Cherub Series: Class A Part 9

'Three hundred and seven quid,' James said.

'You add fast,' Junior said. 'Over three hundred quid's worth of games. That's so cool, we've got to do it again some time.'

'I dunno,' James said. 'I'm not sure if my underwear can take the strain.'

'You're late, James,' Zara said. 'Dinner's nearly ready.'

Kerry and Kyle were sitting at the kitchen table while Zara did frozen lasagne in the oven.

'Sorry,' James said.

'You could have rung us,' Zara said. 'We were all worried.'

Kerry looked up. 'Where were you? I didn't see you at lunchtime.'

'I was around,' James said, defensively.

'So how was school?' Zara asked.

'Oh, you know,' James shrugged. 'Same old, same old. Boring as h.e.l.l.'

Zara wouldn't have minded that he'd bunked off with Junior, but James didn't want her finding out about the shoplifting and the chase. If cherubs steal something, or make money while they're on a mission, they're supposed either to return the goods or donate them to charity. James had no plans to give away five top Playstation games after going through so much exertion stealing them.

'How did you get along with Junior?' Zara asked.

'Really good,' James said. 'He's my sort of person. I reckon we would have ended up mates even if I hadn't tried. Where's Nicole?'

'Doing homework with April Moore and a bunch of other girls,' Kyle said.

'Wow,' James smiled. 'She's a fast worker. How did you two get on with your targets?'

'Erin Moore and her weird friends chucked paper at me and started calling me peg-leg because of my limp,' Kerry said miserably.

'Ringo's a swot,' Kyle said. 'Nice kid, taking his GCSEs very seriously. The thing is, I reckon he's too straight to be involved in his dad's drug business.'

'James,' Kerry said, 'why's there tin foil sticking out of your backpack?'

'What?' James gasped.

Kerry leaned towards the pack. James whipped it away before she got a chance to see inside.

'You've been up to something,' Kerry grinned. 'What's in there?'

'Nothing,' James said, jumping up from the table. 'I better go and um ... I'll give Lauren a call before dinner's ready.'

Kyle and Kerry exchanged looks as James thumped upstairs to his room.

'Tin foil?' Kerry whispered, not wanting Zara to hear.

'Don't ask me,' Kyle shrugged. 'But he's been up to something, that's for sure.'

1 The author of this book would like to point out that the shoplifting technique described here only works with certain outdated security systems. I've got no intention of telling you which ones they are because I don't want angry Dads turning up on my doorstep and kicking my head in because their little darling just got busted trying to nick something from a shop.

10. PUNCH.

It was Friday, after school. James, Kyle, Kerry and Nicole sat on the living-room couches in their school uniforms, drinking cans of c.o.ke. The TV was on but n.o.body was watching.

James looked at Kyle. 'I'm going boxing tonight, with Junior. You wanna come?'

'You in a boxing ring,' Kerry giggled. 'That's something I'd pay money to see.'

James clucked. 'It's training, stupid. They don't make you fight on the first night.'

'I'll pa.s.s on getting punched in the head,' Kyle said. 'I got invited to a party.'

'Oh,' James said. 'Thanks for inviting me.'

'It's Ringo Moore and his mates,' Kyle said. 'Year Ten and Eleven kids. They won't want the likes of you biting their ankles.'

'I'm meeting April at the youth club,' Nicole said. 'The boxing gym is upstairs.'

'So, Kerry,' James said, breaking into a grin. 'I'm going out with Junior Moore tonight. Kyle's partying with Ringo Moore and Nicole's at the youth club with April Moore. What are you and Erin Moore doing?'

'Ha ha, very funny,' Kerry said miserably. 'Erin is the biggest geek. There's this student Spanish teacher.'

'Miss Perez,' James said. 'I've got her as well.'

'That's her,' Kerry said. 'Erin and her little friends wound her up so much, they made her run out of the cla.s.sroom in tears. I felt really sorry for her.'

'Yeah,' James giggled. 'Perez is always crying. My cla.s.s had her bawling three times in one lesson. It was soooo funny.'

Kerry looked mad. 'James, that's horrible. How must that poor woman feel?'

James shrugged. 'Who cares? She's only a teacher.'

'You know what, James?' Kerry snapped. 'Teachers have feelings the same as anyone else.'

'Whatever,' James said. 'I know you're only angry because you can't get on with Erin and you'll probably get your botty kicked off this mission.'

'Oh, shut up, James,' Kerry shouted, putting her palm in front of her face. 'I spend all day stuck in a cla.s.s with a bunch of stupid, noisy morons. I don't want to come home and deal with another one.'

'Touchy touchy,' James giggled.

Kyle gave James a nudge. 'Leave it out, eh?'

James realised he'd overdone it. He was getting a filthy look off Nicole as well.

'Sorry, Kerry,' James said. 'But you were taking the mickey out of me going boxing just a second ago.'

Kerry didn't answer. She just scowled into the bottom of her empty c.o.ke can.

'You don't have to sit here all night watching telly, Kerry,' Nicole said. 'You can come to the youth centre with me if you want.'

'I don't want your pity, Nicole,' Kerry said tersely. 'Our mission briefing says if you can't get on with your target, you should try and get involved in KMG through another kid. So, for your information, I won't be sitting in front of the TV. I'll be at the youth centre with someone tonight, the same as Nicole and Mohammed Ali over there.'

Kerry got off the sofa and stomped up to her room. Kyle reached over and punched James' shoulder.

'What the h.e.l.l was that for?' James asked, furiously.

'Being an insensitive pig,' Kyle said. 'You know what a big deal Kerry makes about being the best at everything.'

'Jesus,' James said, rubbing his arm. 'I was only having a laugh. It's not my fault she's so touchy.'

'Go up and apologise,' Kyle said.

'I better not,' James said. 'She probably wants to be on her own.'

James noticed the look he was getting off Nicole.

'OK then,' James huffed, standing up. 'I'll go and say sorry.'

James went upstairs. Kerry and Nicole's room was at the end of the corridor. As James got closer, he started to bottle it. Kerry had a violent temper and he didn't want to get on the wrong end of it. For the first time ever, James was happy to hear Joshua crying. He leaned into Ewart and Zara's room, making sure they weren't in there, then walked over to the cot and picked the baby up. Joshua rested his head on James' shoulder and changed his bawling to a gentler sucking kind of noise.

'Come on,' James said, rocking Joshua gently. 'Let's find Mummy.'

He went down to the kitchen. Ewart was at the table.

'Cheers for picking him up, James,' Ewart said. 'Zara's just gone down the shop for some bread.'

'Get his bottle warmed up,' James said. 'I'll take him into the living-room. He likes watching the telly.'

Ewart smiled at James. 'Joshua still won't let Kyle or the girls go near him. You know why I think he likes you?'

James shrugged. 'Why?'

'You've got blond hair, the same as me and Zara.'

'Maybe,' James said.

He carried Joshua through and sat next to Nicole on the sofa.

'Look who's here,' Nicole said, grinning and wiggling Joshua's big toe.

Since he'd been on the mission, James had learned something about girls: if you want them to like you, don't worry about buying gifts, or saying the right thing, or where to take them. What you need to do is grab the nearest brat and stick it on your lap. Nicole, who'd been furious at James a few minutes earlier, shuffled up close to him on the couch.

'You know, James,' Nicole beamed, 'some day you're gonna make a really good dad.'

The stairs leading up to the boxing club had signed photos and newspaper cuttings of boxers James had never heard of on the walls. The door at the top of the stairs creaked and James got a nose full of thirty-degree heat and old sweat. About twenty guys were working out. Dark patches on their clothes, lifting weights, punching bags. James felt awkward, imagining they were all sizing him up, estimating how many milliseconds it would take to punch him out.

A ma.s.sive guy stopped a set of crunches and started mopping his bald head with a towel.

'New fish?' he asked, looking at James.

James nodded. 'I um ...'

The guy pointed his thumb. 'You want the back room, with the other kids. Try not to tread on anyone.'

James had to step over gym mats and bar-bells to get through. The back room was bigger, with twenty-odd boys aged between nine and fourteen working out. Two young coaches stood in a ring up the back, mucking about and taking punches off some little kids. James recognised Junior, Del and a couple of guys he'd seen around Thornton estate and at school.

'You Junior's new pal?' a voice asked from behind.

James turned. The guy sat in a plastic chair. He wore tracksuit bottoms and a stained vest. His shoulders were a mat of wiry grey hair. Even though the guy was thirty years past his prime, he still didn't look like a man you wanted to mess with.

'I'm Ken,' the guy growled. 'If you're here for the night, it's fifty pence.'

'Junior said it's cheaper if I get a monthly ticket,' James said.

'Fifty pence for tonight,' Ken said. 'I don't want to rob you. This is too much like hard work for most kids. They don't come through that door more than once or twice. If you're one of the ones who sticks it, I'll take what you've already paid off the monthly pa.s.s.'

James nodded and dug some coins out of his shorts.

'Go see your friend Junior and try to follow what he does,' Ken said. 'You're here to train. That means you don't stand around talking. You don't mess around and you don't make jokes. Any kid starts a fight without my say-so and I'll give the nod to someone who'll make them sorry. You got that?'

James nodded. 'Don't I get coaching or something?'

Ken laughed. 'I sit here with my eyes open. Give it a week or so. Follow what the others do. When I think you're ready, I'll get one of the trainees to start you off with a little sparring.'

James wandered over to Junior.

'Enjoy the lecture?' Junior asked, grinning.

Junior, Del and a couple of other guys trained in a group. Everything was a compet.i.tion: how many push-ups or crunches, how fast you could skip, how many times you could punch the hanging ball in thirty seconds. CHERUB training had made James fit. He could hold his own at everything except skipping, which he'd only ever tried in PE lessons years earlier. Everyone except James got a turn in the ring, either sparring with each other or getting coached by Kelvin and Marcus, the two brutal-looking seventeen-year-olds the club employed as apprentice coaches.

When they were all half-dead, the group piled into the locker room, showered off the sweat and put on fresh clothes. On their way out, Ken blocked James' way with his leg.