"Bingo!"

Seymour’s arm, the same one that had given him gip all through the night was now doing its best to touch the ceiling. There was a scrape of metal chairs as weak-bladdered ladies scuttled for the loos. The girl with the pierced nose checked his card. He took his glasses off and adjusted the tape around the plastic bridge, partly to keep his hands from shaking, but mostly to avoid the withering stares of the three grey-haired sisters opposite.

"We have a winner!" echoed the voice on the tannoy. "£216 to the gentlemen in the corner." Seymour had never won anything before. He felt almost dizzy. But he snapped to as the middle sister grunted; the stale coffee and Kendal mint cake on her breath acting like smelling salts.

When he called “Bingo” for the second time, all three sisters froze – markers poised in the air like daggers. He caught another whiff of mint as the middle sister fixed him with milky cataracts.

“£225!” shouted the caller, “Second win in a row. That’s either beginner’s luck or that’s three, very lucky mascots you’ve got there.” Everyone looked at the three sisters and tittered.

Seymour had one card left, but the atmosphere on his table was getting frosty. He stood to leave. That’s when mint-breath reached across and grabbed his card. “Well, if you’re going..." She pushed her strip of five towards him. "Fair swap."

Seymour sat open-mouthed. The game had started; the woman was marking numbers off already – on his card! All thoughts of leaving had evaporated. That was until he felt the gentle tug on his sleeve.

*

Seymour stuffed the money into the larger of the envelopes and stepped out into the bright lights of the foyer. In a few minutes, people would be spilling out from the main hall - a rolling wash of grey and pastel to sweep into the night. But it was quiet now.

He followed the boy down the steps. The girl with the mismatched shoes was still there. He dropped the envelope into her lap.

“They won’t win you know,” the boy said, brushing a curl of white hair from his eyes.

Seymour sighed and stared at the budding stars overhead. “It’s okay. Honest. Let them win.”

“Very well.”

“And thank you. This has been... well, I didn’t think it would be like this.”

“You’ve been a good man,” said the boy walking on. “It’s not like this for everyone.”

“Will…will it hurt?”

“It’s already done. Look.”

Seymour turned to see the homeless girl stooped over a body lying awkwardly on the steps. She was trying to give the man the kiss of life. Seymour couldn’t see his face. But then he didn’t need to.

With the lights of the ambulance drawing near, Seymour followed the boy into the night.

“I suppose you must get some unusual last requests?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” said the boy. “Just this morning, this woman - never had a boyfriend in her life, mind…”