‘Do you have a horse running? I will bet on your horse,’ ventured Ashok.

‘I will bet,’ said Ali Khan, ‘that if my horse loses, I will take your car. But if it wins, I will give you a car.’

‘What’s the name?’ said Ashok, his face red with excitement.

‘Chutney Mary. It might be a donkey,’ said Ali Khan.

Ashok scratched his head. He took off his glasses and wiped them. His belly hung over his pants. ‘The stars are aligned. Your horses are the greatest...’ stammered Ashok, ‘stallions from Arabia. I will bet your horse will win the next race.’ He placed his glasses back on his forehead.

Govinda’s shoulders buckled, his head jerked up and his eyes blinked. How could the driver bet the school car? Ashok trembled when he shook hands with Ali Khan to confirm the wager, yet he put on a good face.

The jockeys settled the horses in the starting gates before the pack set off. Chutney Mary was last to break and was clearly no stallion; it ran like a donkey. It wobbled and swayed. Govinda even thought he heard it bray. Ashok was shaking. ‘Oh my god what have I done!’ He looked at Govinda and closed his eyes.

‘Why did you make that bet?’ Govinda bit his fist. He was crying.

‘I don’t know! What have I done? Forgive me.’ Ashok lifted his glasses onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes. His eyes closed tighter and opened again. His belief in Ali Khan was shattered.

Ali Khan looked at the driver and smiled: ‘I am glad you came and found me. Now you have lost your bet and your car.’

‘But that is not his car. It is my father’s car,’ said Govinda.

‘Wrong,’ said Ali Khan, narrowing his eyes. ‘It is my car and there is nothing to forgive. A wager is a wager.’ Ali Khan glowered. Govinda stared back at him but it was an unequal staring competition as Ali Khan was a very powerful man and Govinda was only a child. ‘Well, Govinda, do you know what I see when I look at you? I see a boy who likes to be hidden. Look. You are here without your parent’s permission. Here, I think is a boy who wishes to be invisible.’