Extract from Rob's latest book, Barry White: The Walrus of Wales 
Out September 1, 2026 - available for pre-order for 99p

‘So are you both compulsive gamblers?’ enquired meeting host Chris to Barry and Ruth. 
‘Yes,’ replied Ruth. 
‘I’m not,’ snapped Barry indignantly. 
‘Yes you are. You won over a million quid on the horses.’ 
‘Did yer?’ said Clint admiringly.
 ‘How?’ asked Ramona, more in hope for herself than concern for some stranger’s welfare. 
Barry scowled at his aunt for revealing far too much, too soon. ‘Well, it wasn’t just the horses. I got drunk and placed this mad seven-fold accumulator online – predicting Neil Warnock to become the next manager of Real Madrid, Boris Johnson to return as leader of the Tories, the Archbishop of Canterbury to win I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here and Tom Jones to win Eurovision, mad stuff like that. Anyway, they all won. I can’t even remember putting the bets on.’ 
‘And you won a million pounds from that?’ enquired Sharon. 
‘No, I won 64K. I only put twenty quid on, I’m not a lunatic.’
 ‘Twenty quid he borrowed from me, I might add, to supposedly pay his mother’s leccy bill,’ said Ruth, lifting up her handbag in front of her stomach with both hands and pursing her lips in mock shock fashion. 
‘So where did the million quid come from?’ asked Clint.
Barry sighed, unhappy at the way this meeting was unfolding. ‘Umm, I put twenty grand of my winnings on a 50–1 outsider at the Cheltenham Festival.’ 
‘And it won?’
 ‘Yes.’ 
‘Did you have insider information?’ 
‘No.’ 
‘Then what possessed you to make a bet like that? It sounds crazy.’ Barry loosened his collar, aware that he was the focus of everyone’s interrogation. ‘You’re right, it was a daft bet. But I’d had another skinful, see…’ 
‘Sounds like you’re in the wrong meeting, you need alcoholics anonymous rather than gamblers anonymous,’ said Ramona, leaning forward on the edge of her seat like she was watching the best Hollywood blockbuster ever. 
Meeting organiser Chris realised Barry’s story – of how he gambled more recklessly than anyone he had ever encountered in his life before and won – was hardly a suitable deterrent for the perils of betting. 
‘But you’re here today because you admit you have a gambling problem. Correct?’ said Chris. 
‘No, incorrect. I’m not. I don’t have a problem.’ 
Chris slurped long and hard on his extra strong coffee with two bags still in the bottom of the cup. 
‘So why are you here?’ 
‘Because of her – she’s the one with the problem, not me.’ Barry waggled his index finger repeatedly towards his aunt. 
‘I’ve just had a bit of a bad run on the online roulette tables,’ said Ruth.
‘Join the club,’ added Sharon.