This was the ultimate self-restraint by both East and West. He remembered how his first inclination had been to bid 7NT when he heard his partner reverse with 2
, but he had controlled himself. His 4
established clubs as trumps - and how clever of Mrs Stout to realise that only top honours in spades and clubs were of interest and to bid 5, thereby denying a spade honour! North had led the obvious trump, he had discarded two spades on
A-K and made exactly eleven tricks. He was certain that this would prove to be a top. Who else would be able to stop in time?
He could hardly wait to go out into town to discuss this remarkable hand with his less successful fellow club members. The weather was bad, but Mr Careful could not wait for the rain to stop. The first person he met was the postman, Mr Timid. It occurred to Mr Careful that maybe Mr Timid had been so afraid of the distribution that he had not even reached game.
"What did you think of that terrible hand yesterday?" Mr Timid shouted before Mr Careful could say anything himself,
"I never thought that I ever would play 3NT with a double void."
Mr Careful was taken aback. 3NT? A ridiculous contract, but the postman was whistling for joy.
"The bidding was nothing to be proud of, I guess. My partner opened 1
and rebid 2
over my 2. I realised that the misfit was extreme and simply closed the bidding with 3NT. And you know, I think that it is my best-played hand ever!" he continued, almost unable to control his satisfaction.
"Never have I been so afraid as when I ducked North's 
K opening lead. He was certain that his partner's
8 was a come-on-signal and continued a small spade. I discarded
A from dummy, won
10 in hand and went on to cash eight clubs and
A. Ten tricks and 630. Oh, I am sorry
- maybe I should have asked you first what you did."
"No, you have every reason to be proud of your result. Indeed, I think that you will be the only ones to improve on our 5
bid and made."
The postman did not care about the rain, thinking about his nice 3NT. And his result on a difficult hand was better than that of Mr Careful. He was not whistling any more
- he was singing in the rain.
Somewhat disappointed, Mr Careful went down the road to get his newspaper at the news-stand. Mr Bad News handed it to him with a broad smile.
"You, too, must have been thinking about that monstrous hand from yesterday!" he almost cried.
"A most difficult hand it was, and we nearly got too high. The most difficult bid in bridge is pass, but, as you know,
- A pass in time saves the day'."
Fearing the worst, Mr Careful almost dared not ask but had to: "You mean that double-void hand, I presume. We bid that rather nicely to 5
and made it. What did you do?"
"I opened 1, reversed into 2, rebid first 4
and then 5. You know, playing with your wife you have to bid her cards a bit, too. She would never have survived playing that hand with just two black cards in dummy, but finally she pulled herself together and passed. South led
J which I won. Next North won my
K; he did not realise that he had to cut communications with dummy, and he continued hearts. I won, cashed two diamonds and
A, and went to dummy with
A to discard three hearts on the clubs. South made his
10 but I had my eleven tricks."
Mr Careful was breathing heavily. This was almost immoral. Making 5! This meant that at best 5
made was just a shared second top. He was shocked, but found the strength to smile while he grabbed the newspaper and left the small shop and its Bad News.
He considered briefly if it was worth continuing his walk, but did so anyway. After all, his club was not made up exclusively of raving lunatics. Others must have been less successful.
He did not have to wait long before his name was shouted from far down the street. It was the Mayor, Mr
Janus, also a member of the bridge club. Usually Mr Janus, a true politician, did not show emotions but reserved a face for each direction. Today was an exception. He was obviously ebulliently happy.
Cartoon © Celia Weber
"Mr Careful! Mr Careful! I was looking for somebody who could really appreciate what we did yesterday. You are so clever and know everything about bridge. Do you remember Board 10?"
Mr Careful did not bother to try and remember the number. He already knew which board it would be.
"Yes, the one with the double void."
"Exactly. I am not very good at bidding but I opened a forcing 2, rebid 2, later rebid diamonds, and when partner
persisted with his clubs, I passed 6. I was preparing to table my cards but when South led
J I realised that I was declarer. At first I was shocked. How could I get rid of that many spades? But a politician will often face impossible problems yet solve them, so . . ."
Mr Careful felt rather unwell. In the first place that was not his idea of how Mr Janus ruled the town, and in the second, he saw only too well that . . .
". . . I discarded two spades on A-K, cashed
A, ruffed a spade with
A, ruffed a diamond, drew trumps and claimed twelve tricks. A fairytale, is it not? Is it not unbelievable what you can achieve with fifty-two small pieces of cardboard? I must remember it for my next campaign. The voters will like it."
Mr Careful did not like it, but he was careful not to show it - or so he thought.
"Are you not feeling well? The weather is awful but you know, such a hand simply makes you forget everything. Bridge is a wonderful game."
And Mr Janus drifted away, his feet at least two feet above the pavement. Yes, Bridge is special, but wonderful . . . ? Just now, Mr Careful did not think so.
Maybe something sweet would make it bearable. He entered the sweet shop - also in the hope that Mrs Candy would have done something silly on that hand.
But he saw at once that he had committed another error. She was shining like the sun on a summer holiday and he knew there could only be one reason:
"Board 10!" He exclaimed.
"How did you guess? Want a bonbon? Please, do enjoy it while I tell you about that absolutely special experience from the club last night. Mr Careful, would you believe that I made 6
on that hand?"
Cartoon © Celia Weber
Mr Careful had just swallowed the sweet, and now it went down the wrong pipe. He choked terribly, and Mrs Candy made some sympathetic noises while hitting him hard several times on the back, still talking about her cherished hand.
"My partner, Mr Sour, opened 2, I relayed with 2, he rebid 2, I responded 2, and he got more and more angry every time I rebid my own suits until I finally passed 6. I even had to play the contract myself with a void.
"North had terrible problems finding a lead, but in the end he thought that the only safe lead was
A. When I did not follow, he realised that he had just lost a trick and decided to offer no more favours. In other words, he continued trumps.
"It was not his lucky day. I drew trumps, unblocked A, and had all the clubs waiting for me in my own hand with
A as an entry. 6
bid and made. I guess it's true that diamonds are a girl's best friend."
Mr Careful did well to control himself and even congratulate Mrs Candy. He completely forgot to buy any sweets, but just now he felt more like grapes or lemons. He excused himself and left.
He decided to buy some and headed for the greengrocer's shop, feeling somewhat like a vegetable himself. Alas, neither was he safe in these healthy surroundings. He was spotted immediately by Mr Sybarite, who was just reaching out for a passion fruit.
"I have felt this irresistible urge for passion fruit ever since that hand yesterday! When my partner opened 2, there could never be less than a small slam on, and when she bid the red suits while I held the black, it was easy to bid 6 NT. I guess I was lucky that North took his
A and switched to clubs
- but that's what life is all about, isn't it?"
No, Mr Careful did not think it was. What was there left for him? Maybe a huge, bloody steak to restore his blood pressure. He left the greengrocer's and headed for the butcher's. The butcher, Mr Cleaver, was a huge fellow with giant strength and a roaring laughter, but no finesse at all in Mr Careful's opinion.
Mr Careful was only half-way through the door when the characteristic laughter hit him like a shock wave.
"Did you have eleven red or thirteen black cards last night? I had the thirteen black ones, and, would you believe it, I made thirteen tricks. You know, partner opened 1, I bid 2, and when he reversed with 2, I simply bid 7. Do not tell them too much, I always say, and how right that is. North tried to take his
A, and . . . Mr Careful! What's wrong, Mr Careful? Someone come and help me
- Mr Careful has fainted!"
Some minutes later the ambulance had fetched Mr Careful. The rumour had spread with lightning speed, and a lot of bridge players had gathered already.
"How sad," Mr Cleaver mumbled, "I don't think he heard about that fantastic hand. I am sure that he would have had a good laugh looking at the score-sheet:
