They Thought I Was Dead: Sandy’s Story

12 Spring 2007 — Looking back

A charming guy of about thirty came into the medical practice. He had grey eyes, shiny hair and a really calm aura. He walked up to me with a confident smile.

‘Hi, I’ve an appointment with Dr Mair.’ He locked eyes with mine.

I couldn’t help smiling back. Not that I was looking to get his approval. But. You know, he had a presence about him, and I liked it.

His name was Jay Strong. He asked me if I lived locally and did I have a few spare minutes to tell him about Brighton; he was looking to buy a flat with his husband, and he wanted to know where the good areas were and where to avoid — from a local, not an estate agent. He told me he worked as a croupier at a posh gaming club in London, in Mayfair, where the clientele were mostly rich Middle Eastern visitors to the city. He didn’t know anyone here and, to be honest, he seemed a little lost. Well, that got my interest! I knew I could help him with some local knowledge, and I love nosing around streets looking at houses. I hesitated just for a moment, checking in with myself. ‘Sorry, no. I can’t tell you about Brighton,’ I said. ‘But I can show you!’

We arranged a time to meet, obviously outside of my work hours and, although I knew he was gay, I still felt a little guilty. I’d definitely tell Roy about him later so nothing to stress about, though he’d probably be a bit jealous if he saw him and wonder why I’d said yes. But this random, some might say fateful, connection was too good to be true and I was excited to learn more about this world where I was destined to be successful. For now, though, it was my exciting secret. My new career.

And for the next two months, Jay made up for the something that was missing. This friendship — and the attention — that I realized I craved. He was like a ‘brother from another mother’, I’d say, the sibling I never had. To outsiders we may have looked like a couple, but I was careful where we met and always had an alibi lined up. Learned that from the best! I wholly believed that Jay and his husband, who I’d not met, would be people I could eventually introduce Roy to once I’d won big. How could Roy not like them after Jay showed me how to make us thousands of pounds?

What Jay didn’t know about gambling wasn’t worth knowing and I lapped it up, learning about this new world and finding a way to bring in some well-earned money. A tip he gave me, on the promise I would keep it to myself, was how to win in a casino.

‘Look for a bored croupier at a roulette wheel,’ he said. Simple as that.

He explained that most casinos require the croupier to spin the wheel every few minutes, regardless of whether they have punters at the table or not. The ones that don’t have anyone at the table, or just a solitary punter, relieve their boredom by aiming for a target — and the easiest target is zero because it stands out from the alternate red and black by being green. And it has the added bonus of being the casino’s advantage. Anyone can bet on zero, but most punters don’t. The croupiers practise their spin of the wheel and toss of the ball, seeing how close they can get that little ball to that green slot.

Jay told me to find a quiet table and a bored croupier, and lay my bets around the numbers either side of zero. He said that’s what he does when he goes gambling himself — and he almost always wins.

I discovered there’s a casino in Hove, close to where we live, called the Casino d’Azur and I tried out his advice the very next day. I was made to feel instantly welcomed there. The atmosphere was exciting, with chandeliers hung from high ceilings, all the different gaming tables, the cashier behind a barred window, the smart serving staff. It felt a privilege to be there, although in reality just about anyone could walk in off the streets, buy some chips and start gambling.

I imagined myself in a Bond movie, but as I walked into the main gaming room, instead of glamorous people in tuxedos and elegant dresses sipping Martinis, I saw a couple of little old ladies perched at slot machines, a solitary Chinese man in a rather tired-looking suit placing chips at one of the three roulette wheels, and two men in jeans and T-shirts at a blackjack table.

Only one of the two other roulette wheels had a croupier, and just like Jay had said, he was spinning the wheel at his empty table. I wandered over, with £50 in chips. And guess what?

Jay’s advice won me a shitload of money!

That first afternoon, anyway.

Beginner’s luck?