the wrong side. Is it her you’re getting ready to brawl with? Because that would make more sense. Folgate, take off your coat. Your man is about to fight you.”
“Not her—him,” Finch says.
“A fight, Wild!” Duncan says. “Finally.”
“Yes, Wild. The men are fighting.” Finch puts up his fists. “What’s the matter?” he asks, glancing at Julian’s hands, which remain down. “Are you afraid to have a real fight? Come on. It’s been a long time coming. I won’t have you insulting me anymore. Let’s settle this.” He starts bouncing around in a boxer’s dance.
“Finch, stop it,” Mia says. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Stay out of it, dove. This has nothing to do with you.”
“Wait, what? I thought this has everything to do with her,” says Wild. “Finch, I know you played Jack Dempsey once at the Playhouse, and I know you think you can lick Swedish . . .”
“Wild, stay out of this!” Duncan yells. “Let him try.”
“I don’t think it, I can!” Finch says, and then to Julian: “What’s the matter, tough guy? Backing off? Hiding behind the skirts of a raspberry ripple?”
“Whoa,” Wild says, mock offended. “Suddenly, I have a good mind to let Julian do it.”
“Do it, Jules, do it!” says Duncan.
“Okay, Finch,” Julian says, moving Wild away and stepping forward. Mia keeps yanking on the back of his coat. “You want to fight? Let’s go. But for real stakes, not some Mickey Mouse bullshit. If I win, you’re going to leave Mia alone.”
“What do you mean, leave her alone?”
“You know, kind of like you just left her alone with her assailants,” Julian says. “But leave her alone for good.”
“No! That’s rubbish! Absolutely not!”
“Why the fuss, Finch?” Wild says. “I thought you were sure you’d win?”
“It’s bollocks, that’s why.”
“Wild, let go of me,” Julian says, prying Wild’s calming arm off his shoulder.
“No, Swedish,” Wild says. “He’s not of sound mind. It would be like fighting a baby. He’s not mentally competent.”
“Step back, Wild!” Finch yells. “I’m a lot more competent than you!”
“Do it, do it!” says Duncan, jumping up and down.
A small crowd has gathered around them in an excited circle. Men’s raised voices often means a physical confrontation, and people always want to see that, even these people, who you’d think have seen plenty.
Unfortunately, the fight is stopped before it can begin. From down the block, the Incident Officer orders Finch to duty. A disappointed growl runs through the crowd. Picking up the coat he threw on the ground, Finch backs off, but not before saying, “This isn’t over. This isn’t over by a long shot.”
* * *
When Finch returns to Bank that evening, the first thing he says to Wild is, “Where is he? Hiding like a rabbit?”
“If you mean sleeping, Finch, then yes,” Julian says, sitting up in his bunk, stretching his stiff back, flexing his injured calf. After a long rest, he has calmed down. He was hoping Finch had also calmed down, realized perhaps how imprudent a fight would be. Julian is ready to shake hands, let bygones be bygones. They live in too close quarters to let bad blood come between them. But clearly Finch, instead of calming down, has been getting himself into even more of a lather.
“You want to forfeit?” Finch says. “Just say so. I want everyone to know what I’ve known all along—that you’re nothing but talk. Maria, especially.”
Julian sighs. “Are you sure you want to do this, Finch?”
It’s not just Finch. No one is letting Julian off the hook for a fight. Who doesn’t like a good fight? It’s been brewing between the two of them, Duncan says, and everyone knows it. It’s high time the matter was settled by combat. Julian shakes his head. It’s fun and games now. Just wait until Finch gets a black eye.
Mia comes to sit by Julian. “You promised me,” she says quietly.
“Mia, talk to your boyfriend,” Julian says. “What do you want me to do? He wants to fight. You don’t want him hurt, talk to him, not me.”
You’d think the older men would be the voices of reason but no. The older men, Phil and Robbie, say the fight absolutely must proceed but needs to be done properly. It needs a ring, it needs rounds, an announcer, a bell. Nick wakes up long enough to say, “Fuck off! Just let them duke it out on the platform. Wake me when it starts,” and goes back to sleep.
Mia calls everyone to her and declares there will be no fight unless it’s