At the last minute, he decided to make a detour to Lenny’s garage.
Lenny was in his usual position underneath a car.
“I’ve brought someone to see you, Lenny,” Danny told Lenny’s legs.
“Is that you, Danny?” came Lenny’s voice from underneath an exhaust pipe.
“You remember Ruby, Len,” Danny said as Lenny slid out from underneath the car. “Ruby? This is your uncle Lenny.”
Lenny’s face lit up. “Ain’t she got big?” he said, as Ruby wriggled and fretted in Danny’s arms. “Beautiful too. Good job she takes after her mother. Let me wash me hands so I can hold her.”
“She’s all yours,” said Danny.
As soon as Lenny took her, Ruby stopped fretting and became still and serene.
“I think she likes me,” Lenny said proudly. “She’s got taste.”
Lifting the little girl high in the air, Lenny then started to sing a soft lullaby, making up the words as he went along. Ruby was hooked, a wondering smile spreading across her little face.
Danny loved seeing them together. “You look like the perfect grandad, Lenny,” he said in admiration.
Lenny finished his song. A mesmerised Ruby had already fallen into a happy sleep in his arms. Taking Ruby from Lenny, Danny put her gently in the pram.
“She is lovely,” Lenny said, looking down at the pram. “You’re a lucky boy.”
“I know,” said Danny. “So did you hear about Albert? Leaving and that?”
Lenny made a face. “He told me,” he said. “He thinks a lot of you, Danny, but not a lot of Costa and Cohen.”
“That ain’t a reason to leave,” said Danny, fishing for answers.
“He’s got his reasons,” was Lenny’s enigmatic reply. “He didn’t want to talk too much about it.”
It seemed to Danny that Lenny either wouldn’t or couldn’t throw more light on Albert’s decision.
“I know where he lives,” he said aloud. “Above that junk shop. I could go and have a chat with him, maybe. You know, away from the Live and Let Live.”
“Not a good idea,” said Lenny. “Albert don’t have visitors. He has let me in his flat only twice all the years I’ve known him. So Danny, I hear Costa and Cohen are working for you, got your next fight planned?”
Danny reluctantly dropped the subject of Albert. “Yeah, they’re doing good. I’m fighting Billy Livermore in a few months’ time.”
Lenny whistled. “Now that’ll be a tall order,” he said with a smile. “But don’t you worry. Your number-one fan will be there to support you.”
This statement of loyalty meant a lot to Danny. With Albert gone, he’d felt sort of abandoned. Having Lenny around at least would be something.
They wished each other warm goodbyes and Danny headed back to Wendy’s house. As he pushed the pram along the cobbles, Danny allowed himself to focus on the task ahead. Albert or no Albert, he was going to give the Livermore fight all he had. His family deserved it. His future depended on it.
The next few months were busy. Danny tried to avoid the distraction of moving, leaving most of it to Wendy and her willing parents. His priority was to be fit and ready for the fight.
Lenny had kindly lent him a Ford Zodiac, and after a handful of lessons and a near-botched driving test, Danny was soon driving back and forwards to the gym. Patsy had Danny working well, and the occasional sighting of Albert at the Live and Let Live was not as awkward as it could have been.
It was true, though, that things with Albert were different. Albert never watched Danny train any more, and their conversation was little more than small talk. Albert would occasionally take Patsy aside and ask how Danny was doing, but that was the extent of his involvement. There was a chill between Danny and Albert now, although their relationship had not entirely frozen over.
On the other hand Costa and Cohen were getting closer to Danny every day. There were almost daily visits to check on progress. They brought sports writers to interview Danny, photographers to capture the boy, and food supplements to aid his concentration.
“Vitamins, are they?” said Patsy, examining the supplements one day.
“Only the best for our boy,” said Cohen.
“Whatever they are, they’re working,” said Patsy as they watched Danny pummel the pads with renewed aggression. “His stamina, strength and energy have all improved.”
“How’s his temper?” asked Costa, casually examining his fingernails. “Along with the benefits, these vitamins can sometimes get a fighter a little worked up.”
“Short,” said Patsy.
Cohen and Costa nodded as if they’d expected that.
“There’s always side effects,” said Cohen. “Worth it though, right?”
Patsy watched Danny work through his routine. “Worth it,” he agreed.
After each tough training session, Danny would climb in his borrowed Zodiac and drive home to his new house and family.
Wendy and her mum had performed miracles in Chigwell. Most of the moving boxes were now empty, and furniture was being delivered daily. Ruby loved being in the garden. The new house was starting to feel like home.
Danny loved the house. He felt a sense of achievement having put a roof over his family’s head. As for the sky-blue Zodiac, he especially loved the bench seat and the column gear change. It wasn’t a Porsche, but he did feel like one of his heroes, James Dean, as he motored from East London to leafy Essex. He had paid Lenny a deposit, and promised to pay the balance from the takings of the upcoming contest.
Things were good in Danny’s life. Patsy was pleased with his progress, and although Danny still missed Albert and his words of wisdom, there was a job to do and he had to be ready.
Days were peppered with the odd press interview and a lot of serious preparation for the big fight. Patsy and Danny had watched film footage of Livermore nearly every day, looking for a weakness, a soft underbelly, an opening that Danny could attack.
“He’s over-confident,” Patsy told Danny as they watched the footage. “Look, he drops his guard too much. He’s strong coming forward but not so secure in defence. Pushing him back will be a good option, I reckon.”
Cohen found a couple of new sparring partners for Danny, fighters that mirrored Livermore’s aggressive style. Danny found it useful, but was of course aware that the real thing would be a tougher nut to crack.
As the months passed, Danny and Patsy started to frequent Costa’s club in Soho. The good life was seductive, and without a firm date for the fight, it was easy to drift into late nights and too much alcohol.
One night, Danny observed Costa roll up a five-pound note into a tight tube and sniff some white powder through it.
“What you doing?” he asked.
Costa pinched his nose. “Just a little pick-me-up,” he answered, smiling. “Here, try it.”
Danny took the note and copied Costa, sniffing the white powder. The buzz was almost immediate. He liked it.
“You got any more of that?” he asked.
Costa was more than happy to supply Danny with the cocaine whenever Danny asked. Danny started asking too often. Before long, Wendy and even Ruby had become second to Danny’s new lifestyle.
Arguments were becoming frequent events. Danny’s mood swings and short temper made him difficult to live with.
“You’ve changed so much,” a tearful Wendy said one night. “You hardly acknowledge Ruby when she calls you Daddy. You ignore me too. It’s like we’re not even here. What’s happening to you?”
Danny felt twitchy and ill. “What’s happening to you, you mean?” he bit back. “You ain’t the girl I married. All you care about is bloody Ruby.”
“So?” Wendy spat. “Don’t you think you should care about her too?”
Danny got up. “I don’t need this.”
But Wendy was in full flow. “It seems to me all you care about is going out all night,” she said, following him out of the room. “This is not working, Danny. I’ve had enough, you hear me? When you are here, it’s like you’re some-where else!”