Auntie Vera switched on the TV one afternoon and flicked through the channels hoping that she would find a nice film to watch. Unfortunately, the cultural outpouring from the nation's broadcasters appeared to consist solely of cheaply made soap operas featuring casts made up of people with infeasibly white teeth and American accents, or banal talk shows involving smug looking couples interviewing barely clad, heavily tattooed teenagers. The only other thing on the TV was horse racing from Epsom.
Bored out of her mind, and having nothing else to do, Auntie Vera settled down to watch the horse racing. The races themselves weren't very interesting and appeared to consist of a number of small men riding horses around a large field, but what was of interest was the betting. And Auntie Vera who knew nothing about the sport of kings but had been quite good at maths when she was at school started to become absorbed in the odds and percentages. It seemed strange to her that two horses which looked very much like one another should have such wide variations in the odds quoted on them winning the race. She figured that if there were ten races, each with ten horses in them and she bet one pound in each race on a horse with odds higher than ten to one, then statistically she must win. In order to test out this theory she found a piece of paper to record her bets and placed an imaginary pound on a horse running in the next race at odds of twelve to one.
Unsurprisingly the horse lost, but Auntie Vera was not deterred as she knew that she had a further nine attempts in which to win.
The next race had fourteen horses in it which made the maths a bit more complicated. She would need to bet on a horse with odds greater than fourteen to one, but if it won then the winnings would throw her calculations out so she would have to bet either less money on higher odds or the same amount of money on a horse with better odds. It was all more complicated than she had first thought, and in the end she decided to bet a notional 87p on a horse at sixteen to one and work out the maths in more detail later.
That horse lost as well.
But undeterred she continued on the next race.
By the end of the days racing she had lost an imaginary eight pounds, fifty seven pence and was feeling quite cross with herself, as according to her calculations she should have been at least three quid up. There was obviously something in this horse racing lark that she was missing.
The man on the television who had been presenting the programme then announced that the six way accumulator had winnings of over eight thousand pounds for a one pound bet. This seemed astounding! Auntie Vera had spent all afternoon trying to win three pounds and actually losing over eight when there was a way to win eight thousand or only lose one. She was sure that she hadn't seen a horse with odds of over eight thousand to one racing that day, and she wondered what a six way accumulator was. It sounded like something electrical. In order to find out, she decided that the following morning she would go to a betting shop and ask someone to explain it to her.
Thus it was that the following day Auntie Vera took the bus into town and located the premises of Brookfield's Bookmakers in the town centre.
Upon entering she was surprised to find that the only other person there apart from herself was a pasty faced woman sitting behind a glass screen at the far end of the shop. Auntie Vera walked up to her.
"I'd like a six way accumulator please" she said proffering a pound coin.
"Where's your slip?" asked the woman behind the screen with the air of someone who has just started an eight hour shift in a large poorly ventilated box with no sunlight and wishes that they hadn't.
The woman's response threw Auntie Vera somewhat. She had come there to buy an accumulator - something that she thought would be a simple transaction, and the woman behind the counter was asking her where her underwear was!
"I'm sorry" she said.
"Your slip. I need your slip."
"I'm not sure that it would fit you dear."
"What?"
Vera thinking that the poor woman must be slightly deaf raised her voice.
"IT WOULDN'T FIT YOU DEAR" she bellowed.
"There's no need to shout" The woman snapped back. "But if you don't give me your slip I can't place your bet"
"Look, I just want to buy an accumulator. I've got the money. Why do you need my underwear?"
"Underwear! What are you talking about?"
"Well you started it!"
The woman stared at Vera for a moment. She really didn't need this. She closed her eyes and was disappointed to find that Auntie Vera was still stood before her when she opened them again.
"Do you know what an accumulator is?" she asked wearily.
"Well no, not really. That's what I came here to find out."
The woman explained to Auntie Vera that a six way accumulator was a bet where you gambled on six different races. You wrote on a betting slip - which it turned out was actually just a piece of paper - The names of the horses and the times and places of the races that they were running in. You then handed the betting slip together with as much money as you wanted to bet over to the staff at the betting shop. If the first horse that you had selected won the first race, the winnings would be put onto the second horse that you had selected for the second race and so on until all six races had finished, and if you had picked all six winners you won a whole bunch of cash. Auntie Vera made copious notes on a pad that she had brought wth her, and once it had been explained to her for the third time it all seemed relatively straight forward. The woman also helpfully pointed out that the names of the horses, the races that they were running in and the odds offered on them were all displayed on television monitors on the walls. There were also newspapers and magazines that carried tips on which horse was most likely to win each race. Auntie Vera with her knowledge of fractions and multiplication thought that this was going to be a breeze. She sat down and started to work out the best way to win eight thousand pounds. Unfortunately, she could not get the combination of odds exactly right to finish at a figure of eight thousand. The nearest she could come to it was eight thousand and sixty four, but as this was a bonus of sixty four pounds she thought that it would do. She carefully checked her calculations once more and then checked the odds shown for each of her six horses. To her disgust she saw that the odds on one of them had changed from eight to one to seven to one while she had been doing her sums. This threw all of her calculations out, so she started to work it all out again. Eventually she was satisfied that she had got everything as it should be and she approached the counter once more.
"There you are dear" she said as she handed over a finely detailed betting slip and a pound coin. "I think that you will find that it's all in order."
The woman glanced briefly at the betting slip. "I can't take this" she said
"Why not?" said Vera. "I've checked all of the spelling and the sums."
"It's not that" said the woman "It's that your first race is the 12.15 at Newmarket and it's already half past. It finished a couple of minutes ago."
"Really! Who won?"
"It doesn't matter who won. The point is, you can't bet on a race after it's finished." The woman glanced once more at the slip. "Anyway, it wasn't yours" she said, and passed the slip and Vera's pound coin back to her.
Vera took the coin and put it back in her purse. This horse racing thing wasn't working out at all how she had envisioned it. so she bought an iced bun from the bakers opposite the betting shop to cheer herself up and headed for the bus stop.
A few days later she was in the pensioner's say centre and mentioned to Dolly Lovegrove what had happened. As it turned out this was perhaps not the smartest of things to do. Dolly had spent the whole of her life collecting vices and betting on the nags was one of them.
"Oh" sighed Dolly with a faraway look in her eye. "I've spent many happy days on the turf. You can't bet in one of those poky little shops, you've got to actually go to the races to do it properly."
Dolly explained that in order to win at the races you had to judge the horses themselves before they started running. That way you could see the muscles and flesh of the horses and judge how fast they would go. As it was well known that Dolly had had more than her fair share of flesh and muscle in the past it made sense that she would know what she was talking about.
"It's not just that" she said "It's a social occasion as well. You would love it. Why don't we get a trip organised to the races one day?"
This seemed to be a splendid idea. Not only would it be a day out, but Auntie Vera could combine her betting theories with Dolly's knowledge of horse anatomy and together they might make a little bit of money.
A week or so later Dolly announced that she had secured the services of a gentleman of her acquaintance who owned a car and was willing to transport Auntie Vera and herself to the races the following weekend provided that they both chipped in something to cover the cost of the petrol. This seemed quite reasonable and Auntie Vera agreed at once.
To be continued............