The young lad behind the counter of the betting shop looked at me askance. ‘This horse is 200–1.’
‘Yes. I know.’
He leaned over the counter and lowered his voice. ‘Have you had a tip?’
I looked around me to see why he was whispering. ‘No.’
He stared at the betting slip. ‘You’ve had a tip, haven’t you?’
‘No!’ I insisted.
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