22 AUGUST 1992, Page 22

My Turn

My turn? OK. I throw the dice, get ten, Glance down to see where boot is on the board, Then count the squares from Pentonville and land Slap bang on Vine Street with hotel. Oh Lord.

The children burst out laughing, since I'm sunk. I groan, recount the squares — and play my role, Knelt round the board with them (and largish scotch), The grown-up stooge, good loser, life and soul.

I jolly through and trust, Dad, you'd approve How I, though not as skilled as you were, play You gone, your role passed on — and can't but think Again of you this Borders Hogmanay. (A thousand quid? It can't be. Where's my drink?) The Lord who gave; the Lord who takes away.

Simon Curtis