Anima Effect: Dawn of Awareness

By John Bacon

Not knowing what Paula has in store on the journey of her life, she wittingly unravels herself to face each obstacle that she has to face just to survive. Being a detective agent allows her to gain more access to its core. But will this help her solve several cases? Or will she be the case?

Find out as she gets tangled in the mysterious world of crime investigation and how her abilities helped her get through and solve the crime just in the nick of time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Aug 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781496995360

John Bacon

Alone in the Canadian wilderness in the 1620's, after her father's death; Ruth has to learn how to survive. During the first winter she befriends a wolf and gives him the name of Zak. She soon has a pack of wolves, and learns to hunt with them. Contact with the local Indians brings with it communication problems. Because she has a pack of wolves, the Indian's give her the name Jaga na Kala - Mother of Wolves. When trappers murder one of the Indians she has to determine which of three trappers caused the death of one of the Indians.

Book preview

Chapter 1

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T HREE MINUTES INTO THE FIGHT, Paula Mathews believed her opponent was starting a series of feigns which, if she were right, would end with a scoring blow to the left side of her body. A blow, which if delivered with power could damage her kidney. It was a reasonable assumption for her to take; that particular attack was one of his favourite moves. While blocking the series of blows, designed to remove the guard from her left side, Paula planned her own attack. Instead of the expected scoring strike, which she was still able to block and then follow up with her own attack; her opponent swept her feet from beneath her. In an automatic reaction to falling, her arms flew out striking the mat firmly as she broke her fall.

It had been a good contest; Paula had fought long and hard. Although she had lost, she was pleased with the way she had performed. Breathing heavily she got to her feet; then taking a moment or two to adjust the jacket of her judogi she turned to face Peter Queen. Looking him straight in the eyes, she placed the palms of her hands on her thighs and bowed her head towards him. He too was out of breath, ‘Well done,’ he said after returning her bow. ‘Thank you for a good match; there were times when I thought you might win; it will not be long before you do.’

Bare foot and dressed in a white judo suit with a black belt around her waist Paula stood a little over five foot ten; slightly taller than most girls. Her naturally wavy dark-brown hair, which she kept on the short side of shoulder length, was ruffled and unkempt after the evening at the club. Despite being dressed in a judo suit, it was all too easy to see that her body was trim and perfectly proportioned. Her facial features were attractive with brown eyes and dark pupils. Her height, figure and looks gave her a stunning appearance as she returned to her position at the end of the line along one side of the mat.

Her contest, with the club’s senior black belt, was the last of the evening; Paula stood there waiting for the rest to stand. When everyone was ready, she stepped forward. As she bowed in the direction of the club’s senior black belt, the rest of the line followed her example bringing the evening to an end in a formal manner.

Peter Queen was a good six foot; he wore his dark brown hair shorter than a crew cut though not completely shorn. He tugged his jacket down, ‘Thank you for coming this evening,’ he said as he began his usual end of evening chat. ‘That was a good evening; you’ve all worked hard. There are no notices or anything like that, so see you next week.’

The martial art school, her club was affiliated to, covered several aspects of Chinese martial arts. Those arts involving weapons were not supposed to be taught to students who had not reached first dan; below that rank, a person was expected to learn a combination of throws and blows, similar to a blend of judo and karate, and normally referred to as open hand.

The sports council and even some other martial arts associations did not recognise the school to which Paula belonged. Despite the lack of recognition by others, country wide, even worldwide, her school had a large number of members, and there were the oaths she had taken when she had formally obtained her white belt. At the time, they sounded strange and rather pointless. She made a large number of promises, repeating what Peter Queen had said. A statement that she would suffer death by a myriad of swords, or come to some other gruesome end if she broke them, followed each promise. It was tradition, each member of the club took the oaths and in Paula’s mind, it gave a direct link back to the original Chinese warrior monks. She also liked the fact it was full contact, covered several of the arts and did not separate her out because she was a girl, in fact smaller and lighter people often had the advantage.

Unlike many martial arts schools, where the senior black belt of a club could award a person the next grade when they were able to perform particular moves, in her school it was necessary to win at least three, out of five contests, beating those who also wished to advance to a higher grade. This was the reason why the club’s evenings ended with a series of contests. These series of matches started with a contest between the two lowest grades with the winner remaining on the mat all the time they continue to win.

The first time Paula joined the line, she lost to an ippon before she had started. After a few weeks, she managed to obtain one or two koka; not that she won the contest but at least she had managed a few poor moves. When, several months later, she managed to remain on the mat and beat a couple of yellow belts one with ippon the other with two waza-ari Peter Queen told her to go in for her first belt contest, which she did.

For four years, Paula had continued to attend the martial arts club in South Street. A natural, right from the start; she worked hard and over the years, attended several grade meetings as she advanced through the various belts. Last year she had once again gone to Brighton. It had been a hard weekend; not only were there the contests to win, she also had to demonstrate her knowledge of kata, a series of defined moves. She made it, and since then she had worn a black belt.

The school did not separate men from women. From the very start, she knew and accepted she would have to fight male contestants. Over the years, Paula had learnt to turn the male’s strength against them. The large, muscle-bound type was not a problem to her; it was the small lean guy, who could move quickly, she treated with respect. In randori, Paula gave no quarter and expected none in return. Men on the other hand were not so keen to lose to a girl, particularly at belt contests. As she advanced though the various levels she had met and made friends with those from other clubs and had earned their respect.

With the evening’s formalities completed, those there started to chat amongst themselves as they made their way towards the changing rooms. Having changed and with her kit in a bag slung over her shoulder, Paula set off, on foot, towards the station. From there she would be able to catch a bus to Old Town, one of the areas in the town, and the one in which she had a flat in a converted house.

Paula often dressed in black slacks with a black imitation leather jacket over a white T-shirt or blouse; this evening was no exception. Not only did she think it looked smart it emulated the female protagonists in films and on TV. Martial arts had become part of her self-image, but it was not just a matter of image. In addition to the martial arts club, she would go to the local sports centre at least once a week where after thirty or so minutes exercising on the weight training machines she would have a swim. Add to that running five to eight miles over the Southdown’s on a regular basis and you have someone who took keeping fit seriously.

Almost home with her supper, Paula turned the corner into Victoria Drive. Trees lined many of the roads in Eastbourne, Victoria Drive was no exception and in addition to the trees there was a grass verge on each side of the road.

Her flat occupied the ground floor on the left-hand-side of a large house. Entry to the other two flats was via the original front door; however, Paula had her own entrance at the side of the house, through what use to be the backdoor. Situated in a small red brick porch with red tiles on the floor, the backdoor opened directly into the kitchen. In the past, the kitchen had been a much larger room but now the bathroom occupied some of that space. The kitchen had several units below and above the work surface, a sink, cooker and fridge-freezer, nothing out of the ordinary. A door situated a foot or so away from the backdoor and in the same wall, led to a small hall. A window into the porch, which let light into the hall, had a full-length net curtain, with a fancy bottom, hanging over it. At the end of the hallway were two doors facing each other; the one on the left was the bathroom the other led to the living room.

The front room, originally a large reception room, now consisted of two rooms. The larger of these rooms was Paula’s living room. It had a small two-seater couch, with one matching armchair, a low table with the television on it, a wall unit with a few books; in the centre and in front of the couch was a low coffee table. The bay window, which had been in the centre of the original room, was now on the right, in this area stood a small dining room table with four chairs. An archway in a dividing wall gave access to the bedroom. This smaller area has a double bed pushed into the far corner. A wardrobe and chest of draws were at the foot end of the bed with a small dressing table against the dividing wall. At best, there was only four feet between the end of the bed and the other furniture or the side of the bed and the dressing table. Within a week of moving in, Paula had hung a bead curtain over the archway so that there was a greater separation of the bedroom from the living room.

Paula put her supper on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen in order to make herself a coffee. For what remain of that evening, she relaxed in front of the television.

The following day Paula put her jacket on and with a small backpack set off for a bus stop in Green Street, not far from the Tally-Ho and only a short walk from her flat. At the other end of the journey, she had a slightly longer walk along Lottbridge Drove and then round the industrial estate to the factory.

Paula worked in the office of an engineering company, with Jennifer Davies, a middle-aged woman, who for all practical purposes was her boss. The factory employed twenty or so toolmakers and produced one off engineering parts, usually of metal. There was always a smell of cut metal on the shop floor. Paula’s job was to take the orders, raise the necessary paperwork and ensure the correct drawings were in the package so the toolmakers could produce the item. When a new order came in, she would take it to the shop floor manager, one of the partners, to get a quote. Often a customer would go to Jim directly; he would then bring her the estimate along with the drawings. She would add the rest of the paper work to the package before sending it to the shop floor. She also had to ensure the invoice for each job went out and if necessary chase up payment.

Friday was an easy day, unless there was a rush job or something had gone wrong, everyone packed up at mid-day. Even if there was a rush job it rarely affected her. That morning Mrs Davies wanted Paula to chase up the payment of several late invoices. Having spent most of the morning on the phone at mid-day, her week was over, and she was already thinking of the coming evening with a couple of her friends. At five past one, Paula went to the toilet and changed into her tracksuit; it was a nice day and the run home followed by a long, hot, shower would put her in a good mood for the coming evening.

At the most, if she ran along the sea front, through Meads then round Paradise Drive, past the golf course, ending up approaching Victoria Drive along Summerfield Road, it would be four maybe five miles. However, the journey back home could be under three miles if she took the most direct route using all the short cuts. She did not always run back to her flat it depended on how she felt and of course the weather. Today was sunny with a light breeze and she had decided on the long route.

Chapter 2

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P AULA REACHED THE BUS STOP in Terminus Road before her two friends. She wore a light jacket over a light blue, figure hugging dress with a hem an inch or so above her knee and a mid-calf slit. While she waited, Paula walked back and forth looking in various shop windows. Her two friends, Pat and June, lived in the Langley area of town; when she saw the bus from that area arrive Paula walk towards the bus stop. She greeted them warmly then all three of them set off along Terminus Road towards the seaf ront.

The end of the pier was a popular place for young people out for a good evening, and during the summer, holidaymakers swelled the numbers. The three of them joined up with three guys, one of whom Pat knew, and had a very enjoyable evening. When the disco finished all six of them set off back down the pier. Pat was talking to Jim the guy she knew, June was trying hard to interest Pete, which left Paula walking beside a pleasant looking guy called John.

The night’s air was cool with only a light breeze. The lights, strung between each lamppost along the seafront were reflected in the sea doubling their effect. Even though it was late, just after one in the morning, no one was in a hurry. John took his mobile phone out wanting to know Paula’s number, telling her he would give her a call during the week. Paula did not object to letting him have her number; her first impression of him was a good one and the possibility of meeting him again and getting to know him better met with her approval. With her number saved in his phone, he called her, Paula let her phone ring; after it rang for a second time John slid his phone closed ending the call. ‘I’ll save it later,’ Paula said as John put his phone back in his pocket.

‘Guys,’ Peter said on seeing a drunk a little further along the pier with a bottle in his hand. He was pestering a couple as they tried to get past him; they managed it with the drunk shouting after them.

‘Keep well over to the side Pete,’ John suggested.

‘I’m surprised he can still stand up,’ Paula said, commenting on the state of the drunk.

The six of them managed to get past with nothing more than a stream of abuse being directed towards them. Paula was about to speak to John when he lurched forward. ‘You too shtuck up to shtalk!’ the drunk shouted at John, his voice slurred. Paula turned quickly aware John was moving towards the drunk. Her left arm went out across John’s chest. ‘Let him be,’ Paula said, and then added, ‘come on.’ To her relieve John turned away from the drunk.

The next target of the drunk was Paula herself; he pushed her in the back, much as he had John. Paula turned. ‘Look go away, go home and sleep it off,’ she told the drunk. By this time, the three men had become fed-up with the drunk and wanted to put an end to it. ‘Let him be,’ Paula said as she looked towards Peter.

Paula turned to walk away when she noticed June’s expression change, ‘Watch out!’ she screamed out at Paula.

Forewarned Paula turned and managed to duck the wild swing; the beer bottle missing her by a decent margin. Paula stuck a foot out. The drunk was already off balance, the simple leg sweep tipped him over the edge sending him crashing down onto the paving of the pier. A drunk, always lands without a great deal of harm, this one was no exception. Paula looked down at him as she stepped back, ‘It’s okay John he missed me,’ Paula said, ‘Come on,’ she added having seen the drunk try to get but only managing to get halfway up before he fell over again.

The six of them made the entrance to the pier without further incidents and stood in the queue waiting for a taxi. June and Pat lived at the opposite end of the town to Paula and were going to share a taxi home. When their taxi arrived, June and Pat said good-bye and got in. As the taxi drove off Jim and Pete said they were going to walk home and set off across the road. It left Paula standing with John who lived in Ocklynge Road not far from Paula’s flat; they were going to share a taxi.

As no one had spoken at the time, Paula believed she had managed to deal with the drunk without anyone noticing she had taken his legs out from under him, but as the taxi passed the station, John commented on it. ‘He was pissed out of his skull,’ Paula responded.

‘You made it look as if he fell over, but his legs didn’t half fly up in the air; crump, down he went. That was a neat move.’

‘He was too drunk to even get up.’

‘He’ll get lifted by the police if they spot him.’

It did not take long to reach her flat. Paula thanked John as she got out of the cab, which had stopped at the end of the path leading to her door. He responded by telling her he would give her a call during the week.

Saturday morning Paula woke and yawned. Saturday was her day for tidying up the flat, doing her laundry and getting the shopping she required for the coming week. After a morning coffee, Paula got on with the work so that Sunday could be a day of leisure and, weather permitting, she would go for a run on the hills. By early afternoon, she was sitting on the sofa with a coffee and a book about the spiritual side of martial arts. She had several book on Chinese martial arts; the one on the spiritual aspects of the art was a translation from an old Chinese book published in the seventeen forties. The book was very similar to another one she had on Raja Yoga. She had been diving into it on and off for the last couple of years, reading a chapter or two and doing some of the mental exercises and for three or four months would work at it, then she would put it to one side and forget about it for a while.

The book intrigued her; it suggested one could sense where one’s opponent was by using one’s inner being or spirit. More fancifully, it went on to say someone skilled in the use of their spirit could see the colours of a person’s spirit, and from those colours, it was possible to deduce their frame of mind. The book suggested that by using this knowledge it was easier to overcome an adversary. The thought that her inner being or spirit could help her win a contest was tantalising. Paula decided to have another try and to do the mental exercises the book recommended in order to develop and discipline her mind.

It took her a couple of days to once again find the state of mind where she could, while laying on her bed, have her spirit, stand up and looked at herself lying on the bed. It wasn’t until Wednesday of the following week before she could have her spirit walk into the living room. She told herself it was training her mind, and because she knew what was in the living room she could, in the dreamlike trance, imagine she could see the living room.

Thursday, while Paula was getting her kit ready in order to go to the club, John called her wanting to know if she would like to go out on Saturday rather than Friday. Please he had called, she agreed.

Being the clubs only other black belt Paula normally warm up on a smaller side mat leaving Peter to take the rest through their warm up exercises. This evening was no exception; Paula warmed up and stretched each muscle then started to perform single katas, moving from one to the next in a series of choreographed movements. She closed her eyes concentrating on balance and the exact position of her body, arms and legs. She started to put more effort into it, attacking an imaginary foe with increasing ferocity, all the time Paula maintaining an intense concentration on the position and movement of her body.

Standing on the toes of a single foot she jumped lashed out with the other leg as she spun ending up in the same position balancing on the toes of a single leg. She repeated it several times, concentration on her balance, before relaxing and opening her eyes.

‘That was quite impressive,’ Peter said, ‘would you now like to join us on the main mat.’

‘Sorry, got carried away,’ Paula responded as she left the mat.

‘Looked good, I like watching you do kata; you should develop it a bit more; find a partner to pair up with.’

Peter wanted Paula to teach a couple of green and a blue belt some of the katas they would need to know for their next belt. One of the clubs brown belts was there to help her and let her demonstrate the katas which involved two people. It was the accuracy of each movement, the judges paid attention to when assessing kata, and when it involved two people both had to carry out their part correctly. Paula liked kata, to her, it was almost like dancing without music, and if everything went well and both people were in the right position at the right time it left her feeling good, no matter which part she took.

‘You will have to perform this kata at your belt assessment,’ she explained to the three of them. ‘It is almost certain that they will ask you to. Normally you will be assessed as tori; the one that makes the scoring move. Don’t, however, only learn that role; you will be asked to be uke so others can perform the kata, and may be assessed on your performance as uke,’ she added before using the brown belt to show, in slow motion, the moves of the kata. Explaining every move as she carried out each step of the kata. Then she let them have a go, talking them through it as they learnt how to perform the kata.

Friday evening Paula lay on her bed and relaxed so that her mind could concentrate on her spirit. She had carried out the exercise of having her spirit stand up, turn round and looking at her body several times; it was not difficult. Suddenly, she sat up breathing in gasps; her heart was beating hard and fast. Paula looked at her trembling hands; it had never been like that before. For a while, she sat on the edge of the bed while she settled down. Having calmed down, with her heart no longer trying to burst out of her chest Paula was able to consider what had happened. The experience had been completely different to any pervious occasion; everything had been so real, so much so that it had frightened her.

Saturday evening arrived and Paula was ready long before John reached the flat. The evening went well; he took her for a meal in an Italian restaurant not far from the theatres. The meal was nice and they ended up walking back to her flat; they kissed several times at the end of the path leading to her flat before she invited him in for a coffee. ‘It is just a coffee,’ Paula said as she unlocked the door.

She took John through to the living room before returning to the kitchen in order to make the coffees. When she returned to the living room, a mug in both hands, he was looking at the medals and a small cup she had on a shelf of the wall unit.

‘I was just looking at your trophies,’ he said, turning his head in her direction.

‘The cup was last year, I’ll have to hand it back soon.’

‘Will you win it again?’

‘No that is for tan belts; I’m first dan now, can’t even enter. Peter, the chap who runs the club, will probably have me helping him judge them. It’s for kata; it’s quite good actually because even if you are one of the lower belts you can still win if you do your kata better than the others, even if they are a higher grade and do a more complex kata.’

‘Dan; you’re a black belt!’ John exclaimed.

‘Got it last year; I won the cup in the clubs competition night, before I got my black belt.’

‘What is kata; it says here that it was for single kata.’

‘That’s a Japanese term, there’s a lot of mixing of the two. I said dan but it should be daun if you stick with the Chinese term. We use ippon as well it means point. Single kata is a bit like shadow boxing, except the moves and position of the body, legs, feet and arms are all defined. Some katas are quite complex with many moves, others are not so demanding,’

‘Interesting,’ he said reaching out for his coffee. ‘Do you get a decent number attending the club?’ John asked.

‘We are not exactly overwhelmed,’ Paula responded.

‘Thank you,’ John said taking a sip of his coffee.

Paula nodded towards the armchair as she sat down on the small couch. ‘What do you do?’ she asked looking towards John.

‘Me, I’m trying to become a reporter, I work on the local paper and am doing a media course over in Brighton.’

‘For television,’ Paula responded.

‘No, no definitely not; I like the idea of print media. The internet interests me; I see it as a different form of print. You write it up and submit it, except with the internet you can be out there without having to get it past the editor.’ John explained.

Paula watched as he got up and came across to the couch where he sat down putting his coffee on the low table. His kiss was gentle and his hand on the side of her breast felt pleasant, but when it started to explore a little too much Paula sat back. ‘Drink your coffee; you need to cool down a bit.’

‘Sorry,’ John responded as he moved back a little.

‘It’s okay, just don’t rush.’

‘I’ll have to feed you more white wine and soda.’

‘You’ll stand no chance if you do,’ Paula responded laughing as she did.

‘Yea; your trophies would suggest I best behave,’ John said with a huge grin on his face.

Paula liked his smile; she liked him and certainly didn’t want to put him off. His idea of an evening out was very much the same as hers. Even last week in the disco on the pier, he hadn’t drunk a great deal, three of four beers at the most. ‘You will have to come to the club on Thursday; then you will know what I get up to.’

‘I might do that; I could come and collect you if you want, as long as you don’t look too closely at my car, it’s a bit of a banger, but it goes and does for me.’

After a few kisses at the back door John left; having made arrangements to pick her up at quarter to seven the following Thursday. Paula closed the door and locked it. The evening had been enjoyable and she was looking forward to seeing John again.

Sunday proved to be a complete failure, Paula spend a lot of time trying to repeat the experience of a few days ago, but was unable to achieve it. She read the same chapter in the book several times between attempts, but no matter how hard she concentrated the sense of reality she had obtained on Friday eluded her.

It was pouring with rain on Thursday, Paula stood beside the table in the bay window watching for a car to arrive pleased she would not be walking from the station to the club in the rain. John arrived just after a quarter to seven. She was ready at the door by the time he reached the porch, her bag over her shoulder and the keys in her hand.

‘You’re ready then,’ John said as he quickly ducked into the porch in order to get out of the rain.

‘Saw you arrive,’ Paula replied as she locked the door.

‘It’s pissing down,’ he said as he looked out of the porch at the sky.

‘I noticed,’ Paula responded before they dashed down the path towards John’s car. During the journey, Paula sat in the passenger seat watching the windscreen wipers going back and forth, holding her bag on her knees. ‘It’s South Street you want,’ she told John as they approached the junction at the start of the town centre.

‘I know where,’ he responded, then added, ‘what I’ll do is drop you off then find somewhere to park.’

Paula had changed by the time John arrived with a bag over his shoulder. His hair was wet and water was dripping from his jacket. ‘It came down even harder, I’m soaked!’

‘You might find a couple of paper towels in the gents, it’s down there,’ Paula told him pointing in the direction of the changing rooms.

‘I’ll go and find out.’

Peter came across to her before he brought the others together for their warm up. ‘Was that a new member you’ve found?’

‘He came to find out what we do here, I don’t think he will join the club.’

‘Pity we could do with a few more. ‘Boyfriend is he?’

‘Sort of, we’re not really boyfriend, girlfriend yet, if you know what I mean.’

‘I get the idea; better get things moving here.’

‘I’ll warm up here and then do a few katas.’

‘You do that I’ll call you over when we are ready. Bill won’t be here tonight so it’s just the two of us and maybe Brian.’

After warming up, Paula thought she would try a few of the katas, using a wooden sword. She went to the side of the hall and the locker, which held the club’s equipment. Selecting the best wooden sword, which was supposed to be balanced like a real sword. Back on the mat, she started to swing the sword around getting used to it and finding the point of balance, then concentrating she started the moves of the second set of closed hand kata, it was the set she liked the most.

The flash of light immediately broke her concentration; she had seen it even though she had closed her eyes. She froze, the wooden sword pointing directly at John. He sensed something was wrong. ‘Sorry, I wanted… sorry,’ he said lowering the camera.

Paula relaxed, ‘You should have warned me; can’t you do it without flash, it broke my concentration. Peter will also complain if you do that too many times.’

‘Sorry.’

‘It would be best if you ask Peter before taking any more, he will probably say it’s okay, but my guess is he will not want you to use flash it’s not a good idea you could distract someone at the wrong moment.’

‘Okay I’ll not use it.’

Paula returned to the centre of the mat. Knowing John was watching her she felt self-conscious and found it difficult to concentrate. She started to listen to the noise of the sword passing through the air; it let her forget about John and as she did, her concentration returned, her movements became smoother, and her balance improved. She ended a small routine with the sword in her right hand as if it were a walking aid, having just struck a foe to her right. She relaxed to find Peter and John standing there watching her; John was staring at her wide-eyed. It was Peter who spoke. ‘You’re definitely going to have to teach the others that.’

‘They will have to be a dan first,’ Paula responded well aware that closed hand katas should only taught to someone once they had reached black belt.

‘Well in theory yes, but it wouldn’t hurt to get them started. I would love to see you do the katas with a real sword. Ready now?’

‘Yea,’ Paula responded.

That evening John took a lot of pictures; he was ready with his camera when they formed the line and took several pictures of each contest. It was soon going to be her turn against Brian the only brown belt there that evening.

Having stepped onto the mat, Paula bowed towards Brian before going into a defensive position ready to meet him in contest. When moving forward she carried out a few attacking blows which she expected to be blocked. She knew where he would next attack; they had fought every week for at least a year and she knew him well. The idea of beating him with a feint, to attack and then back off, crossed her mind. She felt sure Brian would move towards her. She attacked moving forward then took two steps back, she knew where he would be, her foot reached out behind her as she turned her back on him striking him in the centre of his chest. Peter called ippon.

Between her contest with Brian and the coming one with Peter Paula relaxed knowing she would have a harder task with Peter. Brian took the mat and called them together. Paula bowed towards Peter then took a step back.

The contest had been going on for maybe two minutes, Paula became more confident, she was, without fully realising it, making Peter do all the work and he was starting to tire. She could sense it, he wasn’t moving as lightly or quickly as he usually did. He was slowing down but he was attacking and she had to make sure her defence was watertight. Thoughts flashed through her mind; would he fall for the same attack she had used on Brian? No, he was better than that, but then if she used that as a feint he would be going backwards she could use the momentum of her leg to jump, spin and strike with the other foot it was one of the katas. She started a series of attacks knowing Peter would block all of them. He attacked but she refused to be back off instead she blocked his blow and made her move driving him back then backed off without him forcing her to give ground.

The first strike with her foot met nothing but thin air. Expecting it to fail she was not at a disadvantage or off balance having missed a major attack. She landed on the toes of one foot. Peter was now moving forward expecting her to be off balance having failed to make contact. Paula jumped using the momentum she had generated and spun in the air. As she did the leg, she had been standing on, whipped round. Her foot hit his chest harder than it should have. It knocked him off his feet taking him over backwards. ‘Ippon!’ Brian called out, even