CHERUB: Class A - Robert Muchamore Page 0,75

second. ‘Do you want to fight now?’
‘Your dad will go psycho,’ James said.
‘There’s gloves that go with the punchbag downstairs in the gym. We can fight on the beach in the moonlight. You can’t see from the house if you stay down near the sea.’
‘OK,’ James said, sitting up on the sofa bed and smiling. ‘Just don’t start bawling to Daddy when I punch the snot out of you.’
Junior sneered. ‘You talk pretty big for someone who’s only ever done sparring.’
Junior flicked on the lamp beside his bed and put on his watch. Both boys slipped on shorts and trainers. They sneaked downstairs and got the gloves. James was surprised when he saw how small they were.
‘These are pro-weight,’ Junior whispered. ‘Much less padding than for amateur boxing. You really feel a sting if you get hit with one of these.’
‘Are there head guards?’ James asked.
‘We’re fighting like men,’ Junior said. ‘No finger tape, no head guards, no gum shields, pro-gloves. Not chicken, are you?’
James was starting to wonder if fighting was a good idea. The CHERUB staff wouldn’t be impressed if he got himself injured in an unnecessary midnight boxing match, but he was too proud to back down.
They walked through to the living-room and got a fright when George let out a loud snore. He’d fallen asleep in front of the TV. Junior quietly slid one of the French doors open and they jumped off the decking on to the beach.
The tide was on its way out. The moon was bright and the wet sand near the sea squelched under their trainers. Junior used a stick to draw the outline of a lopsided boxing ring, before setting his watch to do a three-minute countdown.
‘Three rounds, lasting three minutes each,’ Junior said. ‘If you go down three times you’re out of the fight.’
James felt nervous as he pulled his second glove on with his teeth.
‘Go to your corner,’ Junior said.
When Junior’s stopwatch bleeped, the two boys charged forward and started throwing punches. With amateur gloves, even a full-force punch barely hurts, but Junior’s first barrage with the professional gloves connected hard. One punch knocked James off balance. He couldn’t catch his breath as he stumbled backwards. Junior sunk a blow below the elastic of James’ shorts, doubling him over. Junior’s next punch caught James in the side of the head. He splattered helplessly into the damp sand.
‘Low blow,’ James wheezed, clutching his abdomen.
The fight had only been going a few seconds, but it was a warm night and both boys were pouring sweat.
‘It wasn’t low,’ Junior said. ‘That counts as my first knockdown.’
James clambered to his feet. He usually loved the rush you got during a fight, but Junior was fast and strong. James had a nasty feeling he’d bitten off more than he could chew.
‘So we’re fighting dirty, are we?’ he said, holding back a burst of anger. ‘That’s fine by me.’
He threw a fast punch. Junior wasn’t ready and the thinly padded glove smashed into his nose. James’ next shot was an uppercut that snapped back Junior’s head.
‘Stop,’ Junior shouted, groaning in pain as he wrapped his arms over his face. ‘Jesus Christ … You idiot.’
‘What?’ James asked.
‘You’ve got sand on your gloves. It’s gone in my eye.’
Junior tore off a glove and started rubbing his eye.
‘Sorry,’ James said. ‘I never realised. Are you OK?’
Junior broke into an uneasy smile as he blinked out the sand.
‘You know what?’ he said. ‘I blame the idiot who thought up this stupid idea in the first place.’
James laughed. ‘That would be you.’
‘Call it a draw, eh, James?’
‘Fair enough,’ James said. ‘Now we know why they don’t have beach boxing.’
‘I’m going for a swim,’ Junior said, kicking off his trainers. ‘I need to wash all this sweat off.’
James thought he heard a banging sound as he pulled off his gloves.
‘Did you hear that?’
‘What?’ Junior asked.
‘I thought I heard something up in the house.’
Junior smiled. ‘Maybe George woke up and fell off the sofa.’
‘Yeah,’ James laughed. ‘Either that or they’ve set loose the axe-wielding maniac from that movie.’
Junior waded into the sea and dived forward, turning a somersault underwater. James pushed off backwards and let a wave wash him back towards the beach.
‘You ever had a nightmare after watching a scary movie?’ Junior asked.
‘You know the film Seven?’ James asked, as he bobbed in the surf.
‘I love that movie,’ Junior said. ‘It’s totally sick.’
‘When my mum was alive, I showed off until she let me watch the video. I woke up in