Eight bays
Five hold card tables, three hold dinner.
Two gauges, one town, and a waiting room designed to hold a whole train's worth of passengers in reasonable comfort. We inherited the comfort and kept the wait.
The benches were the first thing and the reason for everything else. Eight bays, all original, all bolted down, all worn through the varnish in the middle where a century of people sat.
The departure board was face down behind a partition with its slats intact. Getting it hanging and legible again took a signwriter and most of a fortnight.
The kitchen is entirely new and sits where the parcels office was. It is the only part of the building that does not pretend to be old.

Five hold card tables, three hold dinner.
Kitchen and lounge together, and that is the ceiling.
Original slats, new paint, chalked up daily.
The evening splits in two and everybody changes over — it is the whole idea and it is not optional.
The room stays a room: no machines, no screens, nothing that beeps for attention.
Nobody drives away from a long night without being offered a car first.
A licensed kitchen and a card lounge in the old waiting room — the age limit covers the whole building, dining bays included.
No gaming machines, no wagering and no online play. Everything happens in the room on Dean Street.