“Maybe if I take Albert something from home, he might feel a bit better. Like he’s not so much in hospital,” Lenny told Rocky.
The budgie responded with a manic fly-past, aiming for Lenny’s head. Lenny reacted like a big girl’s blouse, screaming and waving his arms about, and only calming down when Rocky settled on the lampshade.
Lenny looked around at Albert’s possessions. The glittering boxing belt would be too much to take, too ostentatious. He settled for a couple of photographs on the sideboard instead. Behind the photo frames, Lenny saw a book of birds and water fowl and, reckoning that Albert might be missing his ducks, he decided to take that too. It would be something for him to read.
With a last check, he settled the happy Rocky safely back in her nice clean cage and tapped on the bars.
“See you tomorrow, Marion,” he said.
Next up: fish and chips, and off back to Albert. Loading the booty into his newly acquired second-hand Austin Cambridge, Lenny headed to Whitechapel in search of fish and chips.
Lenny suspected that bringing fish and chips into a hospital might be frowned upon. Sticking the newspaper-wrapped cod, chips and a pickled onion (Albert’s favourite) up his jumper, and with the book and photos under his arm, he marched into the hospital.
Albert was sitting up when Lenny reached the ward.
“It’s good to see you, Lenny,” said Albert.
There was a melancholy quality to Albert’s voice. Lenny sensed that Albert, who had always felt invincible, now felt vulnerable, and didn’t like it.
As if by magic, Lenny produced the fish and chips from under his jumper. The two men looked at each other like naughty schoolboys and began to laugh. Albert’s chuckles were punctuated by a few ouches from the broken rib department, but Lenny was full on, tears running down his face as he sneaked the rations into Albert’s waiting lap and under the covers.
Matron came by, inspecting the ward. She hovered, her nose twitching.
“What’s that smell?” she asked. “Smells like fish.”
“Sorry Matron,” Albert said. “It’s my friend here, Lenny. He works in Billingsgate Fish Market.” He looked at Lenny. “I told you to take a bath before you came here, didn’t I Len?”
An outraged Lenny could only nod his head in reluctant agreement.
Matron looked Lenny up and down with disapproval, then continued with her inspection. No sooner had she gone than Albert was tucking in. He didn’t even offer Lenny a chip.
“I brought you some stuff from home too, make it feel a bit less like a hospital,” Lenny said, and showed Albert the book and photos.
“What d’ya wanna do that for?”
“Thought it might help, that’s all.”
Albert sighed. “Stick ’em on the side. How was Rocky, all right?”
“You mean Marion?” Lenny teased. “She was fine.”
Albert broke into a smile. “Thanks mate,” he said. “I appreciate it. Seen Danny and Patsy since you got back?”
“Not yet. I’ll probably see them at the gym tonight.”
Lenny felt uncomfortable. He had not let either Danny or Patsy know that Albert was laid up in hospital yet.
“What did Danny say when you told him about me?” asked Albert. “Probably couldn’t care less.”
“He was really upset,” Lenny lied.
Albert looked pleased and surprised. “Was he?”
Lenny cleared his throat. “I’d better be off,” he said. “Give me the evidence.”
Checking for Matron, Albert passed him the empty fish and chip paper stashed under his pillow.
“Thanks, Lenny mate,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Lenny. “See you tomorrow.”
Lenny was suddenly eager to get to the Live and Let Live to let Danny and Patsy know Albert’s unhappy fate. He felt guilty that he had told Albert a lie, and wanted to put it right as soon as possible. He drove to his workshop and parked his car, then walked on to the pub, thinking how much things had changed – and not for the better.
Inside, Maria was manning the bar for the sprinkling of early-drinking locals.
“Did you see Albert, Len?” she asked.
“Yes, I paid him a visit,” said Lenny.
“And how was the silly sod?”
“Grumpy but all right.”
“So when is he coming back?” Maria demanded. “I get no help from that lazy sod,” she added with venom, pointing at Maurice.
“I think it’s gonna take time,” admitted Lenny. “He’s bust up pretty good, leg and wrist and ribs.”
Maria uttered a few Italian swear words under her breath as Maurice silently poured Lenny his usual.
“All right, Maurice?” said Lenny.
“All right,” Maurice grunted.
Maurice was a man of few words who seemed to have the world on his shoulders. Maria’s nagging over the years had taken its toll, worn him down, and he seemed almost detached from the world around him. He drank too much and was hardly ever without a slim, cheap cigar stuck tentatively in the corner of his downturned lips. Lenny could only remember seeing him smile once, when a horse he had backed came in at thirty-three to one and Maurice secured, unusually for him, a win at the bookies.
Lenny accepted Maurice’s usual lack of bonhomie and headed off to make more meaningful conversation with a couple of locals. They had just started discussing Danny’s loss, when the man himself came bouncing through the door.
“You got back then, Lenny?” Danny said. “You missed a good drink.”
To Lenny, Danny seemed high on something, his eyes unfocused and his hands trembling.
“Yeah, I bet,” Lenny remarked. “Drowning your sorrows ain’t no bad thing. But I needed to get back as soon as I could.”
“Why’s that, Len?”
Lenny patted the seat beside him. “Sit down, Danny,” he said. “I’ve got something to tell you. I should have probably told you last night, but I couldn’t add to your problems. It’s about Albert.”
Danny’s eyes stopped darting around the pub and fixed on Lenny at once.
“Sit down,” Lenny repeated.
Danny sat down. “You’re making me nervous, Len,” he said. “What’s happened to Albert?”
“Albert got knocked down by a car a couple of days ago,” said Lenny. “He’s in hospital.”
Danny’s face went pale with shock and disbelief. “When?”
“The same night as the fight.”
All the air seemed to go out of Danny. He looked down at the faded red carpet that covered the bar floor. “How bad is it?”
“It’s pretty bad. Broken bones, the lot.”
Danny slammed the table with his fist. “If he had been with us, this wouldn’t have happened, stubborn old git! Where is he?”
“In the hospital in Whitechapel.”
“So what, you’ve seen him then?”
“Yeah,” Lenny said, smiling slightly. “I took him some fish and chips.”
“Typical,” said Danny. “I’m gonna go and see him.”
“We can go together if you like,” Lenny suggested.
“I’ll come and get you at two,” Danny said.
Danny went upstairs to the gym to calm down. The lights were out, and as he stood trembling at the top of the stairs, he could see the shadows of the punch bags and the ropes around the ring from the street lights. The smell of leather and sweat pervaded the emotive surroundings.
He remembered the very first night he’d walked into the place. It had felt strange, like another world then. But now, it felt like his world. A world of late he had forgotten. Warm thoughts of Albert filled him. The old man had been the spark that lit the fire.
Albert was here in spirit. Danny could feel him. Taking one last look at the darkened gym, he nodded respectfully.
“Thank you, Albert,” he said.
The next afternoon at two o’clock sharp, Danny pulled up at Lenny’s garage, armed with a bunch of flowers and a bunch of bananas.
“Ready when you are, Lenny,” Danny said, flowers in hand.