Under snatching, relentless fingers, one of the plastic bag handles broke, revealing a section of the tablecloth, garishly striped in red and blue bands. Seymour found his voice, battled to hold it steady, chatty even, and kept his fingers tightly hooked in the other handle. ‘This?’ he said. ‘Well, it’s…’ Oh God, what had Angie called them, that day at the races? ‘Jockey’s silks,’ he said with forced swagger. ‘You know, those jackets jockeys wear in horse races.’ Trying to sound like a myriad of other kids in playgrounds displaying prized possessions…‘My dad gave me this, my uncle brought this back from…’ And always himself on the fringe, not included, suffered to be part of the audience.

‘They belong to Clive Trelawney,’ he said in a rush. ‘My uncle. Got to get them to him right away, he’s riding in a big race this afternoon.’

‘Clive Trelawney’s your uncle? Get out!’

‘Yeah, he is. He’s riding a horse called Plumestone, fifth race on the program. This jacket, I mean these silks, they’ve just been dry-cleaned. You know how it is, all those top jockeys are dead fussy about the way they look on the track. I’d take it out and let you have a proper look, only they’re folded a special way…Still, I guess you can watch the race on telly if you’re interested.’

All the time he was walking, step by small ragged step, heart thumping, towards the alley entrance. At least they’d let the other handle go, and he looped it around his wrist with a show of casual importance…

‘My old man’s always placing bets down at the shop,’ one of the kids said conversationally. ‘He won five-hundred dollars once on the quadrella.’

‘Well, you tell him to watch out for a horse called Black Satin. A real roughie, but it can sometimes win you a whole month’s rent. Specially if my uncle’s riding it. See you round some time…’

He was scrambling up on to the tram, glancing back at the kids, and they didn’t look threatening at all, now. One of them even gave him a half wave. Outwitted, he thought, with pleased surprise. You don’t always have to roll over and offer up your throat, there are other ways you can get out of things. Other ways where you come out the winner.