David Essex - Faded Glory

When he got to the Live and Let Live and climbed the stairs to the gym, there was an unfamiliar smell of aftershave wafting from Patsy’s office. Through the window, Danny could see Albert, Patsy and two sharp dressers in conversation. Danny recognised them at once as Patsy beckoned him into the office.

“Danny!” said Costa, jumping up from a chair and giving Danny an overly affectionate hug. Over Costa’s shoulder, Danny could see distaste and contempt radiating from Albert.

“Sit down, champ, sit down,” Cohen said.

There was a mixed atmosphere as Danny did as he was told. Warmth from the visitors, and a definite chill from Albert and Patsy.

“Danny, we believe in you,” said Cohen, with his usual serious face.

“A bit more than some others do,” chimed in Costa.

“We think you’re ready for the big time, son,” said Cohen.

“We know you are,” added Costa, his English peppered with the touch of a Greek accent.

“We’ve been watching you,” said Cohen.

Costa grinned. “Like a hawk with a telescope.”

“You need representation, Danny,” Cohen continued. “People that can guide you to the top, where the pickings are rich. A professional career, with fame and a considerable fortune.”

“Considerable, like he says,” agreed Costa, stroking his chin with a gold-ringed hand.

Cohen laid a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “If we take you under our wing, Danny, the sky is the limit.”

“You will fly like an eagle,” Costa added.

Albert snorted. “That’s beautiful,” he said. “Fly like an eagle, you’d like that, Danny, wouldn’t you? Just think, you wouldn’t have to use public transport no more.”

Danny felt worried. Costa and Cohen’s exciting proposition looked like it might be a dangerous path, to judge from Albert’s reaction.

“Let me spell it out for you, Danny.”

As Cohen launched into plans for Danny’s future boxing career, Albert left the office without a word.

“He’s got work downstairs,” said Patsy, looking at Danny. “And I got training. I’ll leave you fellas alone. You know, to talk.”

“Shut the door on your way out,” said Cohen as Patsy left, not taking his eyes off Danny. “We want to propel you into the world of professional boxing, Danny. We can line up a top fight, with a name fighter that’ll put you on the map.”

“And what do you take in return?”

“Fifty per cent of your earnings.”

Danny frowned. “That sounds a lot.”

“Fifty per cent of something is better than a hundred per cent of nothing,” Costa pointed out.

Danny wasn’t too sure what that meant. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “Have a chat with Albert and Patsy and let you know.”

Costa sucked his teeth. “Albert and Patsy are nice blokes but they are yesterday’s men, Danny. Faded glory.”

“This is your career, Danny,” Cohen said, almost with sympathy. “Not theirs.”

Danny found himself shaking hands with Cohen and being on the receiving end of another hug from Costa.

“Call us,” Costa murmured in his ear. “You won’t regret it.”

Danny weighed up his feelings as the men left. This could be the answer with a baby on the way. It could offer him security for the family. If what Cohen and Costa were offering was for real, his worries could be over.

But he was troubled by Albert and Patsy’s reactions. It was plain to see they didn’t share his enthusiasm. “We believe in you,” Cohen had said. Did Albert and Patsy feel the same way?

Training was already halfway through by the time Danny joined in. He watched Patsy for some kind of reaction as he punched the pads, but Patsy didn’t say a word. Danny sensed that Patsy didn’t want to talk about Cohen and Costa’s proposal. Was he jealous? Danny couldn’t see why. As far as he was concerned, Patsy and Albert would benefit from Cohen’s promised “rich pickings”.

With training over, Danny said his goodnights and went downstairs to find Albert collecting glasses.

“All right?” he said, in an attempt to test the water.

“Quite a night,” said Albert.

He seemed upbeat. Danny relaxed a little.

“What do you reckon about Cohen and Costa then?” he asked.

Albert’s lips thinned. “That’s for you to decide,” he said. “It’s your life.”

Albert’s answer didn’t help Danny at all. Deciding that perhaps the discussion was best left for another day, Danny said goodnight and collected his bike from the back of the pub.

Outside, the rain was pouring down. Even so, as Danny rode through the streets drenched from head to toe, there was a fire in his belly. He couldn’t wait to tell Wendy that the future was looking bright. Albert and Patsy would come round in time. They only wanted what was best for him.

Wendy was confronted by a drowned rat with a broad smile on his face at the front door.

“I’ve got some good news,” said Danny, dripping on the door step.

“Look at you, you’re drenched!” Wendy exclaimed. “Come inside. I’ll fetch you a towel.”

Danny dried himself quickly.

“What is it then?” Wendy said as he laid the towel down. “Have you heard from the council about a flat? Is there work at the docks, are you starting there soon?”

Danny grinned. “I’ve had an offer to turn pro,” he said.

“What does that mean?”

“It means when I fight, I get paid.”

Wendy sat forward and listened as Danny told her all about Cohen and Costa and the earlier meeting.

“It could mean security for us and the baby,” he said. “I could buy a car and everything.”

Wendy clapped with excitement. “Danny, really?” Then her face fell. “You won’t get badly hurt, will you? If you turn pro?”

“I’ll do my best not to,” Danny said. “Come on Wend. This could be the start of great things!”

And he kissed Wendy’s bump to prove it.

By the time he left for home at around midnight, the rain had stopped and the streets smelt clean and fresh. The house was quiet as he wheeled his bike through to the yard. Rosie had clearly gone to bed. Danny suspected she was alone for once, as there was just the clock to be heard, ticking in the hall, not the raucous sounds of intimacy that he had heard so often.

Upstairs in his room, he peeled off his damp clothes and put on a pair of tracksuit bottoms. He could hear the dripping drainpipe outside his room. As he lay on his bed and looked at the damp and mildewed ceiling, he thought about how he was living, with just a few quid to his name and not much else. The work on the building sites was hard and the pay poor. He had witnessed older manual workers struggling, and did not want that to be his life. Not now.

The proposal from Costa and Cohen could be the answer. Looking out of his bedroom window, Danny gazed up to the night sky.

“A new beginning, Dad,” he whispered, and smiled, closing the bedroom window’s brown faded curtains and switching off the bedroom light. He turned in, his head full of good dreams.

THE next morning, Danny woke happy and got ready for his morning run.

He was hoping to see Albert at the park, to put him straight on how his boxing family would be a part of his future, and talk the Cohen and Costa business through.

Running through the cobbled streets, he practised in his head the words he would say to Albert. He wanted to reassure him, to let him know that whatever happened with Cohen and Costa, he wanted Albert and Patsy right there by his side.

Turning into the park, he could see the familiar figure of Albert by the bandstand, with a less familiar companion on a lead beside him.

“Monty,” Albert said when Danny raised his eyebrows at the Jack Russell sniffing his feet. “He belongs to Simon, my neighbour. I take him out sometimes, when Simon’s doing a house clearance.”