Faded Glory (12 page)

“Wonderful,” purred Costa, all smiles and cordiality. “Come in and celebrate with us.” He cast his eye over Danny’s unruly bunch of mates, adding: “We can’t let your friends in, sorry. We’re too busy and the dress code demands a jacket and tie.”

The refusal didn’t seem to worry the other boys too much. There were plenty of other more appealing local prospects to savour than Costa’s gambling den. Almost at once, they started trickling away into the night and Patsy and Lenny followed.

“Bring the kid in, Mick,” Costa instructed the doorman. “Drinks on the house.”

Albert was in reception as Danny was ushered through.

“What about Albert?” he asked. “Can’t he come in?”

“Dress code,” Costa said, without looking in Albert’s direction. “You have a nice suit. He looks like he just got off a banana boat.”

Danny stood his ground, swaying slightly. “I’d like Albert to come in too. He organised it.”

Costa shot a grudging look at Albert. “As it’s you, champ,” he said.

Albert and Danny were hustled into the roulette room. Talking the whole while, Costa treated Danny like a VIP and Albert like he was invisible.

“What are you having, champ? Whisky? We’ll fix you a steak sandwich and the best seat in the house. Come and enjoy yourself.”

Danny’s wedding gift of fifty quid evaporated in an embarrassingly short time. Albert stood by silently and watched. Even through the fog of alcohol, Danny could see that Albert was really uncomfortable in Costa’s presence. But he didn’t know what to do about it.

*

“It’s getting late, Danny,” Albert said as the clock inched towards two a.m. “Big day tomorrow.”

“No need to leave just yet,” Costa coaxed. “Have another drink.”

Danny knew Albert was right. “I’m getting married tomorrow,” he said. “Thanks for your hospitality, Mr Costa, but we should call it a night.”

Costa shrugged. “Have it your way,” he said.

“See you at the wedding,” said Danny awkwardly.

“Looking forward to it,” said Costa, pulling Danny into a hug. He clicked his fingers at the doorman. “Mick? Show our visitors out.”

Outside the streets were still busy and full of nightlife. Danny felt deflated and sobered by what had been a strange ending to a happy night.

“So,” Albert said as they reached the night bus stop. “Costa’s coming to the wedding?”

Danny was starting to find this tiptoeing around Costa and Cohen tedious. He had his future to think of. Surely Albert could see that? He tried to play it down like it was no big deal.

“Yeah, him and Cohen,” he said. “I need to keep my options open.”

Albert spent the bus journey not speaking and looking out the window. Beside him, Danny couldn’t enjoy the ride. He had mixed feelings about everything right now. On one hand, he thought of Wendy and her family and how excited they were to hear about the liaison with Cohen and Costa. On the other, he was wrestling with feelings of disappointment and guilt on his friend and mentor’s behalf.

As the bus reached his stop, Danny gripped Albert’s arm.

“I want you always to be involved, Albert,” he said. “I wouldn’t be a fighter if it wasn’t for you.”

“We’ll see,” answered Albert non-committally. “Good night, Danny.”

It wasn’t quite the answer Danny had wanted as he left the bus and watched it move off down the Whitechapel Road.

The sun was beginning to rise as Danny wearily reached home. He felt empty and alone, like he was the only person left in the world.

Going upstairs to his room, he could hear the distant sound of Ricky’s snoring down the corridor. Reaching under his bed, he picked up the red and silver box, opened it and sifted gently through the contents. For no particular reason, his eyes filled with tears.

“What’s happening, Dad?” he whispered.

In the past, Danny had always answered his own questions the way he imagined his father might have done. He didn’t do that now. Everything seemed so futile, so pointless. Here in the early-morning hours, he felt nothing at all.

Closing the box and his eyes, Danny drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

DANNY woke up to the sound of Rosie’s hairdryer. His brain felt like lead and the hairdryer sounded like a road drill as he tried to lift his hungover head from the pillow.

This was the big day. The day when he should have been feeling excited. After all, he was about to marry his childhood sweetheart and future mother of his baby. But his subconscious was still troubled by loyalty to Albert, and the reality of marriage and fatherhood without a handbook to guide him along the way was sinking in. So a black cloud hung over Danny’s morning, obscuring the view.

It was already eleven-thirty, and the service was scheduled for two p.m.

Albert was supposed to arrive about twelve to begin his best man duties. Danny hoped he’d make it, not least because Albert was picking up his wedding suit and bringing it over. His only back-up – the old navy suit – was still encrusted with food from last night’s shindig. He could just imagine Wendy’s face if he turned up in that. A Norman Wisdom-fitting suit, smelling like a putrid larder.

As Danny eased himself into the bath and the comforting warm water, he could hear Rosie discussing with Ricky what she should wear for the wedding. He hoped she would give the leopard-print dress a miss and wear something a bit classier, but he wasn’t hopeful. As for Ricky, if he turned up in one of his Elvis outfits, Danny was ready to disown them both.

Feeling slightly more upbeat and a touch more human after his bath, Danny looked in the mirror as he shaved. He was really starting to resemble that cherished photograph in the red and silver box. This somehow made Danny feel stronger, more in control. As he looked in the mirror and smiled, it almost felt like his dad was smiling back.

The clock downstairs struck noon as the doorbell pealed out its annoying Big Ben chimes. Albert, thought Danny. Right on time.

As Ricky opened the door, Danny heard Lenny’s voice. He grabbed his dressing gown and went downstairs.

Lenny looked like somebody else, dressed in his best cream suit with shoes you could see your face in and a very serious expression.

“You look sharp, Len,” said Danny.

“A choc ice dressed as a pox doctor’s clerk,” Ricky grunted. “Now I’ve seen it all.”

“I got something for you, Danny,” said Lenny, ignoring Ricky.

As he handed over Danny’s wedding suit, shirt, waistcoat and cravat, Rosie made her grand entrance down the stairs, dressed to kill in head-to-toe leopard print topped off with a giant pink hat. The impression was not unlike a movie star from a bygone era. Rosie held her head high in a cloud of cheap perfume and struck a model-like pose.

“What d’ya think?” she said, and gave her audience a bit of a twirl.

Danny and a startled-looking Lenny nodded without a word.

Ricky whistled. “Beautiful, my darling,” he said. “The belle of the ball.”

Danny decided the best thing was to escape upstairs as soon as possible and get dressed.

“Thanks for the suit, Len,” he said. “Where’s Albert, is he on his way? He was supposed to be here for twelve.”

Lenny cleared his throat. “I saw Albert,” he said. “He came by me garage this morning, to give me the suit and a letter he told me to give you.”

Danny slowly took both the letter and the suit.

“I’ll be back later with the car to pick you up,” Lenny added.

“Yeah, right,” said Danny, staring at the letter. “Thanks Len.”

Danny headed up the stairs. Sitting on his bed, he opened the envelope.

D
EAR
D
ANNY
,

Sorry, but feeling a bit rough today so I am unable to make the wedding. I send my very best wishes to the bride and groom. I hope you have a wonderful day, and I wish you both well.

A
LBERT

He had half-expected this. He knew at once that the presence of Cohen and Costa at the wedding had brought on Albert’s mystery illness. With no best man, and indeed no best friend, Danny felt deflated. He felt like going round to see Albert, but thought he’d better not force the issue. Besides, he wasn’t sure where Albert actually lived, because he had never invited Danny round.

Danny decided he had enough on his plate today. Though he was disappointed, he tried to look on the bright side. At least a drunken confrontation at the wedding breakfast between Albert, Cohen and Costa wouldn’t now spoil Wendy’s big day. And Albert had been spared meeting Rosie and Ricky and their unique fashion sense.

Feeling like a trussed-up chicken, Danny was soon suited and booted and ready to go. Rosie and Ricky headed off to the church on Ricky’s BSA Gold Star motorbike, with Rosie desperately holding on for dear life to her very big hat. It felt to Danny like the lull before the storm.

All was now quiet, the empty house full of memories. Danny listened to the clock’s
tick-tock
, the soundtrack to his growing up. Danny’s mum’s pride and joy, second only to her radiogram, the grandfather clock in the hall was like the heartbeat of home. As Danny looked around at the familiar furniture and ornaments he had lived with all his life, a wave of nostalgia came over him. Soon it wouldn’t be his home any more.

As the clock’s second hand moved slowly and he heard the clock chime one, Danny thought about the many things the house had seen. His mum’s parties, which had kept him awake. His childhood friends congregating around the gramophone and playing Rosie’s records before she came home. The pet mouse he had called Micky, and how he’d cried when Micky died. His bedroom upstairs where he’d once put together the model of a Spitfire. The smell of cooking mixed with Rosie’s perfume, the kitchen tap that always dripped and the stairs that creaked; all would soon be memories.

He walked into the living room, found his favourite record,
Tutti Frutti
by Little Richard, and put it on. It sounded good. Danny liked the way the music transported him back to a less complicated time.

When the record finished, there was just the tick of the clock and the dripping tap to be heard. The clock struck one-thirty, and Danny came back from yesterday to now and to the future. To the wedding.

For a small fee, Lenny had procured a nearly new Ford Cortina from one of his clients to act as a limo and to drive Albert and Danny to the church. When Danny opened the door, he saw Lenny with the polished and valeted Cortina, the usual wedding ribbons attached to the wing mirrors for the occasion. There was no Albert in the back. Danny had hoped Albert might have a change of heart, but no.

“You’re looking sharp, man,” said Lenny, eyeing up Danny in his wedding regalia.

“The motor looks good, Lenny,” Danny replied, then stated the obvious. “No Albert?”

“Better get going,” was Lenny’s reply. “You go in the back, make you look more important. But I ain’t wearing no chauffeur hat.”

These weren’t the kind of nerves Danny felt before a fight. They felt different, not unlike the butterflies he felt when he first kissed Wendy.The kind he felt when he’d first gone to Patsy’s boxing gym.

As the Cortina pulled up at the church, impressing the guests outside, Danny panicked.

“The wedding rings!” he said. “Albert had the rings!”

“Don’t worry,” Lenny replied calmly. “Albert gave them to me.”

Danny eased the collar away from his neck. He was sweating. Seeing a group of guests at the door of the church having a quick cigarette before the service focused him on his role. He’d practised this with the vicar and Wendy a few evenings ago. It was going to be fine.

Danny got out of the car, going over the choreography of the day in his mind.

“All right, Danny?”

“Good luck in there, mate.”

He nodded absently at a few church stragglers, most of whom he had never met. Lenny stood awkwardly with him. They were were relieved to see the hand of the vicar at the church door outstretched in welcome.

The Reverend John Edwards had a headful of white hair, smiling eyes and a stammer. Now in his sixties, he had seen many of his congregation literally come and go, with countless baptisms and funerals. Weddings meant too much confetti strewn over the churchyard, but the vicar seemed happy to grin and bear it. His genial presence brought a sense of calm and order to proceedings.

“Where is your b-b-best man?” he asked.

Danny wiped his forehead. “He’s not here. But Lenny has got the rings.”

“Yeah Father,” Lenny confirmed. “I can be the second-best man.”

“Very good. Don’t w-w-worry, I’ll guide you through the service. Now, we’d b-b-better get going, I’ve have a christening in thirty minutes. Shall w-w-we go in?”

As they walked through the large arched wooden doors, the chatting turned into whispering, like the reverence shown when visiting someone in hospital. Rosie waved furiously, poised for a good cry with handkerchief in hand. Rick gave Danny the thumbs up.

Black Lenny’s appearance caused a minor stir, but respect seemed instinctively to prevail in the hallowed surroundings. Nods and smiles all round greeted Danny as he walked to the altar. He felt as if he was floating, mentally and physically. The demonic-sounding church organ provided the backdrop to this surreal dream.

He was brought back to earth when he saw Cohen and Costa standing on his sparsely populated guest side of the church. With smiles like Cheshire cats and the light from a nearby candle catching Costa’s gold tooth, they gave Danny a wave. Lenny made that hissing sound he used when a job was a nuisance.

At the altar, Lenny dropped to one knee and crossed himself, which surprised Danny. He was anxious to get going. It was now past two o’clock, and there was no sign of Wendy yet.

“It’s tradition for the bride to be late,” Lenny whispered in Danny’s ear. “Don’t worry man, she’ll be here soon enough.”

The organist played on, a rather sombre and funereal choice. Then, silence. An air of anticipation floated through the church followed by Mendelssohn’s well-used Wedding March.

Heads turned in admiration. Danny turned too.

A vision of stunning beauty in a flowing white dress with a veil across her smiling face, Wendy looked a picture as she and her father made their regal entrance. Through the ringing in his ears, Danny could hear crying. Clearly some of the lady relatives were determined to enter fully into the emotion of the occasion, Wendy’s mum among them. Hopefully they were tears of joy.