Faded Glory

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

IT was almost like Danny had wings as he ran back to the house after his morning jog in the grey, drizzly light. Wendy and Ruby were taking a late-morning nap, so as quietly as possible, he took a shower. As the warm water cascaded over him, he thought of the night ahead, and his rendezvous with the Dragon.

Patsy and Albert’s words went round and round in his head. Keep your distance. Don’t get involved in a brawl. Use your reach advantage. Keep moving.

Showered and changed, he sat down to re-watch the old footage of the Dragon’s past fights, on a fairly ancient projector that Albert had borrowed from his downstairs neighbour Simon. Once again, Danny analysed any possible weaknesses in the fighter’s armour. He could see very few. The power of the Dragon’s punches was formidable. His nerves were tingling as he watched his opponent floor a worthy contender. “Keep moving” was the answer. “Keep your distance” was definitely the tactic.

Ruby woke up. Turning the projector off at the sound of her gentle cry, Danny went upstairs. A tired but happy Wendy was changing the baby’s nappy. Danny had mastered a few nappy changes, but lacked the expertise of fixing the safety pin without a struggle. His nappy prowess was no match for the baby’s adoring mother.

Standing there watching his wife and daughter put everything into perspective for Danny. It reminded him of the importance of succeeding in this quest for a secure future for the two people he loved the most.

Nappy changed, Danny took Ruby in his arms.

“She smiled at me,” he said.

“It’s probably wind,” Wendy replied.

“No, she definitely smiled at me,” insisted Danny.

Wendy gave him a concerned look. “Are you feeling OK?”

Danny handed Ruby back and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension. “I just want to get on with it,” he said. “Get it over with.”

“Be careful, won’t you?” said Wendy as she cradled Ruby against her shoulder. “We love you, don’t let him hurt you.”

Danny’s eyes filled with loving tears. It felt so safe to be here in their little room, safe from the battle to come, safe from the cuts, bruises and hostility. Part of him just wanted to stay here, cocooned with the people he loved. But, like his father before him, he knew he had to go into battle with his head held high and a brave heart beating in his chest.

“Don’t you worry,” he said. “It’s gonna be all right. I’ll tell you all about it when I come home.”

There would be life after this ordeal. It was a good thought. For months his focus had been on the fight and his powerful opponent. Now, knowing that his family would be waiting for him after the fight, Danny felt not only a sense of purpose, but a sense of security.

The Humber Hawk pulled up outside at six o’clock on the dot. Danny looked through the window at the car, and his boxing family waiting inside on the plush leather seats, and with a belly full of butterflies, kissed Ruby and Wendy a meaningful goodbye.

“Don’t look so worried,” he said, holding Wendy close. “It’s time to be positive now. I’m going into battle for the people I love, and I’m gonna win. All right?”

As Danny got into the Humber Hawk’s back seat, he could see Wendy and Ruby at the bay window of the house. Wendy was waving Ruby’s tiny hand as if she was waving goodbye. He blew them both a final kiss and the car moved off.

“How you feeling?” asked Albert.

“He’s feeling good ain’t he, ’cos he’s gonna slay the Dragon,” said the optimistic Lenny. “Just like St George, ain’t it?”

Danny was relieved that Lenny had answered for him. At that moment, he wasn’t really sure what he was feeling. He knew he had a job to do, and he had trained and worked hard for this moment, but there was still a part of him that wished he could just stay with Wendy and the baby, safe and secure and away from the battle to come.

The drive to Bethnal Green was dream-like. Danny watched the streets pass by without really seeing them, his mind well and truly on the coming fight.

The traffic was beginning to build as they turned into the street to York Hall. The fight fans were starting to arrive. The reality of all these people paying to watch and the lines of fight fans waiting outside the hall scared Danny more than he’d expected.

Patsy patted his shoulder. “Look at that, Danny,” he said. “They have all come to see you win.”

Danny nodded, his mouth dry, his hands ice cold, resisting the urge to come back with “Maybe they have come to see me lose.” Right now, that was what he was feeling.

They got through the milling crowd and the car made its way to the back entrance and the changing rooms. A small gathering of fight fans waited for an autograph or a photo, and Danny obliged, before Tony Costa scooped him up and led the way to his room.

In the hall, fight night was well under way, with the first scheduled contest already in progress. Danny had not wanted to arrive too early, as sitting and waiting was a recipe to stir up nerves and too much time to think was dangerous. But Patsy knew best. They all needed a little time in this place to properly prepare, and focus was important.

Costa was almost too upbeat. “It’s gonna be a night to remember, Danny boy,” he said jubilantly. “Every ticket sold out weeks ago, how about that?”

If this was meant to cheer Danny up, it didn’t. It only seemed to bring on the nervous gravity of the occasion.

“The boy needs some time, Tommy,” said Patsy, ushering Costa out of the room. “We’ll see you out there, all right?”

Costa reluctantly left and Danny’s warm-up began. Hitting pads and skipping ropes, Albert reminded Danny of tactics while Patsy worked on his confidence.

“You’re looking sharp, son. You’re moving well. Keep going, that’s it, that’s good.”

The Watson-Davies fight was top of the bill. Patsy was bandaging Danny’s hands in readiness when the fight official came in.

“Ten minutes please, gentlemen.”

A flow of adrenalin shot through Danny’s veins. He sought reassurance from his father’s medal, which he had placed inside his sports bag, taking it out and turning it over in his fingers.

“You’re gonna win this,” said Lenny. “Make your father proud. Go well, I’ll see you after.”

The official returned as Lenny headed out to find his ringside seat. “Time to go,” he said in a matter-of-fact way.

Danny kissed the medal for bravery and followed Albert and Patsy into the crowded auditorium.

Cohen had laid on a bit of showbiz for the gladiators’ entrances, with spotlights blazing and fanfares sounding. The crowd rose to its feet to greet them. As the lesser-known and the undoubted underdog, Danny entered first. “Danny! Danny!” echoed around the hall as he walked with Albert and Patsy through the crowd, flanked by security men.

Danny and Patsy entered the ring. Albert stood by Danny’s corner. Danny went through some shadow-boxing moves and waited for the Dragon’s entrance. He didn’t have to wait for long.

“Dragon! Dragon! Dragon!”

In the Dragon came, led on by a Welsh flag held high by one of his entourage. The noise of the crowd rose in a deafening crescendo as Davies, his trainer and cut-man bounced into the ring.

The referee called both fighters together.

“A nice clean fight, no holding, eight four-minute rounds, clear?”

Danny heard the instructions, but was intent on looking the Dragon straight in the eye. He was not going to be intimidated like at the weigh-in.

But this time Danny saw a different look in the ageing warrior’s eyes. The cockiness had gone. In its place there was a flicker of guilt, a look of resigned sadness.

The boxers returned to their corners. With a few last words of encouragement, the announcement of “Seconds out!” rattled the speakers in the smoke-filled room and, with a roar from the crowd, the battle commenced.

Danny did as he was instructed, keeping a good distance from the Dragon and using his longer reach. But the explosion of violence from the Dragon that Danny and his camp had expected was more like a damp squib.

Round one went by without much drama. Danny landed a few jabs and the Dragon hit Danny with a decent body shot. Honours were even as the fighters felt each other out.

Round two was more of the same. Danny felt surprised at the Dragon’s lack of aggression. The crowd, who had paid good money to watch some decent action, were beginning to get restless.

“Time to change tactics,” Patsy said in the break between rounds two and three. “Stop back-pedalling now and go on the offensive, all right? We need this fight to catch fire.”

Danny settled in his gum shield as the bell for round three rang out. He went straight on the offensive, pushing the Dragon round the ring with a barrage of quick jabs. The Dragon answered back with a few wayward haymakers that were easy for Danny to avoid. The crowd were becoming more and more frustrated by the lack of action, and a few boos began to resonate around the room.

At the end of round three, Patsy and Albert were right in Danny’s face.

“You’re ahead Danny, keep it going!” said Albert.

“Yeah, same again!” said Patsy.

Round four started. Now on the front foot, Danny was definitely the aggressor, and the Dragon was backing off, dropping his guard and bouncing off the ropes. Danny pushed forward, relentlessly forcing his opponent into his own corner. It looked like the Dragon was indeed struggling, when a straight right from Danny hit him fair and square, smack on the chin.

The Dragon went down like a pack of cards.

“One, two, three, four…” the referee counted as the Dragon lay still on the canvas.

The crowd, who had initially greeted the knock-down with stunned surprise, started getting vocal. Amid the cheers from Danny’s followers were boos of derision from most of the rest.

“…eight, nine, ten!” counted the ref.

That was it. Danny had beaten the ex-champ, knocking him out for the very first time in his illustrious career.

There was joy in the ring. Albert and Patsy lifted Danny on to their shoulders. Lenny clambered into the ring to celebrate.

But in the hall, pandemonium had broken loose. Boos were ringing out, chairs were being thrown. The Dragon’s followers were frustrated and angry because of the lack of fight in their man.

The referee lifted Danny’s arm. “And the winner is… Danny Watson!”

A mass of derision and boos greeted the decision. The crowd’s reaction confused Danny. He’d won fair and square. He had knocked out the legendary Dragon.

“What’s all this about?” he shouted at Patsy as the noise level continued to rise. “I won, didn’t I?”

“They’re just bad losers,” Patsy shouted back, leading Danny out of the ring, away from the fracas and back to the safety of the changing room.

Grinning broadly, Cohen and Costa were waiting for Danny with a bottle of champagne.

“Brilliant, Danny boy,” said Costa, kissing Danny on the cheek.

“You gave him a boxing lesson,” agreed Cohen.

“But what about the crowd?” said Danny, still stunned by the reaction.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Costa soothed. “Bad losers, those Welsh gits.”

The wonderful reality of winning started flowing through Danny. So much had rested on the result, and he had come through. He had actually won.

Costa cracked open the champagne with a flourish. So much of a flourish that it looked for a moment as if he would spray the crowded dressing room with it the way racing drivers did. But in the nick of time, he poured the fizzing liquid into some plastic glasses instead.

“To the future,” he toasted, handing the glasses out.

“To the future!”

Albert stood quietly to one side, watching the others drinking champagne and laughing. He felt troubled. He was a wise old fighter, and he’d seen that the Dragon had had no fire in his belly. Davies had not come to fight.

He watched Danny’s face as he tasted champagne for the very first time. The boy’s happiness radiated around the room. Albert decided that, if this was indeed a hollow victory, he was in no way going to let on. To put a damper on Danny’s great night would be wrong. Best to enjoy the surprise win and keep his reservations to himself.

Lenny, merry and a little drunk after several glasses of champagne, went to bring the car round. As the team left York Hall, congratulations and handshakes followed Danny to the waiting car.

“How about that then?” said Danny jubilantly as Lenny drove them home. “How about bloody that?”

Lenny broke into a tuneless calypso about cricket from Whitechapel to the Blackwall Tunnel. Patsy, not to be outdone, attempted a chorus of something Irish about Galway Bay. Albert just sat, quietly piecing parts of the jigsaw together.

We have invested heavily in Danny…

I think the odds are stacked in your boy’s favour. Know what I mean?

By the time they reached the Bristows’ house, Albert had come to the conclusion that the fight had indeed been fixed.

“Good night, son,” he said as Danny got out of the car, happy and barely bruised, heading to the front door and his waiting family. “Well done.”

The juxtaposition of the boy’s delight and Albert’s own sadness was hard to take. Albert was an honest man, full of high principles. If the Dragon had been paid to lose and given a pay-off for his imminent retirement, it left a very sour taste in his mouth.

“Drop you back at your flat, Albert?” Lenny offered.

Albert roused himself. “Cheers Len, that would be good.”

Neither Patsy nor Lenny pressed him to invite them in. It was clear that Albert wasn’t in a party mood. As Lenny pulled away, Albert stood on the street outside his flat, thinking over the night’s events. The cobbled street seemed to sparkle under the street lamps, and the gentle rain on his face didn’t help wash away his worries.

The taste of victory, right or wrong, was a big step up for Danny. What had the boy got himself into? What other tricks did Costa and Cohen have hidden up their sleeves?

In Simon’s shop window, Albert saw a pair of well-used boxing gloves hanging from a shelf laden with bric-a-brac. So much for the Noble Art.

Albert climbed the stairs to his flat and he turned on the light. Rocky came to life with a chirp and a hop as he walked over to her cage and stroked her blue feathered head.

“I’m whacked, mate,” he said. Rocky leant her head to one side as if she was listening. “It’s been a funny old night, Rocky. A funny old night.”

The next morning, he was anxious to see what the newspaper sports writers had made of last night’s contest.

He was first to the newsagent, where he bought most of the morning papers, much to the surprise of Norman, the corner-shop keeper. Norman had rosy cheeks and always seemed to be sucking one of his own boiled sweets.

“See you later, Norman,” said Albert as he paid for the papers and tucked them under his arm.

Norman tucked his boiled sweet into his cheek and watched as Albert left the shop.

Sitting down at the bus stop, Albert took a deep breath and opened the first paper. There, on the back page, was a photo of Danny, his arms raised in victory. The headline read!

Nervously scanning the review of the fight, Albert was pleasantly surprised. There was no mention of a fix, just surprise that a young unknown could knock out an experienced old warrior. The write-up went on to lambast the Dragon’s fans, calling them bad losers.

Albert pressed on through the pile of newspapers. None of them raised any suspicions. Danny had been covered in praise.

He headed round to the gym to see Patsy.

“What a night!” Patsy said by way of greeting.

“Yes indeed,” agreed Albert. “Have you seen the papers? Young Danny is the talk of the back pages.”

Patsy took the newspapers and scanned the sports pages, occasionally reading out loud particular sentences that were positive, like “Watson’s tactics were spot on” and “This boy could go far”. Albert listened. It pleased him that Patsy was enjoying the post-mortem, but in his heart it still felt like a hollow victory. Anxious to air his misgivings, he decided to come clean.

“Danny came out of it well,” he said. “Considering.”

“Considering what?”

“It just seemed too easy. Like the Dragon wasn’t up for it.”

Patsy put down the paper he was reading. “What d’ya mean?”

“Well like I said, it seemed like Davies didn’t want to fight,” said Albert.

Patsy tutted. “That’s because he couldn’t. Danny fought the perfect tactical fight, like we told him. That’s all.”

It seemed to Albert that Patsy’s euphoria may have clouded his judgement. However, he began to question his own take on the fight. Perhaps the contest hadn’t been a fix after all. Patsy, with his vast experience of the fight world, would have seen what Albert felt he had witnessed, but no. The big Irishman was walking the purple patch of a winning trainer, and was not to be shaken off.

“I wonder what Cohen and Costa’s next plan is,” said Albert.

Patsy shrugged. “Well they ain’t put a foot wrong yet, Albert,” he said. “You should stop being so suspicious and be a bit more trusting. Danny must be on cloud nine this morning. The last thing he wants is to be shot down in flames.”

For Danny’s sake, Albert decided to keep his misgivings to himself. Patsy went on devouring the back pages while Albert doodled on a piece of paper on the desk.

“Do you know something, Pat?” Albert said after a moment. “They reckon they can tell people’s personalities from what they doodle. Doodle. Funny word ain’t it?”

“Amazing,” said Patsy with his head in the papers.

Albert shifted in his seat. “What time’s Danny coming?”

“He’s late already,” said Patsy.

They both heard Danny’s footsteps as he climbed the stairs to the gym.

With a smile as wide as the Norfolk Broads and with Ruby in his arms, Danny walked into Patsy’s office.

“How are the best trainers in the world?” Danny said, passing the little bundle to Albert.

It was a long time since Albert had properly held a baby in his arms. He remembered to support Ruby’s head, a throwback to when he had held his own baby son so long ago. He looked at her innocent sleeping face, helpless and trusting. A feeling of warmth and protectiveness welled through him. Lifting Ruby up, Albert looked again at her little face. Untouched by bad things, she looked like an angel.

After a suitable amount of fuss was made of the baby, especially by Patsy, who couldn’t make his mind up if Ruby looked more like her mother or her father, Danny got down to business.

“I got the fight purse,” he said. “And the good news is, I’ve got some dosh for you both. Fifty quid each. Not bad for a night’s work.”

He proudly presented them both with a wad of one-pound notes. Albert’s first instinct was to refuse the money, but mindful of Danny’s euphoria, thought it best to just say “Thank you” and accept it.

“Why is the money from you and not from Costa and Cohen?” he asked.

“They pay me and I pay you. That’s the arrangement. That’s the way they want it.”

“Right,” said Albert. “I hope they paid you well.”

Danny grinned. “After their commission, I got two hundred smackers. More money than I’ve ever seen in my life. Good, ain’t it? Here’s to the next one.”

Albert felt his suspicions surface again. “I wonder how much they made?” he said.

“It don’t matter, does it?” said Patsy briskly. “The boy done well and has made a mark.”

“Thanks, Patsy,” said Danny, looking pleased. “Me and Wendy are going to look at a town house in Chigwell this afternoon. If it’s as nice as the estate agent reckons, I’m gonna put a deposit down. Wendy’s dad and mum are gonna help a bit.”

“That’s great,” said Patsy.

“Yeah. It’s a bit far to bike it to here from Chigwell so I might buy a car too,” said Danny. “A Jag.”

“Big plans,” Patsy teased.

Albert listened, but kept his focus on the baby in his arms. The promise of a better life for Ruby was doing its best to overrule his doubts and questions. “That’s a good thing, Danny,” he said, trying to be upbeat. “Make sure it’s got a garden for the little one.”

“It has, Albert. You’ll have to come and see it. I’ve got a meeting with Tommy and Jack in the morning to talk about the next fight.”

The Tommy and Jack reference was not lost on Albert. Gone was Mr Costa and Mr Cohen. Clearly, Tommy and Jack were getting closer to Danny and extending their influence.

“That’s good, Danny,” said Patsy. “We need to keep looking to the future. What time do you want us there?”

“No, you’re all right,” said Danny. “It’s just me this time. I’m having lunch with them, they said for me to come by myself. But I’ll tell you all about it later.”

Ruby woke up with a gurgle and a cry.

“Better get going,” said Danny, scooping Ruby out of Albert’s arms. “She’s hungry, I’ll get her back to Wendy. See you soon.”

Albert listened to Danny making his way back down the stairs, his footsteps echoing around the gym.

“How about that, Patsy?” he said. “Looks like we’ve been given the elbow.”

“No, it’s fine,” said Patsy. “He don’t want us hanging on his shirt tails, that’s all.”

Albert scratched his head. “Yep, of course,” he said. “I’d better get downstairs, do some work. See you later.”

“Yeah. See you later, champ.”

Lenny was already sitting at the bar. He leapt from his seat and engulfed Albert in a hug.

“What the bleeding hell are you doin’, Lenny?” Albert spluttered, fighting him off.

“That’s for the winning trainer, Albert!” Lenny cried. “What a win, man, me bet came up! Danny is the king of East London! Come on now, let me buy you a drink.”

“Not now,” said Albert. “Maybe later.”

“You can be a miserable old bastard, Albert,” Lenny remarked. “Cheer up, Danny is on his way to the top!”

When Danny got back with his precious cargo, Wendy was getting ready to view the Chigwell house. She was flustered but excited, making double sure that Ruby’s baby bag was full of all the baby-changing and feeding necessities for the trip.

Danny read the property particulars over and over. “It’s got a dishwasher,” he said in amazement.

“Don’t need one,” said Wendy as she put Ruby’s baby bag over her shoulder and they wheeled the pram out of the door. “I’ve got you!”

Travelling by bus from the East End into the Essex countryside was a truly pleasant change. The air felt fresher, cleaner. There were trees and fields.

“This is great,” said Wendy in delight. “It’s so much better for Ruby to grow up here.”

“I bet the schools are good,” said Danny.

Getting off the bus, they found the address and walked down the cul-de-sac of newly-built houses to find number seven. Waiting outside was the pinstripe-suited estate agent, property particulars in his hand and a welcoming smile on his face.

“Mr and Mrs Watson? Roger Hancock, nice to meet you.” He reached into the pram and tickled Ruby’s cheek. “And who’s this precious bundle?”

“This is Ruby,” Wendy proudly answered.

“How lovely. Now shall we take a look at this very desirable property? Lucky number seven!”

After unsuccessfully trying two or three keys, Roger Hancock let them all inside. He seemed to have a fixation with cupboards, opening every one, with a colourful explanation for the purpose of each. Danny and Wendy both found it irritating. All they wanted was to see the house.

“I like the look of it from the outside,” Danny said. “With its car port under the first floor, it looks American.”

Roger Hancock looked slightly bemused. “It does indeed!” he said. “And all at a bargain price!”

The house had that unmistakable smell that new-builds have: the smell of fresh paint and plaster. Above the car port was a kitchen, a large open-plan lounge with a small balcony and large sliding glass doors.

“A beautiful room and wonderful modern kitchen,” purred Roger. “And plenty of cupboards!”

“It’s lovely,” said Wendy, looking around.

“Where’s the dishwasher?” asked Danny.

On his second attempt, the first cupboard door proving to be a washing machine, Roger revealed the dishwasher.

“Nice,” said Danny approvingly. “What are the neighbours like?”

Roger Hancock winked. “Oh, in an area like this, I’m sure they are fine.”

After a good look at the lounge and kitchen and every cupboard on the first floor, Roger led the way through the magnolia-coloured decor to the second floor. With much gusto, he opened the door to the brand-new bathroom.

“The finish and choice of materials in these particular new-builds is flawless,” he said.

Danny stared at the little ceramic piece of equipment beside the toilet. “What’s that?” he asked.

“A bidet. A brand-new and fashionable piece of kit.”

“What’s it do?”

Roger Hancock cleared his throat. “Well,” he said. “Let’s just say it is used instead of toilet paper. Very popular in Arab countries I believe.”

“Ugh,” said Danny.

“Oh Danny, it sounds hygienic,” said Wendy with a slightly posher voice than usual.

They went on through to the master bedroom, which was big and light. It was nice to see the trees outside.

“And you should hear the sound of the birds singing in the morning!” said Roger Hancock enthusiastically.

Danny looked out of the window. “Is that the garden?” he said.

“Yes,” the estate agent confirmed. “It’s small but manageable. I’ll show you on the way out. And remember, in addition to the garden, there are many nice country walks in the area.” He became conspiratorial, and whispered quietly as though the walls of number seven had ears. “And of course, Bobby Moore the West Ham footballer lives just down the road.”

This did impress Danny.

For the sake of privacy and to have a chat, the couple went out to the little garden. It felt good to get away from Roger Hancock’s sales pitch. Buds were opening on bushes and trees were ready to play their part in the spring miracle.

“What do you think?” Danny asked Wendy.

“I love it. It’s perfect!”

Danny looked at Wendy’s face, her eyes sparkling with excitement, standing there with their daughter in her arms. This was his chance to buy a home for his family, away from the smog and dirt of London.

“I like it too,” he said. “It just feels right. The money might be a bit tricky though.”

“We’ll be all right,” said Wendy as she took his hand. “You got Tommy and Jack behind you now.”

“Albert and Patsy too,” said Danny. “Right. I’ll make him an offer.”

Danny put on his best business head, and went back in the house to confront the waiting Roger Hancock, leaving Wendy waiting outside in the garden.

Five minutes later, he returned. Wendy put down the dandelion clock that she’d been blowing for Ruby and looked eagerly at him. “Well?”

Danny worked hard on his poker face, not allowing it to show a thing.

“Come on, Danny,” Wendy begged.

Danny walked towards Wendy and Ruby, picked them both up, swung them round, and whispered in Wendy’s ear: “It’s ours.”

“Oh, Dan,” Wendy whispered with tears of joy in her eyes. She kissed him smack on the lips. Danny responded by kissing Ruby gently on the nose.

They stood together on the garden path, Danny’s arm protectively around Wendy, and looked up at their new home in wonder. This was it. Their new beginning.

Walking back to the bus stop, Wendy was full of plans for their new home. There was talk of colour schemes, curtains. Danny felt it was important to get a swing and slide in the garden for Ruby.

“Wendy, d’ya know what?” Danny said as the bus cruised back down the familiar streets of East London. “I bet they have stars there too, like Clacton.”

Wendy was full of excitement as she told her mum and dad all about their new house. Plans were made for the Bristows to see it the next day, when Danny had his lunch-time meeting with Costa and Cohen.

“Delighted that you’re moving up in the world, Danny,” said Mr Bristow, shaking Danny’s hand. “But we’re a little sad that you’ll be moving out.”

Mrs Bristow wiped her eyes. “We’ve got used to having you and little Ruby around,” she said. “And we’ve so enjoyed being close to your new-found success, Danny.”

“Watching Ruby’s progress day by day is something we’ll miss,” said Mr Bristow wistfully. “But not the night feeds. I tell you what, I’m looking forward to some order being restored in this place. Being woken by your little princess at two in the morning and a house full of baby paraphernalia hasn’t been ideal, I suppose.”

“But it’s been an acceptable cross to bear,” said Mrs Bristow.

The next morning, after the Bristows left for Chigwell, Danny went out into the small but well-kept garden. He looked up to the sky and whispered: “Things are going really well, Dad. Thank you for your help.”

He felt sure, as he had felt so many times before, that his father was looking down on him, helping and guiding him.

Still buzzing with the excitement and thoughts of having a place of their own, he decided to take a morning run to the park and tell Albert the good news. It was strange to think, as he ran through the familiar smog-laden streets, that in just a few weeks, it would be time to say goodbye to it all. He reflected on the years of growing up in the neighbourhood, the scrapes and adventures of his childhood. He thought about those wayward friends that he grew up with. Vince for one had landed up in prison: something to do with a botched robbery attempt on a bank in Romford. Ironically, one of the gang had become a policeman somewhere in Norfolk. Another had emigrated to Australia for a better life. Danny’s life was changing for the better too, and he was looking forward to meeting up with the man that had set him on this path.

The familiar sight of Albert in the park, bag of bread in hand, surrounded by his family of hungry ducks, made Danny smile. With so many things changing, the constant routine of Albert felt reassuring.

“Morning, Albert!”

Albert turned. “Hello Danny, all right?”

“I’ve got some good news, Albert. I’m buying a house in Chigwell!”

Albert sat on the bench. “That’s a bit posh Danny, I’m pleased for you. When do you move in?”

Danny joined him. “In a couple of months. I’ve gotta get one of them mortgages, I think.”

“Right. Lots to do then.”

“Yeah. You’ll have to come and see it.”

This was a good feeling, Danny thought. Just the two of them, generations apart, sat side by side. No pressure, no distractions.

“None of this would have happened if I hadn’t met you all those years back,” he said.

“So it’s my fault, is it?” said Albert with a smile.

“Yep, all your fault,” Danny agreed. “I could have been in jail now, like a couple of my mates from school.”

“Well it’s free board and lodgings,” Albert observed. “None of that mortgage lark.”

Danny laughed. “I’ll need to buy a motor though, if I’m living in the sticks. I need to get to Patsy’s and that.”

“See Lenny, he’ll sort you out with something decent,” advised Albert.

“It’s going well though,” said Danny. “I’ve got that lunch meeting with Tommy and Jack later, in an upmarket Chinese restaurant in Limehouse called Wing Wong or something. You ever had Chinese food, Albert? I ain’t. Is it right they cook up cats?”

Albert scratched his ear. “I wouldn’t know, son. But if you’re meeting Costa and Cohen, maybe they should cook up a couple of rats.”

This took Danny aback. He knew Albert was suspicious of Costa and Cohen, but had hoped the recent triumph and success would have eased his fears.

“It will be interesting to see what plans they have in the future for us, won’t it?” he said, trying to put a positive spin on things. “I’m not sure why they didn’t want you and Patsy at the meeting.”

“It’s your future,” said Albert. “We’re the past, me and Patsy.”

“No,” said Danny uneasily. “You’re a part of it.”

The two men went quiet, and watched a small boy with his grandfather playing with a remote-controlled boat on the pond, scattering ducks in its wake.

“Listen son,” said Albert. “Costa and Cohen want control. They don’t want me interfering. I’ve given this a lot of thought and I think it’s best if I bow out.”

Danny felt winded. “You what?”

“I’m sorry boy,” Albert said gently, “but I’ve made my mind up. Best if you go your way and I go mine. I’ll still keep an eye on what you’re up to, and I’m sure Patsy will still be with you, but you don’t need me. I can’t rub shoulders with Costa and Cohen.”

Danny felt like his world had turned upside-down. From being on top of it all, he was now drowning in a sea of confusion. He had trained so hard and Albert had been his inspiration, but now with success within their reach, Albert wanted out. He couldn’t believe it.

Albert put his arm around Danny’s shoulder. “You’re moving up, Danny. Those two have contacts and power. You don’t need an old stick-in-the-mud like me.”

Danny felt choked. Albert was not a man to change his mind when it was made up. His first reaction was to ditch Costa and Cohen, but there was the new house, the baby, Wendy to think of. He needed to think this through. He needed time to defuse the bomb that Albert had tossed in his lap.

“All right Albert,” he managed to say. “I’ve gotta go, speak to you later.”

Albert looked into Danny’s eyes. “Goodbye son,” he said.

At the park gates, Danny looked back to see Albert still sitting on his bench. A cloud of sadness engulfed him as he walked the streets back to the Bristows’.

Albert stayed where he was, staring at the trees gently swaying in the wind.

He had tried wrestling with his principles, but couldn’t shake off his misgivings. Costa and Cohen had fixed Danny’s fight to fast-track him into a money-making machine. Albert had too much respect for himself and the noble art of boxing to do anything so shady.

Costa and Cohen had recognised his honest old-fashioned outlook and saw him as a drag on their scheme of things. As much as he cared for Danny, he could not be a part of something crooked. He could not be party to the dangerous liaison that could eventually lead to Danny’s downfall.

With a heavy and empty heart, Albert made his way home.