He lashed out with a punch so wild that James easily dropped into a crouch and avoided it. The momentum of Fitzpaine’s swing kept his heavy glove moving, however, so that he was completely off balance and his defence wide open.

James saw his chance; he forced himself up from his crouch, using the full power of his legs, and drove his fist hard into Fitzpaine’s chin. It connected perfectly and whipped the boy’s head back.

Then the crowd was cheering madly and Fitzpaine was staggering backwards, arms groping for balance. He took three increasingly out of control steps before he stumbled and sat down heavily.

He wasn’t knocked out, though. He stood up, spitting blood from his mouth, and shook his head.

He was tough, then, and had no glass jaw. James felt a glimmer of respect for him.

Before anything else could happen, the referee rang the bell. James was sure the round hadn’t run its full length, but he was grateful for the rest.

He went over to Zoltan, who gave him more water.

‘That was a good punch,’ Zoltan said admiringly. ‘I thought he would go down for sure. But you have him now. That will have hurt. It will be hard for him to go on, but you must still keep out of the way of his gloves, or he will finish you.’

‘You don’t have to tell me that,’ said James as he found Perry’s face in the crowd. He had a wide smile on his face. He offered James a thumbs up and that gave him new strength.

The bell clanged and he walked over feeling fresh and ready.

Fitzpaine was really showing the strain now. He was covered in sweat and breathing noisily through his mouth.

‘Come on,’ said James. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

Fitzpaine once again started the first attack, raining blows on to James who managed to keep back far enough to make them land fairly harmlessly. Then he weaved around for a while, tiring Fitzpaine and frustrating him. James knew that when the older boy was angered he made mistakes.

And now Fitzpaine made one; he let both his arms flop down in a gesture of frustration. James powered back with a counter-attack, jabbing Fitzpaine with stinging blows to his ribs in a quick combination of left, right, left, and he completed the assault with a right hook that took the boy in the cheek and sent a spray of spit into the air. But Fitzpaine was quick to retaliate, too quick for James, and he managed to a land a lucky blow to his gut.

James gasped as the air was pumped out of his lungs and he felt like he was going to be sick. For a moment his vision darkened and black spots swam in front of his eyes. He was fighting for breath, his head spinning, and had to stop himself from panicking.