table a thousand francs to the good from what she had in her pocket.

  ‘Did you see her?’ Cary asked as we walked to the bar for a cup of coffee – we had given up the gins and Dubonnets. ‘Why shouldn’t I do that too?’

  ‘We haven’t come to that.’

  ‘I’ve made a decision,’ Cary said. ‘No more meals at the hotel.’

  ‘Do we starve?’

  ‘We have coffee and rolls at a café instead – or perhaps milk – its more nourishing.’

  I said sadly, ‘It’s not the honeymoon I’d intended. Bournemouth would have been better.’

  ‘Don’t fret, darling. Everything will be all right when the Seagull comes.’

  ‘I don’t believe in the Seagull any more.’

  ‘Then what do we do when the fortnight’s over?’

  ‘Go to gaol, I should think. Perhaps the prison is run by the Casino and we shall have recreation hours round a roulette wheel.’

  ‘Couldn’t you borrow from the Other?’

  ‘Bowles? He’s never lent without security in his life. He’s sharper than Dreuther and Blixon put together – otherwise they’d have had his shares years ago.’

  ‘But there must be something we can do, darling?’

  ‘Madam, there is.’ I looked up from my cooling coffee and saw a small man in frayed and dapper clothes with co-respondent shoes. His nose seemed bigger than the rest of his face: the experience of a lifetime had swollen the veins and bleared the eyes. He carried jauntily under his arm a walking stick that had lost its ferrule, with a duck’s head for a handle. He said with blurred courtesy, ‘I think I am unpardonably intruding, but you have had ill-success at the tables and I carry with me good tidings, sir and madam.’

  ‘Well,’ Cary said, ‘we were just going . . .’ She told me later that his use of a biblical phrase gave her a touch of shivers, of diablerie – the devil at his old game of quoting scripture.

  ‘It is better for you to stay, for I have shut in my mind here a perfect system. That system I am prepared to let you have for a mere ten thousand francs.’

  ‘You are asking the earth.’ I said. ‘We haven’t got that much.’

  ‘But you are staying at the Hôtel de Paris. I have seen you.’

  ‘It’s a matter of currency,’ Cary said quickly. ‘You know how it is with the English.’

  ‘One thousand francs.’

  ‘No,’ Cary said, ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘I tell you what I’ll do,’ I said, ‘I’ll stand you a drink for it.’

  ‘Whisky,’ the little man replied sharply. I realized too late that whisky cost 500 francs. He sat down at the table with his stick between his knees so that the duck seemed to be sharing his drink. I said, ‘Go on.’

  ‘It is a very small whisky.’

  ‘You won’t get another.’

  ‘It is very simple,’ the little man said, ‘like all great mathematical discoveries. You bet first on one number and when your number wins you stake your gains on the correct transversal of six numbers. The correct transversal on one is 31 to 36; on two 13 to 18; on three . . .’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You can take it that I am right. I have studied very carefully here for many years. For five hundred francs I will sell you a list of all the winning numbers which came up last June.’

  ‘But suppose the number doesn’t come up?’

  ‘You wait to start the system until it does.’

  ‘It might take years.’

  The little man got up, bowed and said, ‘That is why one must have capital. I had too little capital. If instead of five million I had possessed ten million I would not be selling you my system for a glass of whisky.’

  He retired with dignity, the ferruleless stick padding on the polished floor, the duck staring back at us as though it wanted to stay.

  ‘I think my system’s better,’ Cary said. ‘If that woman can get away with it, I can . . .’

  ‘It’s begging. I don’t like my wife to beg.’

  ‘I?
??m only a new wife. And I don’t count it begging – it’s not money, only tokens.’

  ‘You know there was something that man said which made me think. It’s a pure matter of reducing what one loses and increasing what one gains.’

  ‘Yes, darling. But in my system I don’t lose anything.’

  She was away for nearly half an hour and then she came back almost at a run. ‘Darling, put away your doodles. I want to go home.’

  ‘They aren’t doodles. I’m working out an idea.’

  ‘Darling, please come at once or I’m going to cry.’

  When we were outside she dragged me up through the gardens, between the floodlit palm trees and the flower-beds like sugar sweets. She said, ‘Darling, it was a terrible failure.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I did exactly what that woman did. I waited till someone won a lot of money and then I sort of nudged his elbow and said, “Give.” But he didn’t give, he said quite sharply, “Go home to your mother,” and the croupier looked up. So I went to another table. And the man there just said, “Later. Later. On the terrace.” Darling, he thought I was a tart. And when I tried a third time – oh, it was terrible. One of those attendants who light people’s cigarettes touched me on my arm and said, “I think Mademoiselle has played enough for tonight.” Calling be Mademoiselle made it worse. I wanted to fling my marriage lines in his face, but I’d left them in the bathroom at the hotel.’

  ‘In the bathroom?’

  ‘Yes, in my sponge bag, darling, because for some reason I never lose my sponge bag – I’ve had it for years and years. But that’s not why I want to cry. Darling, please let’s sit down on this seat. I can’t cry walking about – it’s like eating chocolate in the open air. You get so out of breath you can’t taste the chocolate.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake.’ I said, ‘If that’s not the worst let me know the worst. Do you realize we shall never be able to go into the Casino again – just when I’ve started on a system, a real system.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not as bad as that, darling. The attendant gave me such a nice wink at the door. I know he won’t mind my going back – but I never want to go back, never.’

  ‘I wish you’d tell me.’

  ‘That nice young man saw it all.’

  ‘What young man?’

  ‘The hungry young man. And when I went out into the hall he followed me and said very sweetly, “Madame, I can only spare a token of one hundred francs, but it is yours.” ’

  ‘You didn’t take it?’

  ‘Yes – I couldn’t refuse it. He was so polite, and he was gone before I had time to thank him for it. And I changed it and used the francs in the slot machines at the entrance and I’m sorry I’m howling like this, but I simply can’t help it, he was so terribly courteous, and he must be so terribly hungry and he’s got a mind above money or he wouldn’t have lent me a hundred francs, and when I’d won five hundred I looked for him to give him half and he’d gone.’

  ‘You won five hundred? It’ll pay for our coffee and rolls tomorrow.’

  ‘Darling, you are so sordid. Don’t you see that for ever after he’ll think I was one of those old harpies like Bird’s Nest in there?’

  ‘I expect he was only making a pass.’

  ‘You are so sexual. He was doing nothing of the kind. He’s much too hungry to make a pass.’

  ‘They say starvation sharpens the passions.’

  9

  WE still had breakfast at the hotel in order to keep up appearances, but we found ourselves wilting even before the liftman. I have never liked uniforms – they remind me that there are those who command and those who are commanded – and now I was convinced that everybody in uniform knew that we couldn’t pay the bill. We always kept our key with us, so that we might never have to go to the desk, and as we had changed all our travellers’ cheques on our arrival, we didn’t even have to approach the accountant. Cary had found a small bar called the Taxi Bar at the foot of one of the great staircases, and there we invariably ate our invariable lunch and our dinner. It was years before I wanted to eat rolls again and even now I always drink tea instead of coffee. Then, on our third lunch-time, coming out of the bar we ran into the assistant receptionist from the hotel who was passing along the street. He bowed and went by, but I knew that our hour had struck.

  We sat in the gardens afterwards in the early evening sun and I worked hard on my system, for I felt as though I were working against time. I said to Cary, ‘Give me a thousand francs. I’ve got to check up.’

  ‘But, darling,’ she said, ‘do you realize we’ve only got five thousand left. Soon we shan’t have anything even for rolls.’

  ‘Thank God for that. I can’t bear the sight of a roll.’

  ‘Then let’s change to ices instead. They don’t cost any more. And, think, we can change our diet, darling. Coffee ices for lunch, strawberry ices for dinner. Darling, I’m longing for dinner.’

  ‘If my system is finished in time, we’ll have steaks . . .’

  I took the thousand and went into the cuisine. Paper in hand I watched the table carefully for a quarter of an hour before betting and then quite quietly and steadily I lost, but when I had no more tokens to play my numbers came up in just the right order. I went out again to Cary. I said. ‘The devil was right. It’s a question of capital.’

  She said sadly, ‘You are getting like all the others.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You think numbers, you dream numbers. You wake up in the night and say “Zéro deux”. You write on bits of paper at meals.’

  ‘Do you call them meals?’

  ‘There are four thousand francs in my bag and they’ve got to last us till the Seagull comes. We aren’t going to gamble any more. I don’t believe in your system. A week ago you said you couldn’t beat the bank.’

  ‘I hadn’t studied . . .’

  ‘That’s what the devil said – he’d studied. You’ll be selling your system soon for a glass of whisky.’

  She got up and walked back to the hotel and I didn’t follow. I thought, a wife ought to believe in her husband to the bitter end and we hadn’t been married a week; and then after a while I began to see her point of view. For the last few days I hadn’t been much company, and what a life it had been – afraid to meet the porter’s eye, and that was exactly what I met as I came into the hotel.

  He blocked my way and said, ‘The manager’s compliments, sir, and could you spare him a few moments. In his room.’ I thought: they can’t send her to prison too, only me, and I thought: the Gom, that egotistical bastard on the eighth floor who has let us in for all this because he’s too great to remember his promises. He makes the world and then he goes and rests on the seventh day and his creation can go to pot that day for all he cares. If only for one moment I could have had him in my power – if he could have depended on my remembering him, but it was as if I was doomed to be an idea of his, he would never be an idea of mine.

  ‘Sit down, Mr Bertram,’ the manager said. He pushed a cigarette box across to me. ‘Smoke?’ He had the politeness of a man who has executed many people in his time.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said.

  ‘The weather has not been quite so warm as one would expect at this time of year.’

  ‘Oh, better than England, you know.’

  ‘I do hope you are enjoying your stay.’ This, I supposed, was the routine – just to show there was no ill-feeling – one has one’s duty. I wished he would come to an end.

  ‘Very much, thank you.’

  ‘And your wife too?’

  ‘Oh yes. Yes.’

  He paused, and I thought: now it comes. He said, ‘By the way, Mr Bertram, I think this is your first visit?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We rather pride ourselves here on our cooking. I don’t think you will find better food in Europe.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right.’

  ‘I don’t want to be intrusive, Mr Bertram, please forgive me if I am, but
we have noticed that you don’t seem to care for our restaurant, and we are very anxious that you and your wife should be happy here in Monte Carlo. Any complaint you might have – the service, the wine . . . ?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve no complaint. No complaint at all.’

  ‘I didn’t think you would have, Mr Bertram. I have great confidence in our service here. I came to the conclusion – you will forgive me if I’m intrusive –’

  ‘Yes. Oh yes.’

  ‘I know that our English clients often have trouble over currency. A little bad luck at the tables can so easily upset their arrangements in these days.’

  ‘Yes. I suppose so.’

  ‘So it occurred to me, Mr Bertram, that perhaps – how shall I put it – you might be, as it were, a little – you will forgive me, won’t you – well, short of funds?’

  My mouth felt very dry now that the moment had come. I couldn’t find the bold frank words I wanted to use. I said, ‘Well,’ and goggled across the desk. There was a portrait of the Prince of Monaco on the wall and a huge ornate inkstand on the desk and I could hear the train going by to Italy. It was like a last look at freedom.

  The manager said, ‘You realize that the Administration of the Casino and of this hotel are most anxious – really most anxious – you realize we are in a very special position here, Mr Bertram, we are not perhaps’ – he smiled at his fingernails – ‘quite ordinary hôteliers. We have had clients here whom we have looked after for – well, thirty years’ – he was incredibly slow at delivering his sentence. ‘We like to think of them as friends rather than clients. You know here in the Principality we have a great tradition – well, of discretion, Mr Bertram. We don’t publish names of our guests. We are the repository of many confidences.’

  I couldn’t bear the man’s rigmarole any more. It had become less like an execution than like the Chinese water-torture. I said, ‘We are quite broke – there’s a confidence for you.’

  He smiled again at his nails. ‘That was what I suspected, Mr Bertram, and so I hope you will accept a small loan. For a friend of Mr Dreuther. Mr Dreuther is a very old client of ours and we should be most distressed if any friend of his failed to enjoy his stay with us.’ He stood up, bowed and presented me with an envelope – I felt like a child receiving a good-conduct prize from a bishop. Then he led me to the door and said in a low confidential voice, ‘Try our Château Gruaud Larose 1934: you will not be disappointed.’