A terrifying parable of the addictive power of internet gambling: It began with a £5 online bet. Then this ex-Major gambled away £750,000 - and his family
Four years ago, Justyn Larcombe’s life was little short of perfect. He and his wife, Emma, owned a £450,000 townhouse in the genteel Derbyshire village of Ashbourne, where they lived with their baby son, Matthew.
After a distinguished career in the Army — he served as a patrol commander in Northern Ireland and a Major during the Kosovo crisis — Justyn had moved into finance, earning a six-figure salary at a boutique insurance broking firm in the City of London.
He drove a £30,000 Porsche while Emma had a black Mercedes. They holidayed in luxury villas in Italy and Spain, and frequently dined out with friends. ‘It was a happy, family life full of friends and laughter,’ says Justyn.
Since then, things have unravelled spectacularly. Today, Justyn, 44, lives alone in a rented cottage in Shipbourne, Kent.
Emma, 39, remains 200 miles away in Ashbourne having moved in with her parents last year, taking Matthew, now five, and his younger brother Oscar, three, with her.
The Porsche is long gone, sold — along with most of Justyn’s possessions — to service debts of almost £100,000.
The reason? A crippling addiction to online gambling which cost Justyn both his job and his family, and saw him squander £750,000.
His is a salutary tale about the alarming way the online gambling industry — worth a staggering £2 billion in the UK — can wreck the lives of those from whom it profits.
The latest figures, recorded in 2010, put the number of gambling addicts in the UK at 450,000 — up from 300,000 in 2007.
According to GamCare, a gambling addiction charity, problems with online gambling were the cause of 34 per cent of calls to its helpline last year — second only to betting shops.
In Justyn’s case, the descent into addiction began with something as simple as a casual £5 bet on a rugby match, made one Saturday afternoon in September 2009.
Four years ago, Justyn Larcombe’s life was little short of perfect. He and his wife, Emma, owned a £450,000 townhouse in the genteel Derbyshire village of Ashbourne, where they lived with their baby son, Matthew.
After a distinguished career in the Army — he served as a patrol commander in Northern Ireland and a Major during the Kosovo crisis — Justyn had moved into finance, earning a six-figure salary at a boutique insurance broking firm in the City of London.
He drove a £30,000 Porsche while Emma had a black Mercedes. They holidayed in luxury villas in Italy and Spain, and frequently dined out with friends. ‘It was a happy, family life full of friends and laughter,’ says Justyn.
Since then, things have unravelled spectacularly. Today, Justyn, 44, lives alone in a rented cottage in Shipbourne, Kent.
Emma, 39, remains 200 miles away in Ashbourne having moved in with her parents last year, taking Matthew, now five, and his younger brother Oscar, three, with her.
The Porsche is long gone, sold — along with most of Justyn’s possessions — to service debts of almost £100,000.
The reason? A crippling addiction to online gambling which cost Justyn both his job and his family, and saw him squander £750,000.
His is a salutary tale about the alarming way the online gambling industry — worth a staggering £2 billion in the UK — can wreck the lives of those from whom it profits.
The latest figures, recorded in 2010, put the number of gambling addicts in the UK at 450,000 — up from 300,000 in 2007.
According to GamCare, a gambling addiction charity, problems with online gambling were the cause of 34 per cent of calls to its helpline last year — second only to betting shops.
In Justyn’s case, the descent into addiction began with something as simple as a casual £5 bet on a rugby match, made one Saturday afternoon in September 2009.
