David Essex - Faded Glory

Wedding plans were the urgent priority.

“You should tie the knot as soon as possible,” advised Mrs Bristow.

“I won’t have a daughter of mine walking down the aisle six months pregnant,” cautioned Mr Bristow.

“What would people think if you were showing under your wedding dress?” agreed Mrs Bristow.

“You could live here,” Mr Bristow offered over dessert.

“That would be great, Dad,” Wendy said, glancing at Danny. “But we’ll put our names down for a council place too.”

This pleased Danny. He got on all right with his future in-laws, but having their own place would certainly feel more comfortable.

His head was spinning after all the talk at dinner as he left Wendy with a goodnight kiss on the front porch.

“I said it would be all right, didn’t I Wend?” he said.

“It’s gonna be wonderful,” said Wendy happily. “Night. I love you Danny.”

“I love you too.”

Riding his bike home, Danny felt very grown up, ready to tackle all the trials and tribulations of being a father. His child would be brought up properly, unlike the fractured childhood that he had endured.

He wondered how his mum was going to react to the happy news. His instinct told him that the chance for Rosie to buy a new hat for the wedding would definitely go down well. He couldn’t imagine his mum would ever make the perfect grandmother, but he suspected having the house to herself when he eventually moved out was going to be something she would enjoy.

Rosie and Ricky were just finishing a Chinese take-away when Danny wheeled his bike through to the back and returned to the kitchen to break the news.

“Mum,” he said at the kitchen door. “Me and Wendy are gonna get married.”

“What d’ya want to do that for?” Ricky grunted, his mouth full of food.

Rosie looked worried. “Don’t you think you’re too young, love?” she said.

“I’m twenty-three, Mum,” said Danny. His eyes uncharacteristically filled with tears. “I love her, she loves me, and we are going to have a baby.”

Ricky dropped a prawn ball. Rosie jumped up and away from her chicken chow mein, almost choking in shock. Finally, through the coughs and splutters, she managed to speak.

“My little boy, are you sure?” Emotionally fuelled with alcohol, Rosie dramatically threw her arms round him. “Danny, listen to me, are you sure?”

Danny attempted to calm his mother down with a few friendly pats on her back. “Yes Mum, I’m sure,” he said.

“My little boy, a father!” Rosie cried, like a player in a Greek tragedy. “Oh Danny!”

Ricky seemed more interested in some prawn crackers than Wendy and Danny’s nuptials. After a reluctant glass of sweet German wine to celebrate, Danny said his goodnights and escaped to his room.

Reaching under his bed for the tin box, he took out the photo of his father.

“Hello Dad,” he said proudly. “You’re going to be a grandad.”

Looking at his father’s picture, Danny felt sure that his dad would look down and make sure the little one would grow up safe and sound.

It had been a landmark night to remember.

Each morning, Albert tried to feed as many ducks as he could before his bread ran out. It was hard keeping the pigeons off and the odd seagull was a nightmare, but he did his best.

“Albert! I’ve got something to tell you!”

Albert looked up to see Danny running towards him. The boy was glowing about something.

“Albert, guess what? I’m gonna be a dad! Wendy’s pregnant and we’re gonna get married!”

“A dad? Marriage?” Albert repeated. “Blimey, son, you sure this is the right time? What about the boxing?”

Danny wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I’ll work something out. Great, ain’t it though?”

Albert felt concerned. Danny’s promising boxing career would come to a halt or suffer, taking second place to a family and wife. Not to mention the financial commitment of bringing up a child.

“Kids cost money,” he said. “How are you gonna afford it? Wendy can’t work with a bun in the oven.”

“I know she can’t,” Danny agreed. “I need to work harder at the boxing, maybe turn professional to make money.”

Uneasiness spread through Albert. He could sense where this was going.

“Maybe those Cohen and Costa blokes could help, you know?” Danny said casually. “So I can make some money.”

Albert was only too aware of Cohen and Costa’s shady reputation. The thought of Danny being involved with them in any way was worrying. The thought of Danny turning professional was worrying too. But at the same time, he was respectful of Danny’s up-and-coming commitments. For the moment, it would be best to keep his powder dry and stay quiet on Costa and Cohen.

“So you’re gonna be a dad,” he said. “I’m pleased for you, Danny.”

“Yeah it’s great! But keep it quiet, yeah? Till we’re married?”

“My lips are sealed,” said Albert. “She’s a nice girl too, your Wendy. I wish you both every happiness.”

“Thanks, Albert, I appreciate it,” Danny said with a smile. “We’ve already started planning the wedding. I’ll give you your invite when they’re printed up.” He smiled shyly. “And I would like you to be my best man.”

Albert was touched. “Lovely,” he said. “Look forward to it. Seems like you’ve got a lot of future coming your way.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed. “And I’m going to grab it with both hands. I want my kid to be proud of me.”

“You do that,” said Albert. “Just keep pushing.”

Danny shook Albert’s slightly bemused hand. “And it starts now,” he promised, with a mock punch to Albert’s shoulder.

Albert sat on the bench and thought about Danny’s revelations as Danny headed off on the rest of his circuit training, his quest to climb the mountain of success. A change was coming, and Albert wasn’t sure it was going to be for the best.

Walking back to his flat, he puzzled over Danny and his boxing future. He prayed the boy would circumnavigate Cohen and Costa. He didn’t trust them. There were too many rumours, too many shadowy dealings.

He decided to talk to Patsy about it when he got to work.

“You just missed a couple of visitors,” Patsy informed Albert when he arrived at the Live and Let Live. “Them two clowns, Costa and Costalotmore.”

“What did they want?” Albert asked with trepidation.

“They seem to believe in your Danny. They were interested in representing the boy and helping him turn professional.”

Albert went quiet. The thought of those two wide boys being involved in Danny’s future was a chilling prospect. But if they could help Danny secure his financial future for his new family, who was he to stand in his way?

“What did you tell ’em?”

“To come back this evening when Danny’s in. They can speak to him directly then.”

Albert sat down. “We need to be here, Patsy,” he said. “We don’t know what tricks they might want to pull.”

“Yes indeed,” agreed Patsy.

The two men exchanged grim glances.

Tonight was going to be tough.

Danny had spent most of the day with Wendy and her busy mother, making plans for the wedding. He’d never realised how complex it was. Invites, caterers, menus, venues… His head was spinning.

Mr Bristow had shot off earlier in his Hillman Minx to secure the local Conservative Club for the reception. He maintained that the venue had class, and he also knew of a three-piece band that played there on a Saturday night.

“Perfect,” he had said. “Not too noisy.”

By early evening, Danny was weddinged out, and ready for the physical and mental relief of training.