to be here,’ he replied.
‘I come from Japan,’ Takada said. ‘I can train you in many special techniques. My training is hard, but I accommodate you. I will be fair if you not shirk.’
Mason looked up at his brother and spoke in French. ‘Did you understand all that?’
‘I got the gist,’ Troy said, before speaking directly to Takada in English. ‘I look forward to working hard for you, sir.’
Takada smiled and bowed again, but as Paul led the boys away Takada’s tone radically altered.
‘Paul stay,’ Takada said firmly. ‘You two await him in classroom B.’
Paul looked warily at Takada as Troy and Mason disappeared into the classroom.
‘How is your ankle? Better I think?’
‘Not too bad,’ Paul said, as he lifted his left leg off the ground and grimaced as he flexed his foot up and down. ‘It’s improving. Hopefully I’ll be able to get back in training early next week.’
‘I see,’ Takada said. ‘Because I feel you greatly exaggerate your injury.’
‘I haven’t,’ Paul squirmed, as his voice rose several octaves. ‘Did Luc tell you that? Because you know he doesn’t like me. He’s just stirring up trouble.’
Takada tapped two fingers on his glasses. ‘With my own eyes!’ he said angrily. ‘I saw you with Mrs Henderson, racing around the garden collecting food for her spiders. You ran very well.’
‘Oh,’ Paul said, as his jaw dropped. ‘The thing is, I get twinges. It comes and goes.’
Takada smiled. ‘You will resume training tomorrow with the others and I’ll report your mischief to Superintendent McAfferty.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Paul said curtly. He didn’t dare smile, but McAfferty was a softie when it came to discipline. He reckoned he’d get away with a stiff lecture on taking responsibility and working as a team.
‘And rather than always doing your combat training with Marc, you’ll be working with Luc for tomorrow’s session.’
Paul spluttered with shock. ‘But Luc’s enormous, sir, and he doesn’t like me. He’ll squish me like a bug!’
Takada raised one eyebrow mischievously. ‘Trainees must not lie to me,’ he stated. ‘And what’s that English saying? Whatever doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger.’
‘Please be reasonable, sir,’ Paul begged. ‘I’ll run laps, or scrub the corridors. But I’m skinny! I mean, have you seen the size of Luc’s muscles?’
‘Oh yes,’ Takada nodded. ‘He’s very much stronger than you are. But you lied your way out of two days’ training and you’ll repay dishonour with pain and sweat!’
CHAPTER EIGHT
Marc often dreamed about the fall of France. Bombs and bodies flashed through his mind’s eye, but that night stirred fresh memories. A tyre yard had caught fire while he’d been staying in Paris six months earlier. His sore throat and the rubber seal on his oxygen mask triggered the memory of acrid smoke and he kept waking up, clutching his throat and gasping for air.
‘You need to calm down,’ the ward sister told him. ‘You’re safe here.’
But sleep kept taking Marc into the same choking dream. Eventually the sister rolled him on his stomach and injected his backside with a sedative. The next time Marc awoke sunlight blazed through a huge window and his scalded forehead and bandaged right hand seared with pain. His gums had continued to bleed, leaving hardened blood stuck to the roof of his mouth, while his throat felt like it had been rubbed with a cheese grater.
‘Christ,’ Marc croaked, touching his throat with his unbandaged hand as he blinked glueyness out of his eyes.
‘Morning, skipper,’ Henderson said, as Marc coughed. ‘Would you like some water?’
Marc took the glass uncertainly. The water helped his dry mouth, but swallowing was excruciating. He noticed that he’d been moved into a single room, presumably because his nightmares had disturbed the other patients.
‘Can you remember everything?’ Henderson asked.
Marc nodded. ‘Did the fire … I mean, the old man?’
‘The man you rescued is alive, but quite sick. He’s downstairs in a high-dependency ward. The Empire and India club bought it, I’m sorry to say. The fire crew reckoned there were paint cans and linseed oil in the loft. When the incendiary burned through the whole lot exploded.’
Marc nodded. ‘There was a big flash.’
‘We made a human chain and rescued most of the club library and the contents of the wine cellar.’
‘Did you get out OK?’
‘I’m bloody well ashamed of myself,’ Henderson admitted, as he placed a hand on his brow. ‘I was pitifully drunk and had to be helped down the stairs. I didn’t even think of you until we were all across the street in the air-raid shelter.’
‘How’s