The early levels
Twenty-five minutes a level, a single stroke of the small bell between each. The first hour belonged to a retired grain handler, who played every hand with the patience of a man waiting for a ship. He was out before the interval, sat at the rail with his tea and gave a running commentary that was mostly generous and sometimes accurate.
The interval
Twenty minutes, with scones, jam and cream in the front hall. Oliver Georgiou cleaned the felt while the players stretched their legs, and Lucy Duncan sent out a second tray when the first disappeared. Most of the conversation concerned a single hand, played at the second table, which three people remembered differently.
The final table
Six players moved under the brass lamp, and the room settled. A young schoolteacher who had never played before found herself heads up against a skipper from the fishing fleet, and both were calm to the end. She won on the last card, with a pair of sevens, and said she had not expected to survive the first level.
The board
Her name went up on the board in the entrance hall, in Felicity's careful hand, with the title Champion of the evening. There was no prize, no certificate and no cup. The room applauded, tea was poured, and the champion was asked to say a few words, which she did, thanking the dealers and her mother, who had taught her the hands.