But this time he wasn’t dealing with a girl. Probably he hadn’t had a great deal of trouble in handling Gracie, but he was going to have some trouble handling me.
I caught hold of his thumbs and bent them back. I heard him catch his breath in a gasp of pain. He jerked his thumbs out of my grip only because I let him, and as he straightened up I clouted him on the side of the head with a round-house swing that sent him away from me with a grunt of anguish.
I was half up, with my fingers touching the floor, as he launched himself at me again. I could just make out his dim form in the darkness as he came, and I lurched towards him. We met with a crash like a couple of charging bulls. He reeled back, and I socked him in the belly: a goingaway punch that hadn’t the beef to put him down, but that brought the wind out of him like the hiss of a punctured tyre.
At the back of my mind I could see that screwed-up figure in the soiled blue nightdress hanging on the back of the bathroom door, and it made me mad. I kept moving in, belting him with right and left punches, not always landing, but taking good care when they did land they’d hurt. I took one bang on the side of the jaw that sent my head back, but it wasn’t hard enough to stop me.
He was gasping for breath now, and backing away as fast as he could. I had to stop throwing punches, because I lost sight of him. I could only hear his heavy breathing, and guess he was somewhere just ahead of me. For a moment or so we stood in the darkness, trying to see each other, listening and watching for any sudden move.
I thought I could just make out a shadow in the darkness about a yard to my left, but I wasn’t sure. I stamped my foot, and the shadow swerved away like a scared cat. Before he could cover his balance, I jumped in, and my fist caught him on the side of his neck. The impact sounded like a cleaver driving into a hunk of beef.
He gave a wheezing gasp, fell over on his back, scrambled up and backed away. He now seemed very anxious to break up the meeting and go home. I dived forward to finish him, in- stead, my foot landed on a rotten plank that gave under me and I came down with a crash that shook the breath out of me.
He had me cold then, but he wasn’t interested. All he could think of was getting home.
He bolted for the door.
I struggled to get up, but my foot was firmly held in the rotten flooring. I caught a glimpse of a tall, broad-shouldered figure outlined in the dimness of the doorway; then it vanish-ed.