shakes his head. “No. I didn’t want to tell her. She can’t take the day off to come into school and she has her hands full with my sister at the moment. She doesn’t do well when it’s damp.”
“I see.” I place my gloved hands under his chin. “Don’t lower your head. Keep your chin up. We’ve got some work to do.”
Making a mental note not to go anywhere near his right side, I demonstrate how to block and how to move; how to ride punches and to spot weaknesses. I can see he’s doing his best, but he will never be a fighter. He hasn’t got it in him.
He stops. His head falls and his gloved hands rest on his knees like two misshapen balloons. “Can we stop for a minute? I’m knackered.”
“What’s wrong? Do you have asthma too?”
Shit. I should have asked.
”No. I need to rest.”
“You’re out of shape, kid.”
“No shit!” he gasps.
“Take off the gloves and the head gear. You’ve done enough. We need to take this slow.” I throw my gloves down alongside his. “There’s no point you learning strategies and techniques if you’re not physically strong. You need to start taking better care of yourself—build some muscle, eat better. What’s your favourite food?”
He sits down and removes his trainers. “Pizza.”
“No I mean real food.”
“That is real food. My mum is too tired to cook when she comes home. Sometimes we have chips with it and coleslaw.”
I’m shaking my head. “Why is she too tired to cook? What time does she get home?”
“Around seven thirty.”
“Why so late?”
He pulls his hoodie over his head and pushes through his sleeves in two angry shoves. “Because she has two jobs. That’s how she pays the bills and gets us clothes and stuff.”
I feel like such a bastard for having asked. “Right. So she usually brings dinner in, when she gets home?”
“Yes. That’s what I said.” He throws his bag over his shoulder. “Is my time up?”
I grab my towel, drag it across my face and move with him towards the door. “It’s almost nine o’clock. Lester will be ready to take you home.”
“Thanks.” His hand rests on the handle. “I’m sorry about before. I don’t think that you’re an idiot.” He offers an outstretched hand. “Thanks for the lesson.”
“It’s okay. And you’re welcome. You can’t help having a crush on my wife.” I give him a wink and open the door leading to the lift. “I’ve got one hell of a crush on her too.”
He grins and the colour returns to his cheeks again, not claret but a kind of rose pink. “I’ve not met anyone like her before. She’s like…”
I throw my towel over my left shoulder. “What?”
I’ve got all the time in the world, kid.
He bites his lip while thinking. “Like an angel.”
I pat his back as we step into the lift. “Yes, I couldn’t agree more.”
When we emerge from the lift on the ground floor, Jamie assumes Lester is waiting outside, engine running, ready to go. I suggested Lester use one of the other cars, one minus a tracking device tonight. The last thing I want is anyone with bad intentions finding out where Jamie lives. He’s no relation of mine, but even so, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for his abduction or murder. He’s oblivious of events impacting my life and I want to keep it that way.
The side door to the garage opens with a click. Lester is already waiting, running a forearm over the bonnet of the Jag, having spotted a speck of dust. He keeps them immaculate.
“Holy fuck!” Jamie exclaims, bounding forward. “More cars. Are all these yours?”
I nod and lean against the doorframe. “You came in the Boxster, right? Jump in. Lester’s driving you home.”
He throws down his gym bag. “Can I take a look at the others first? These are beauties.” From among his crumpled clothes and trainers, he lifts out a small digital camera. He holds it aloft. “Mind if I take a few pics?”
“No. Just be careful who you show them to. These are irreplaceable and I don’t want any of your buddies singling them out for a joyride.”
“What do you take me for?” He rolls his eyes, turns his back on me and starts clicking. I watch Lester step out of the frame—he hates being in the limelight. A muffed voice comes from behind the camera. “How long have you had them?”
“Many years. They’re investments.”
He disappears around the rear of the Boxster. “What a waste. You