fighting or running?’ Lanier spat.
His next punch was high and Marc used the opening, smashing his fist into Lanier’s nose. As the crowd gasped, Marc threw a left right combo and Lanier was flat on his back in the long grass.
‘Who’s brave now?’ Marc shouted, as he spat in Lanier’s face, then backed off to let him stand up.
The instant Lanier was on his feet, Marc launched a vicious kick. His bare heel connected with Lanier’s stomach. As Lanier doubled over, Marc brought his knee up, smashing his nose for a second time.
There were gasps from the crowd as Marc grabbed Lanier by the throat, throttling him as he drove him back several metres and slammed him hard against the charred wooden side of the barn. When Marc let Lanier’s neck go, all he could do was snort blood and hold his arms weakly over his face.
Orphanage fights were usually accompanied by cheers and jeers, but Marc’s ruthless display of combat skills had stunned sixty boys into silence.
Lanier was completely at Marc’s mercy and he had a menu of techniques he’d learned on CHERUB campus. He could punch Lanier unconscious, twist his arm up behind his back and break it, smash a palm under his chin and shatter his jaw, put him in a headlock and snap his neck to paralyse him for life.
Marc hadn’t admitted it to himself upstairs, but he’d known he had the skills to win. It was Marc’s way of showing Lanier that something significant had happened in the two years since he’d run off, but he now had no desire to finish Lanier off.
This fight was no fairer than if he’d picked on one of the eight-year-olds, and Marc suddenly hated himself. The moment when his knee crunched Lanier’s nose had felt beautiful, but that made him no better than people like Alain, Fischer and Tomas when they’d beaten him.
Marc was confused and tearful as he backed away from Lanier. Sisters Peter and Madeline had noticed the train of boys heading into the back field and the younger lads dived for cover as the nuns ran around the side of the barn.
‘What in the name of God?’ Sister Madeline shouted.
She saw Lanier propped against the barn, half unconscious, with bloody hands and face. Marc was three paces further back, sobbing because he felt like he’d turned into the kind of bully he’d always sworn he’d never become.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Sister Raphael was old school. She worked every hour keeping orphans fed, washed and orderly, but didn’t much hold with touchy feely stuff. When she saw Marc was still upset half an hour after the fight, she made an indignant grunt and told him to pull himself together.
Boys who broke orphanage rules got extra chores, or a thrashing. Marc felt ridiculous baring his bum and bending over a desk for a chubby nun, fifteen centimetres shorter than he was. The sting of the metal-tipped cane felt like a visit from an old friend, and when he had half a dozen red welts across his buttocks, Marc got told to pull up his trousers and stop the ridiculous snivelling.
Marc sat on the front steps of the orphanage in moonlight. The hard stone after a thrashing was painful, but he didn’t budge because he felt he deserved it as punishment for beating up Lanier.
Every now and then Marc heard Lanier moan as Sister Madeline treated his injuries in the medical room under the stairs. When he saw a slim figure walking a bike up the front path, Marc thought he’d started hallucinating.
‘Hey, you,’ Jae said softly.
She’d changed out of her farm overalls to go into town. She looked like the Jae Marc knew before he’d left, in a summer dress, cardigan and smart leather sandals. Only the dirt packed under broken nails gave the game away.
‘I thought I’d have the devil’s job getting inside to speak to you,’ Jae said. ‘And here you are, right on the front step.’
She sat next to Marc on the step and rested her head on his shoulder.
‘Where’s your dad?’ Marc asked.
‘Home,’ Jae said. ‘One of the Luftwaffe officers who lived with us got him and Felix released. They’ve emptied our grain silos, and shut the bakery in Beauvais down. Daddy will probably have to go to court. He’s brushing it off, but I can tell he’s worried.’
‘I beat the shit out of Lanier,’ Marc confessed.
‘Good,’ Jae said resolutely. ‘I hope he’s in a lot of pain.’
Marc shook his head. ‘I laid into him and