Jenni Murray on the rise of gambling among older people

I know about gambling. I know what pleasure it can provide. I also know what absolute misery and devastation can result from what can easily become a costly addiction.

I know the thrill when the three cherries are aligned, and a small fortune appears, or when the horse you fancied powers over the finishing line. I know the excitement of a win, but I also know how often your hopes are dashed.

I can't say I'm surprised at worrying news that gambling among older people is rising - figures recently released by the Gambling Commission found that 39% of those aged 65-74 surveyed said they had gambled online in the past four weeks, an increase of 124% since 2019.

The rise in online gambling among people over the age of 60 seems to have occurred since the Covid lockdowns. We all sought thrills when we were forced into social isolation. And there, right in front of us, in the comfort of our own homes, were the online gambling platforms. Danger, right on our laps!

I learned about the thrill of it all when I was tiny - maybe two or three. Every Saturday I would be left alone with the grandfather I adored. On would go the TV, I would sit by his knees and we would make our selection as the horses paraded before the races.

I loved watching the races and bounced around on the floor, willing my horse to win. We didn't bet much money. Two bob from my pocket money was all I could afford. Grandpa might manage ten bob, but the rewards were often considerable if we'd backed a horse with good odds.

Mum would come home with Grandma after their afternoon's shopping to be faced with a joyous daughter, screeching out the details of how much money we'd made. She'd be furious, threatening my poor grandfather and insisting she would never leave me with him again. How dare he teach me that backing horses could be profitable?

She never, though, to my great relief, relieved him of his babysitting duties. My childhood gambling activities taught me a great deal about how the odds work and I became quite a judge of horses myself.

I was a university student when I learned about the terrible risks of the business. I needed a job in the holidays and noticed an advert in the local paper for a boardman in the biggest bookies in town. They were rather surprised to find a young woman with clear knowledge of the betting business.

I got the job, becoming the first boardwoman in the country. All the details of every race and the odds for individual horses had to be written on the board. I stood on a little platform with a black marker pen, busily making the changes as they happened, but, busy as I was, I was in a good position to observe the committed gamblers.

There were two men who came in almost every day and handed over enormous sums of cash to place their bets. Very occasionally they won and virtually danced out of the shop. More often they dragged their feet to the door, head down, shoulders hunched, and I wondered how their wives and children coped when wages had been frittered away.

I vowed, at the age of 20, that I would never allow myself to get into that sort of trouble. I do bet, once a year, on the Grand National. Grandpa's favourite race. Sometimes I win, more often I don't, but I have never laid down more than a fiver.

My grandfather bet only rarely when he became a pensioner. He would have been appalled to see how easily computers let us place bets without leaving home to go to a shop. He'd have been shocked at the rise in those over 65 chipping into their pensions for gambling online.

However, I don't believe pensioners' gambling habits are anyone's business but ours. If we mess up, it's our problem. Frankly, we're old enough to know better.

Even though Grandpa introduced me to the thrill of it all, he also gave very wise advice; 'Never bet a penny more than you can afford. And remember, only one person really wins at this game and that's the bookie'. He was right.

Denise Coates, the founder of the online gambling firm Bet365, is now Britain's richest self-made woman, worth billions. So, yes, Grandpa, it's only the bookie who really wins.