Men were like that, she told herself. They liked cheap-looking girls that laughed too easily, too loud.
He probably didn’t even notice her hideous rouged lips.
But then again, he probably hadn’t given her anything either.
The next morning the blonde was gone. Mr Lambert was having coffee and reading the paper, lingering over his breakfast tray when Eva knocked.
‘Good morning, sir,’ she said brightly.
He turned over another page. ‘Good morning.’
Silence stretched out before them.
‘I . . . I wanted to thank you for the playing cards, sir.’
‘You’re welcome.’
She hovered behind his chair.
‘It was very nice of you,’ she added.
Mr Lambert took a sip of his coffee. ‘I’m a nice man, the nicest you’ll ever meet. Also, I need more lavatory paper.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She stood stupidly, unsure of what to do next. She wanted him to talk to her more, the way he had the other day, but she didn’t know how to start the conversation.
‘Besides,’ he folded his paper, put it down, ‘I thought you said cards were a bad idea. Root of all evil. I’m surprised you kept them.’
‘Well, I . . .’ She was suddenly wrong-footed. ‘Why did you give them to me if you didn’t think I should have them?’
He shrugged, lit a cigarette. ‘Innocence, like virginity, is more fun to lose than to keep.’
‘Both are quite expensive, sir.’
‘Well!’ he laughed. ‘Aren’t you full of clever observations? Have you played at all?’
‘Only by myself.’
He exhaled, forcing a stream of smoke through his nose like a bull. ‘That’s not going to get you anywhere. Sit down.’
Tucking his cigarette into the corner of his mouth, he took a deck of cards from his jacket pocket and began to shuffle. ‘I’m going to teach you a game called Twenty-one.’
She watched in fascination as the cards flashed between his fingers. She’d never met anyone who carried a deck of cards with them everywhere.
Except herself, she realized, with a flush of excitement.
‘Is it a good game?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, is it a gambling game?’
‘Now there’s a question. Let’s see – you can place a bet on whether it’s going to rain tomorrow or not. If you’re inclined to gamble, everything’s a gambling game. But the definition of gambling means taking a chance. Now, if I’m right about you, your talent for numbers means that chance, or risk, is considerably reduced. So in fact, you’re not gambling at all. You’re simply proceeding with what you believe to be true, which is like faith, really – the spiritual dimension of this exercise is one we’ll touch on another time.’
‘Will we?’
‘Don’t interrupt. So you see, you can play the same game I do. However, I can be gambling because I know very little and therefore am taking a huge risk – this is hypothetical, of course. I want to stress to you that I’m extremely proficient in what I do . . .’
‘And what is that, sir?’
‘I am a connoisseur of chance, a pioneer of probability, little girl. And, as I was saying, I can be gambling because I know only a little. You, on the other hand, with your unique gift, can be simply playing out a rather complicated equation whose conclusion only you can see. So, “no” and “yes” and “sometimes” are the answers to your question.’ He had done dealing. ‘Here are the rules. We’re playing with one deck for the purpose of this demonstration but normally it’s six. I want to break you in slowly.’
She stared at his handsome face. ‘Why are you showing me this?’
He looked up at her as if it were obvious. ‘Some day it will be useful to you. And remember what I said, it’s only a gamble if you don’t know what you’re doing.’
So Mr Lambert taught her how to play Twenty-one. The next day he schooled her in the rudiments of poker. And she was frighteningly, thrillingly quick to learn. There was a disarming calm about her; she simply proceeded, first to learn the games, then to beat him. Hand after hand, with no sign of nerves.
It was easy for her; she knew what was going to happen.
Eva had never been clever at anything. And she wanted to please Mr Lambert.
She focused on the cards he discarded, the number of cards played; holding the facts to one side in her brain. She seemed to see in her mind’s eye all the various possibilities and combinations of scenarios at once. Then another card was played and they narrowed. Before long she could see pretty much the whole game in her head and then it was only a matter of what order cards were being played rather than what they would be. And when this happened, Mr Lambert became excited. His eyes lit up and he regarded her as if she were delightful and amazing.