David Essex - Faded Glory

He called Albert at the Live and Let Live.

“I won’t make it in for training till tomorrow afternoon, Grandad,” he said. “I just need to see to a couple of things.”

“Anything I can help with?” asked Albert.

“No, you’re all right, no big deal. See you about three.”

The feeling of guilt still surrounded Danny as he put the phone down, but he was optimistic. His actions would at least clarify the situation. He hated being in limbo, not knowing, and it was hard to train when he wasn’t sure what the future held.

This meeting was necessary. Not only for Danny and his family, but for Albert too.

THE next morning, as Danny showered and shaved ready for the meeting, he felt sure that Costa and Cohen would see the sense of Albert’s ultimatum. He looked forward to telling Albert the good news at the gym, later in the day.

There might need to be some kind of compromise, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

Wearing a light brown suede jacket, white shirt and black trousers, Danny felt good. His need for the drugs was easing day by day. He remembered Wendy’s words from way back, when she had said, If you are going for a job, look like you don’t need it and you will probably get it. So looking sharp felt like the way to go.

Driving to Costa and Cohen’s office had a feel of High Noon about it. Danny hoped no gun fight would ensue, just some straight talking.

Costa and Cohen were waiting for him in the reception. Their welcome was more matter of fact than normal. No big hug from Costa, no forced smile from Cohen. Just business-like handshakes.

“Come through,” said Cohen. “No telephone calls,” he instructed Mavis the receptionist, and led the way along the corridor to his palatial office.

“Take a seat, Danny,” said Cohen, seating himself behind his larger than necessary oak desk.

Danny sat down.

“You’re looking good, Danny boy,” said Costa.

“We wanted to talk to you because we care,” said Cohen, “and we don’t want you to make a mistake. Bringing Albert back on board is a mistake.”

“That’s right,” said Costa. “Albert’s a lovely man, but he’s from another era. Faded glory, Danny. He doesn’t understand today’s fight game.”

Danny said nothing.

“Let’s look at the points Albert made,” said Cohen. “The performance-enhancing pills we were giving you were for your own good, right? To help with your training and make you a better fighter.”

“Patsy was all right with it, wasn’t he?” said Costa.

Danny stayed silent. Cohen continued.

“Now, the fifty per cent management fee. Given your last performance, we feel it’s more than fair.”

“That ten per cent business is dear old Albert talking,” said Costa. “He doesn’t know about costs and advertising. It costs money to sell out a place like that.”

“A lot of money,” Cohen agreed. “It’s only with our guidance that you could have a shot at a British title, Danny.”

“You know who currently holds the belt, don’t you?” Cohen asked.

“Billy Livermore,” Costa said. “You remember that fight, don’t you?”

Danny certainly did remember the Livermore fight.

“Yeah, you remember it,” said Costa softly.

“You blew that one Danny, didn’t ya?” said Cohen, standing up behind his desk. “Now Livermore has the title. It would have been yours if you hadn’t fucked up, Danny. It would have been ours too.”

“Yes Danny,” said Costa.

“You fucked up big time, Danny boy,” spat Cohen. “And we can’t have that, can we Tommy?”

“No Jack,” Costa agreed. “It ain’t right.”

There was a tangible menace in the room. Danny felt frozen as Cohen opened the drawer to his desk and took out some papers.

“See this?” he said, shaking the papers in Danny’s face. “This is your contract. You know what we’re gonna do? Me and Mr Costa? We’re gonna tear it up.”

He ripped the contract to pieces and threw the remains into a nearby wastepaper bin.

“Good shot,” said Costa.

“Good riddance,” said Cohen.

And for the first time, Danny heard Jack Cohen laugh.

Cohen pushed his intercom as Danny tried to process what had just happened. The receptionist came in.

“Show Mr Watson out, Mavis,” said Cohen. “Goodbye Danny.”

Speechless, Danny followed Mavis out to the street.

“I can’t believe you did that,” said Costa.

“The boy’s a loser,” said Cohen. “And that silly old git Albert’s a nuisance. I’ve had enough of that fucked-up junkie. He’s dead meat.”

“Dead meat?” said Costa.

“Yeah, Tommy. Dead meat.”

Danny was in shock as he walked to his car. This was not what he had expected. He knew Cohen was angry at his lack of performance and preparation for the last fight, but Danny had always hoped there was a future. But now, nothing.

The realisation that Costa and Cohen would not compromise and had torn up his future was devastating. He had gone to the meeting full of optimism, but had left with an impossible situation. He drove to the gym on automatic pilot, his head full of questions that were hard to answer.

Lenny was just coming out of the public bar as Danny parked outside the Live and Let Live.

“Albert told me you and him have sorted that Costa and Cohen,” Lenny said with a satisfied smile. “Good thing.”

“Yeah,” said Danny, squirming inside.

“I’ll drop by later,” Lenny said. “Albert tells me you’re as sharp as a tack now.”

Danny forced a smile. “What does he know?”

It was a good question, Danny thought to himself as he headed inside the pub. What did Albert really know? Danny needed to think, and quickly. He’d gone behind Albert’s back with the secret meeting and now he had to admit to Albert that Cohen and Costa had dropped him. This wasn’t going to be easy.

Albert was sat on the edge of the boxing ring reading a newspaper.

“Wotcha Danny,” he said, upbeat as ever.

After Danny’s uncomfortable meeting, seeing Lenny, Albert and the familiar surroundings of the gym was soothing. These were his people. Straight and with none of the innuendoes of Cohen and Costa, their clever manipulation or false charms.

He began his regular training regime under the watchful eye of Albert.

As he dutifully went through the motions, he couldn’t help being distracted by the guilt he was still feeling.

“Mind elsewhere, Danny?” said Albert. “You seem a little absent today.”

Danny needed to tell Albert what had happened. He needed a way out of the worry weighing down on him. Taking his boxing gloves off, he took a deep breath.

“I went to see Costa and Cohen this morning,” he said sheepishly.

Albert’s eyebrows rose. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.

Albert was looking unimpressed. “What happened?”

This was difficult to answer.

“They tore up my contract,” Danny said.

Saying the words out loud made Danny realise what had actually happened. It was over. The end. Through the hammering in his head, he wondered how Albert would react to the news.

“Blimey,” said Albert after a moment.

“They said they wouldn’t move on their percentage,” Danny said in desperation. “And the money from the last fight? Because of their expenses, they said it was right.”

“That’s bollocks,” said Albert angrily. “We need to see their accounts for ourselves. And fifty per cent from a fighter is criminal. Fuck ’em, I say.”

Danny could see the anger in Albert’s eyes. He’d never heard his grandfather swear before.