Page 168

I was the guest on Innes’s first episode, a couple of weeks after Paris. Everybody wanted a piece of me back then—telly, papers, every MMA channel going. But I made sure there was time for Innes.

The boy knows his stuff, and he’s funny with it too. It’s early days for his podcast, but folk are starting to pay attention.

Davie comes over with the pads under his arm. “Right. Let’s get started, then.”

I finish wrapping my right hand and follow him onto the mats.

“Jab, cross. Nice and light.”

I give him the jab, then the cross. He turns, and I turn with him.

“Elbow’s flaring,” he says.

I tuck it in. Jab, cross.

“Better. Now the hook. Don’t load it.”

I don’t load it. We go like that for a while—him calling, me throwing, him finding fault. Feet too square. Chin. Back hand drifting. The usual. Not a word of praise, and I wouldn’t want one.

“Heard any more from your maw?” he asks, between one combination and the next.

Davie knows about the walk she and I went on back in October. He knows there have been a few emails back and forth too.

“Aye.” Jab, cross. “She sent another email last week.”

“Jab, cross, hook, cross.”

I throw it.

“And how are you feeling about things?”

“Fine.” Hook. “It’s still early days. I’m no making any promises.”

He holds up the pads. I hit them. He moves. I follow.

“I know she wasnae a great mother,” I say. Jab. Cross. “But she was seventeen when she had me.” Hook. “She didnae have a clue what she was doing.”

Another cross. Harder than he asked for. He lets it go.

“And she’s clean now. And at the end of the day, she’s⁠—”

“Your maw,” Davie finishes for me.

“Aye.”

He leaves it there. Calls the next sequence instead.

Behind me, two wee lads from the junior class trot past on their way to the changing rooms, nine or ten at most, both red-faced from their session.

“Hands up, Ryan!” one of them calls. The other one cracks up.

I watched them do a round of drills together earlier, and I was on at them both about dropping their hands. Cheeky wee bugger has just tossed the same advice back at me.

“Aye, very good. Away and get changed, you wee comedians!”

After they’ve walked off, Davie says, “Saw you wi’ those two earlier. You’re good wi’ weans.”

I shrug.