Ruby woke up with a gurgle and a cry.
“Better get going,” said Danny, scooping Ruby out of Albert’s arms. “She’s hungry, I’ll get her back to Wendy. See you soon.”
Albert listened to Danny making his way back down the stairs, his footsteps echoing around the gym.
“How about that, Patsy?” he said. “Looks like we’ve been given the elbow.”
“No, it’s fine,” said Patsy. “He don’t want us hanging on his shirt tails, that’s all.”
Albert scratched his head. “Yep, of course,” he said. “I’d better get downstairs, do some work. See you later.”
“Yeah. See you later, champ.”
Lenny was already sitting at the bar. He leapt from his seat and engulfed Albert in a hug.
“What the bleeding hell are you doin’, Lenny?” Albert spluttered, fighting him off.
“That’s for the winning trainer, Albert!” Lenny cried. “What a win, man, me bet came up! Danny is the king of East London! Come on now, let me buy you a drink.”
“Not now,” said Albert. “Maybe later.”
“You can be a miserable old bastard, Albert,” Lenny remarked. “Cheer up, Danny is on his way to the top!”
When Danny got back with his precious cargo, Wendy was getting ready to view the Chigwell house. She was flustered but excited, making double sure that Ruby’s baby bag was full of all the baby-changing and feeding necessities for the trip.
Danny read the property particulars over and over. “It’s got a dishwasher,” he said in amazement.
“Don’t need one,” said Wendy as she put Ruby’s baby bag over her shoulder and they wheeled the pram out of the door. “I’ve got you!”
Travelling by bus from the East End into the Essex countryside was a truly pleasant change. The air felt fresher, cleaner. There were trees and fields.
“This is great,” said Wendy in delight. “It’s so much better for Ruby to grow up here.”
“I bet the schools are good,” said Danny.
Getting off the bus, they found the address and walked down the cul-de-sac of newly-built houses to find number seven. Waiting outside was the pinstripe-suited estate agent, property particulars in his hand and a welcoming smile on his face.
“Mr and Mrs Watson? Roger Hancock, nice to meet you.” He reached into the pram and tickled Ruby’s cheek. “And who’s this precious bundle?”
“This is Ruby,” Wendy proudly answered.
“How lovely. Now shall we take a look at this very desirable property? Lucky number seven!”
After unsuccessfully trying two or three keys, Roger Hancock let them all inside. He seemed to have a fixation with cupboards, opening every one, with a colourful explanation for the purpose of each. Danny and Wendy both found it irritating. All they wanted was to see the house.
“I like the look of it from the outside,” Danny said. “With its car port under the first floor, it looks American.”
Roger Hancock looked slightly bemused. “It does indeed!” he said. “And all at a bargain price!”
The house had that unmistakable smell that new-builds have: the smell of fresh paint and plaster. Above the car port was a kitchen, a large open-plan lounge with a small balcony and large sliding glass doors.
“A beautiful room and wonderful modern kitchen,” purred Roger. “And plenty of cupboards!”
“It’s lovely,” said Wendy, looking around.
“Where’s the dishwasher?” asked Danny.
On his second attempt, the first cupboard door proving to be a washing machine, Roger revealed the dishwasher.
“Nice,” said Danny approvingly. “What are the neighbours like?”
Roger Hancock winked. “Oh, in an area like this, I’m sure they are fine.”
After a good look at the lounge and kitchen and every cupboard on the first floor, Roger led the way through the magnolia-coloured decor to the second floor. With much gusto, he opened the door to the brand-new bathroom.
“The finish and choice of materials in these particular new-builds is flawless,” he said.
Danny stared at the little ceramic piece of equipment beside the toilet. “What’s that?” he asked.
“A bidet. A brand-new and fashionable piece of kit.”
“What’s it do?”
Roger Hancock cleared his throat. “Well,” he said. “Let’s just say it is used instead of toilet paper. Very popular in Arab countries I believe.”
“Ugh,” said Danny.
“Oh Danny, it sounds hygienic,” said Wendy with a slightly posher voice than usual.
They went on through to the master bedroom, which was big and light. It was nice to see the trees outside.
“And you should hear the sound of the birds singing in the morning!” said Roger Hancock enthusiastically.
Danny looked out of the window. “Is that the garden?” he said.
“Yes,” the estate agent confirmed. “It’s small but manageable. I’ll show you on the way out. And remember, in addition to the garden, there are many nice country walks in the area.” He became conspiratorial, and whispered quietly as though the walls of number seven had ears. “And of course, Bobby Moore the West Ham footballer lives just down the road.”
This did impress Danny.
For the sake of privacy and to have a chat, the couple went out to the little garden. It felt good to get away from Roger Hancock’s sales pitch. Buds were opening on bushes and trees were ready to play their part in the spring miracle.
“What do you think?” Danny asked Wendy.
“I love it. It’s perfect!”
Danny looked at Wendy’s face, her eyes sparkling with excitement, standing there with their daughter in her arms. This was his chance to buy a home for his family, away from the smog and dirt of London.
“I like it too,” he said. “It just feels right. The money might be a bit tricky though.”
“We’ll be all right,” said Wendy as she took his hand. “You got Tommy and Jack behind you now.”
“Albert and Patsy too,” said Danny. “Right. I’ll make him an offer.”
Danny put on his best business head, and went back in the house to confront the waiting Roger Hancock, leaving Wendy waiting outside in the garden.
Five minutes later, he returned. Wendy put down the dandelion clock that she’d been blowing for Ruby and looked eagerly at him. “Well?”
Danny worked hard on his poker face, not allowing it to show a thing.
“Come on, Danny,” Wendy begged.
Danny walked towards Wendy and Ruby, picked them both up, swung them round, and whispered in Wendy’s ear: “It’s ours.”
“Oh, Dan,” Wendy whispered with tears of joy in her eyes. She kissed him smack on the lips. Danny responded by kissing Ruby gently on the nose.
They stood together on the garden path, Danny’s arm protectively around Wendy, and looked up at their new home in wonder. This was it. Their new beginning.
Walking back to the bus stop, Wendy was full of plans for their new home. There was talk of colour schemes, curtains. Danny felt it was important to get a swing and slide in the garden for Ruby.
“Wendy, d’ya know what?” Danny said as the bus cruised back down the familiar streets of East London. “I bet they have stars there too, like Clacton.”
Wendy was full of excitement as she told her mum and dad all about their new house. Plans were made for the Bristows to see it the next day, when Danny had his lunch-time meeting with Costa and Cohen.
“Delighted that you’re moving up in the world, Danny,” said Mr Bristow, shaking Danny’s hand. “But we’re a little sad that you’ll be moving out.”
Mrs Bristow wiped her eyes. “We’ve got used to having you and little Ruby around,” she said. “And we’ve so enjoyed being close to your new-found success, Danny.”
“Watching Ruby’s progress day by day is something we’ll miss,” said Mr Bristow wistfully. “But not the night feeds. I tell you what, I’m looking forward to some order being restored in this place. Being woken by your little princess at two in the morning and a house full of baby paraphernalia hasn’t been ideal, I suppose.”