Miss Wilhemina van Driver made her first nervous entrance at the bridge club in the Autumn. It wasn’t that she was nervous because it was her first time; her entrances everywhere were nervous and this was just the first one at the bridge club. Minnie (as her friends called her) was highly strung, of a delicate disposition, inclined to swoon at the merest hint of excitement, but fairly well-preserved for one in late middle age. Her dear Mama had just passed away and, for the first time in her life, Minnie was a free agent. She wasn’t sure whether she liked this new freedom though; it would be so much more comfortable to sit at home and read her beloved Jane Austen. Still, Reginald, her nephew, had insisted that she “get out” a bit and see the world. He had taught her the rudiments of bridge, and arranged her membership of the club; but, sadly, Reginald was on business in Auckland and couldn’t accompany his Aunt to her first evening at the club. However, he had arranged a partner for Minnie, one Sinclair Whitlands, and Minnie now looked myopically around hoping to find this Mr Whitlands whom she had never met.
She almost jumped out of her skin when a loud voice behind her bade her welcome. “Good evening, exotic flower of Otago, I am Sinclair, your partner for the evening”.
Minnie had never been addressed in such colourful terms in her entire life, and she wondered briefly whether she had come in error to a gigolo training school. She stammered her response and waited with trepidation on Mr Whitland’s next utterance. “Tender lady, fear not the foes within” (Sinclair nodded his head in the direction of the playing area) “be of good heart and let valour triumph”.
As this was her first acquaintance with Sinclair she did not realise that he always spoke as though declaiming heroic epics. She therefore became even more alarmed, and her alarm verged on panic when Sinclair took her firmly by the arm and led her to Table 3. Trembling she collapsed into the chair, reached into her handbag for her smelling salts, and applied their vapours with the most delicate of white lace handkerchiefs.
Mercifully the first round was a bye and Minnie managed to regain enough composure to agree a simple version of Acol with Sinclair (well, simple for him, seemingly of byzantine complexity to her). As their first opponents sat down to play Minnie’s apprehension was still very acute. She did not know what to make of her partner’s unconscious impersonation of a chevalier of the Arthurian Round Table. Would this be a disaster of gargantuan proportions, or merely another unhappy episode to haunt her nights of introspection?
Minnie waited apprehensively as her opponents seated themselves and announced a slew of incomprehensible pre-alerts. Unbeknown to her, her opponents were the dastardly Weasel and Ferret who were metaphorically licking their lips (or, as Sinclair would undoubtedly have put it, lubricating their oral orifices) at the prospect of easy pickings.
| ♠AQJ52 ♥AK5 ♦32 ♣432 | ||
| ♠KT43 ♥96 ♦AK984 ♣76 | ♠96 ♥J7432 ♦J765 ♣J9 | |
| ♠87 ♥QT8 ♦QT ♣AKQT85 |
Minnie, as South, counted her points. Finding the total to be 13 she beamed. Here at least was a situation she could handle. “1NT” she announced. “Shhh” snarled the Ferret “write it on the bidding pad”. Suitably chastened she inscribed “1NT” in beautiful copperplate on the pad. “No, idiot, not on your partner’s side” sneered the Weasel.
Eventually, the correct bid was inserted in the correct place. The Weasel (West) scrawled a contemptuous 2♦ and Sinclair (North) had a difficult problem. Eventually he doubled trying to get across the quality of his hand – and the Ferret competed to 3♦.
Now Minnie was one of God’s pure simple souls. Not for her were the intricacies of competitive doubles, Lebensohl or all their complex ilk. She imagined that Sinclair’s double was showing diamonds and so she tremulously bid 3NT. The Weasel’s double could be heard in the street. Fearing the worst, but deciding to trust his partner, Sinclair passed.
As you can see, Minnie should have lost the first 5 tricks. However, the Weasel led a low diamond expecting his partner to have the ♦Q. Minnie’s ♦Q captured the Ferret’s ♦J. One of the best parts of Minnie’s game was playing off winners and she next played three top hearts and six top clubs.
The Weasel’s three remaining cards set him an insoluble problem. He could not retain a top diamond as well as three spades. Hoping his partner held the ♦T he kept his spade guard and discarded both top diamonds. But now Minnie’s ♦T further squeezed a spade from him and Minnie (who knew a finesse when she saw one) then took the last two tricks in spades. Four doubled overtricks!
Sinclair felt that a little revenge needling of their opponents was justified. “Gentlemen, it was gallant of you to allow my peerless partner to prevail and to purloin but 5 tricks more than perfect defence should permit”.
After this uncomfortable first round against the Weasel and Ferret, Minnie had thoroughly enjoyed her first game. Sinclair had tried to explain to her the complexities of scoring but the only piece of his advice that she retained was that the pairs arriving at their table were not their true opponents – these were all sitting in the same direction as her and would not be encountered. This seemed to be a strange concept but it meant that Minnie was able to welcome and chat with each pair that they played against (or “played with” as she now put it to herself) without feeling that she was consorting with the enemy.
So pair after pair were regaled with the story of how her dog had been terrorised by the postman, how her budgie had attacked the neighbour’s cat, and how those greedy men from the Council had stolen one of her garden cabbages.
All was sweetness and light until the Weasel and Ferret returned for the last round. Determined to be pleasant, Minnie enquired brightly “How have you found those opponents of ours as you went round?”. The Weasel sniffed, the Ferret scowled, and a properly competitive atmosphere descended on the table. Sorrowfully aware that these nasty men were not going to respond to her friendly overtures, Minnie’s erratic judgement became even more mercurial. So when Sinclair (North) opened his hand with a rather light 1♦, Minnie propelled the partnership to 3NT. A second later she realised that she would have to play it and a cold panic beset her, which was compounded by a double from the Weasel (West) so vicious that he broke his pencil.
| ♠763 ♥Q8 ♦5432 ♣AKQJ | ||
| ♠JT98 ♥KJT ♦AKQJ ♣76 | ♠4 ♥97643 ♦6 ♣T85432 | |
| ♠AKQ52 ♥A52 ♦T987 ♣9 |
The defence cashed 4 diamonds and the Weasel switched to ♠J. Minnie counted her top tricks. There were 8 only but, in error, she came to a total to 9. So thinking that she only had to take her top winners she began to play them out (as her grandmother had taught her years ago in her Victorian parlour). She began by cashing the ♥A and then her 4 top clubs.
She did not know it but she had executed a Vienna coup against the Weasel who could not guard spades and also retain his ♥K. Sinclair, of course, recognised the situation. So when Minnie, pink and breathless, finished taking her 9 tricks Sinclair began whistling a Strauss waltz and danced her around the bridge club. It was an unusual ending to the evening but Minnie was now hooked on bridge and would undoubtedly return.
Bridge Romances 
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