Faded Glory (32 page)

“Look at them, bathing in Livermore’s reflected glory,” Albert muttered, clenching his fists as the hall went wild. “I could punch their lights out.”

“That would only lower us to their level,” Danny pointed out. “Self-control, Albert, remember? It’s all about self-control.”

Danny met Livermore in the centre of the ring. The fighter’s attitude seemed to have changed since they’d last met. Previously, there’d been a dignity and sportsman-like quality to the man that Danny had warmed to. Now he seemed full of himself, arrogant and hostile. If looks could kill, Danny and his team were already dead.

The officials began the weigh-in. As the challenger, Danny was summoned first. Taking off his dressing gown and his father’s cherished medal, he handed them to Albert.

“I’m gonna show ’em, Albert,” he said.

Walking to the scales, he could feel the hostile stares from Costa and Cohen burning through him. He made the weight limit with only a pound to spare.

Livermore made the weight with two pounds to spare. To everybody’s surprise, he took the microphone from the Master of Ceremonies.

“This clown is not worthy of even being in the ring with me,” Livermore shouted, spittle flying. “He got lucky last time: I didn’t kill him. But this time I will show no mercy!”

“You’re going down!” shouted Costa as the hall erupted.

Without taking his eyes off Danny, Cohen lifted Livermore’s arm. “You might as well throw the towel in now, Albert, you joker,” Cohen taunted. “This champ is a different class.”

“Say goodbye to your family, tosser!” Costa shouted. “You won’t be seeing them after Saturday!”

Mention of his family made Danny see red. This time it was Albert who stepped in, turning Danny’s head away from the three tormentors.

“Danny, listen to me,” he said. “It’s like you said. We can’t sink to their level. The truth is, we’re bigger than them and they’re frightened of you. This is just a front ’cos they’re scared of ya. Don’t rise to it.”

“Bastards,” Danny raged, trying to twist away from Albert’s grip.

Albert held him firmly. “Smile,” he said.

“What?”

“Just smile. It’ll spook them.”

Danny forced a smile. Albert smiled too. Cohen and Costa looked taken aback. As for the crowd, they loved it. The ones that had been talking big were suddenly looking small.

More senseless rantings accompanied Danny and his team as they made their way off stage. Danny started enjoying himself, smiling back and waving.

“Thank you, Wembley Arena!” Albert shouted, blowing kisses. “We love you!”

Danny sensed the crowd sliding his way. All the fans who had been neutral before the weigh-in started shouting his name. Reaching the changing room, they could still hear the chants of “Danny! Danny!” echoing around the hall.

“I think we won that one, don’t you Danny?” said Albert.

Danny grinned at him. “I think we did Albert, I think we did.”

“Roll on Saturday,” said Albert.

“Can’t wait,” said Danny.

FOR the night before the fight, Albert suggested that they stay at a hotel near the venue in Wembley. A good night’s sleep for Danny would be better served away from his mum’s. So Lenny, along with their overnight bags, dropped Albert and Danny at the hotel.

Albert’s hotel room looked and felt like a palace. It even had a TV. He especially like the electric teamaker and trouser press. Sitting back in a modern comfortable chair and looking around, he thought how different the room was to his little flat. Albert had never had money and was suspicious of luxury and wealth, but sitting there, in the lap of luxury, he thought he could get used to it.

He turned on the television. Pictures flashed past his eyes, but he had no interest in what he was watching. His mind was on the fight. Livermore was a dangerous fighter, and having Costa and Cohen in his corner made him doubly so.

Albert wondered what tricks they were going to pull. No doubt they had plied their new boy with pills and whatever else they could conjure up, filling his head with hatred. They had turned this from a boxing match into a vendetta. He felt nervous thinking about it, the identical feeling he used to feel before he went into box back in his glory days. Back then, he’d been able to do something about it. He’d been the fighter after all, in control of his destiny. Now, Danny was the fighter and Albert was on the sidelines. Destiny lay in his grandson’s hands and Albert could only watch.

He thought about Tommy for a while, and how he used to get nervous watching him playing football for the school. The nerves came second only to the pride Albert had felt whenever Tommy did something special or scored a goal. This was a lot bigger. It felt like Tommy was in this fight too, right alongside his son.

With a head full of thoughts, Albert went to bed and tried to sleep.

*

Unlike Albert, Danny hadn’t taken much notice of his swanky surroundings. The first thing he’d done was call Wendy to check that all was well.

“How are you feeling?” Wendy asked. “Have you got those butterflies you get?”

They felt more like fruit bats batting their wings than butterflies, Danny thought. “No, I’m feeling good,” he lied. “It’s a nice hotel. Is Ruby all right?”

“She’s fine. She’s still up, actually. Do you want to talk to her?”

“Hello Daddy,” Ruby piped down the receiver. “When are you coming to see me?”

These innocent words choked Danny up. Ruby didn’t know about the fight, Wendy hadn’t told her.

“As soon as I can,” he said gently.

“Bye bye,” said Ruby.

“Sorry, Danny,” said Wendy. “She’s had enough, she wants to get down. We’ll be thinking of you. Night.”

“I love you,” said Danny.

“We love you too,” said Wendy.

Danny put down the phone and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling comforted. It had been a painful journey to convince Wendy that he was the old Danny again, the man she’d loved and married, but he’d done it, kicking the drugs and getting his life back with his family. He remembered Costa shouting “Say goodbye to your family!” at the weigh-in. He was never going to let them go again.

His resolve hardened. He was ready. Ready and able for whatever Livermore planned to throw at him.

He went to bed and turned off the light.

*

Fire bells were ringing. Danny woke up with a start. He could hear a voice in the corridor shouting: “Please leave your rooms immediately and make your way to the car park! Do not use the lifts!” over and over in a chilling machine-like voice.

Grabbing his dressing gown, Danny made his way out through the panic, to the rain-drenched hotel car park. He was confronted by women in curlers, overweight men in underpants, shivering children and Albert fully dressed.

“What’s this all about?” Danny said, yawning. “I was asleep.”

“Bloody fire alarms went off,” Albert replied.

“You got dressed,” said Danny, noticing.

“Fire or no fire, I’m not standing out here in me Y-fronts,” said a defiant Albert. “I’ve got your dad’s medal.”

Danny rubbed his eyes. “Right. Good. Thanks.”

The manager minced out of reception, huddled under an umbrella.

“My apologies, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “The fire brigade have now checked the building and it is safe to go back to your rooms. It appears to have been a false alarm. It seems we have some jokers in our midst.”

There was a communal groan.

“It’s three o’clock in the morning!” grumbled a guest. “Some joke.”

“I bet I know who did this,” said Albert as they walked back to their rooms.

“Livermore’s lot?” Danny guessed.

“Costa and bloody Cohen,” said Albert. “Try to get some sleep, Danny, and call me when you wake up. Night. Or morning, I should say.”

*

In spite of the rude awakening Danny did get some sleep. All those interrupted early nights with Ruby in the early days had taught him to fall back to sleep at the drop of a hat. Waking up at ten-thirty, he gave Albert a call.

“They’ve finished doing breakfast,” Albert told him, “but you can order something from room service. Have steak and eggs. Good for ya.”

“I’ll see what they’ve got. What time we meeting up?”

“I’ve got us a late check-out. After last night’s bleedin’ fiasco, they should let us stay for free! Let’s meet in the reception about four, then we can get to the hall in good time to warm up and get sorted.”

Danny was struck by Albert’s professionalism. “OK boss. See you at four,” he confirmed.

Danny did as Albert said and ordered steak and eggs with some fruit salad to follow.

*

Though Danny seemed reasonably relaxed, Albert wasn’t. He had not slept at all and had spent a good deal of the night sitting in his damp clothes on a chair in his room, his mind full of those strange thoughts that seem to overtake you in the early hours when you feel that you are the only one awake in the entire world, and small problems seem so much bigger.

Memories of Tommy before he had gone into the army floated by with a clarity they had not had for years. Albert had buried them in his subconscious, but because of the gravity of his grandson’s impending battle, they had resurfaced.

He thought about Tommy’s escapades and adventures. There had been that time when Tommy had nicked his tobacco, smoked it all and finished up a shade of green; the time he’d borrowed Albert’s James Captain motorbike without permission aged just fourteen, and been stopped by a copper for speeding on the A13. Albert remembered picking him up from Barking Police Station and giving him a clip round the ear, all the time knowing that he probably would have done the same thing if his dad had had a motorbike.

He remembered Tommy bringing Danny’s mother Rosie home for the first time: his first and only girlfriend. Albert hadn’t been sure she was right for Tommy even then, but had kept his mouth shut. He remembered too how proud he’d been when he first saw Tommy dressed in his army uniform, and the deadening pain he’d felt when he was told of Tommy’s death; the hurt, when the pregnant Rosie had betrayed Tommy and his memory.

Then, in his mind, from the blackest of places, a light broke through. Albert thought of his newly found grandson and great-granddaughter and how destiny had brought them together. Like an angel, Ruby helped calm the storm in his mind, like a rainbow after a downpour.

Albert had an early breakfast and walked around the nearby streets. Time was dragging, and Albert was flagging too. Not only was he tired from a restless night, but the aches and pains from the accident were playing up. Looking for a sit-down and a rest, he came across a park gate, then a park, and finally a bench overlooking a boating lake. Laying his walking stick by his side, he sat down.

How strange that everything here was nice and tranquil, and still would be tonight whilst Danny and Livermore did battle in front of thousands of spectators baying for blood. Looking at the lake took him back to meeting young Danny in those early days. He wondered how fate could be so cruel and yet so kind, taking his son but giving him his grandson instead. He thought about the emotional journey they had been on together. The climax could be just hours away.

Albert believed there was something – a power, a God – although he hadn’t formed a firm opinion. He never prayed; he’d stopped doing that when Tommy was killed. But here on the park bench, he prayed.

“Dear God. I know we don’t talk much, but I wanted to thank you for finding my Danny. Thank you for everything, for little Ruby, for all of it. Please, dear God, take care of Danny tonight, keep him safe. Thank you. Amen.”

*

Back at the hotel, Danny had started pacing up and down in his room. He looked out of his bedroom window at the majestic Wembley Stadium standing so stately in the distance, the scene of so many sporting triumphs and defeats: a theatre of dreams and nightmares.

He could glimpse the arena beside the stadium. Already there were early spectators and a few ticket touts outside, no doubt flogging their tickets at inflated prices. What would tonight bring, triumph or defeat?

“Don’t even think about losing,” Albert had said.

Danny checked his watch for the tenth time. Ten minutes to go before they had to leave. His bag was packed and sitting by the door. It had been ready for hours. So had Danny.

He needed to stop thinking of what might be and what might not. It was time to get going. Time to get this battle on. He had prepared for months, and this was his moment.

Along with Albert, Patsy and Lenny, Danny had studied endless films of Livermore. He knew what he was facing and how tough it was going to be.

He left his room and walked through the hotel corridor to the lift. More of Albert’s words came into his head.
Just believe you’re the best, and there’s a good chance you will be the best.

Patsy and Lenny were already waiting at reception.

Putting his arm around Danny’s shoulder, Patsy said: “Can we have a word?”

Danny let the big Irishman lead him to a quieter corner.

“Danny,” Patsy began. “I want you to know how pleased I am that Albert is back. I want to apologise if my loyalty to you and Albert has ever been in question. My priority has always been to see you reach your potential, and cosying up to Costa and Cohen was wrong. I’m sorry.”

There was truth and real regret in Patsy’s eyes. For Patsy, this was a big step. To show any emotion at all was unusual.

Danny shook Patsy’s hand. “Water under the bridge, Patsy,” he said. “Let’s get this fight on, eh?”

Patsy looked to be on the verge of tears. “You bet,” he said. “And you know what? You’re gonna win.”

“How can you charge people top whack for a night’s kip when a fire alarm wakes ’em up and you herd everyone into a car park in the pissing rain for half the night?”

Danny and Patsy both looked round at the hotel reception desk. Albert was arguing his case for a reduction to the bill. The hotel manager was looking nervous and awkward as Albert’s voice rose in volume.

“And don’t give me any of that bollocks about company policy, you hear?”

“We’re terribly sorry sir,” said the manager. “In the circumstances, and after due consideration, we would be prepared to offer you a discount.”