David Essex - Faded Glory

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?”