“It stops now,” Albert ordered. “Danny will fight on clean, got it? You just focus on training a future champion, not a cheat.”
Patsy sank into his chair with his head in his hands as Albert stalked out of the gym and headed downstairs to the bar, where Maria flashed him one of her rare smiles and set him to work.
It was good to be back.
If Danny was struggling to shake off his addiction, he hid it well. He made it to training a little pale at times, but he was always punctual. The incentive of putting his life back together was winning against the dark demons of his addiction. The old Danny was starting to shine through.
With Patsy and Danny now back on course, Albert started to think about wrestling control from Costa and Cohen. With Danny behind him, he now had the power.
“We need to arrange a meeting with them two clowns,” Albert told Danny several weeks into the new regime. “Let’s fix it up at the Bridge House pub in Canning Town. Let them come to us for a change. The mountain to Mohammed, sort of thing.”
Danny arranged the meeting with Costa and Cohen as instructed. The men weren’t happy with the venue, but agreed to come at one o’clock the following day after Danny stressed how important it was. Albert asked Patsy to attend, and he had nervously agreed.
On his usual mission to the duck pond, Albert went over the things he wanted to say and the points he planned to make. When he returned to his flat, instead of the usual suit, he put on a tailored black leather jacket that Danny had bought for him as a coming-home present. He looked sharp, and a bit tougher than usual.
Danny’s car horn sounded from down in the street. With a last check in the cracked mirror in the bathroom, Albert grabbed his walking stick and made for the car.
“This meeting could get a bit bumpy, Danny,” he warned as Danny drove them through the familiar streets. “Are you all right with that?”
Looking pale but focused, Danny nodded. “We need to get some answers and straighten things out,” he said. “I feel good about it.”
It wasn’t far to the Bridge House. After parking outside, Danny and Albert went in.
The pub was quiet at this time of day. Most of the pub’s business was at night, enticed there by the strippers that regularly performed. It had a section of Victorian booths, ideal for a private meeting.
Already seated in a booth was Patsy, nervously tapping a beer mat on the dark mahogany table. Albert and Danny came to join him.
“Do you want a drink, Pat?” Albert asked,
“I think I might need one after this,” Patsy muttered.
On cue, Cohen and Costa materialised.
“Gentlemen,” said Cohen. His eyes rested on Albert for a moment.
“Drink, anyone?” offered Costa. “Jack Daniel’s, Danny?”
“A couple of orange juices,” Albert said firmly.
“Nice and healthy,” said Costa with a grin. “Cheap too.”
“Nice to see you, Albert,” said Cohen, sitting down. “Danny told me the news. Grandad, eh? What a coincidence. Nice, very nice.” His words were warm, but the way they were delivered was ice cold.
Costa came back with the drinks and sat down.
“So,” Cohen said, “what’s your grandad doing here, Danny?”
“Albert is back on the team,” Danny replied. “I asked him.”
“Is that wise?” Cohen asked.
Albert tightened his grip on his walking stick, but said nothing.
“It’s my decision, Jack,” said Danny.
Cohen snorted. “Back on the team? What does that even mean, back on the team?”
Albert lifted his walking stick and smashed it down on the table. Patsy flinched. Costa spilled his whisky down his expensive suit in surprise.
“I’ll tell you what it means,” Albert said, leaning close to Cohen. “It means you stop giving the boy drugs. If he’s gonna fight, he’s gonna fight clean.”
“Whoa,” said Costa, mopping down his suit. “We had a shot at the title lined up and was giving Danny a little help. That’s all.”
“You reckon?” said Albert. “You are teaching the boy to cheat.”
Cohen turned to Danny, tipping his head at Albert. “What’s his problem?”
“I think it’s you,” Danny replied.
“They was only amphetamines, Albert,” complained Costa. “Just to help.”
Albert crashed the stick back on the table, this time with even more force. “No more drugs,” he repeated, “title fight or not. Got it? That’s the way it’s gonna be, right Danny?”
“That’s the way it’s gonna be,” Danny forcefully agreed.
“Easy now, take it easy,” Cohen soothed, switching on the charm. “We seem to have a clash of opinions.”
“No,” said Danny. “From now on there is only one opinion, and that’s Albert’s.”
Cohen’s expression hardened. “I see,” he said. “I think we could fall out over this.”
Albert was still on the attack. He pointed his stick at Cohen. “Pay Danny what he was owed for the last fight, or it may well be his last fight for you.”
“Perhaps it will be his last fight,” Cohen sneered. “After the fiasco of the Livermore fight, your boy was a shambles. We’ll take another look at the accounts, but there were considerable costs.”
“We can still work with you,” said Albert. He shot a glance at Patsy, who had sunk down low in his seat. “But in the future, your take will be ten per cent and not fifty.”
There was an almost theatrical intake of air from Costa.
Albert delivered his ultimatum. “We’ll leave you to think it over,” he said. “Give us an answer by the end of the week. Come on, Danny. We’re leaving.”
“That was impressive,” said Danny as he and Albert walked to the car.
“They need you Danny,” Albert said. “You can call the tune, believe me.”
Danny rubbed his forehead. “I hope you’re right,” he said. “But what if they don’t give me the money they owe me and they won’t take a smaller cut? I don’t want to give up boxing, do I? Then there’s the contract I signed.”
“Stop worrying,” said Albert. “It’s gonna be all right.”
They reached Albert’s flat. Danny switched off the engine. They sat in silence for a few moments.
“Thanks, Grandad,” Danny said.
“Still can’t get used to that,” Albert remarked. “I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven in the gym. And don’t be late!”
Danny watched from the car as Albert negotiated his walking stick, key and front door. He thought about how strong Albert had been at the meeting, the opposite to the silent Patsy. It felt good to have him back on his side and fighting his corner. Costa and Cohen were the ones with the reputation, but Albert had put them in their place.
But as he drove home, doubts crept in again. It was true that Albert had stood his ground for all the right reasons, for Danny and his family’s benefit, but it had thrown Danny’s fight future into uncertainty. All Danny wanted to do was take care of his family and succeed in his chosen sport. The thought of complicating the situation worried him, not to mention the potential repercussions from the underworld that Costa and Cohen belonged to.
Serious training went on over the next few days, but there was an uncertainty in Danny’s commitment. It was hard to train and focus not knowing if and when the next fight would take place.
The team, though, was upbeat, and confident that the outcome would be positive. Patsy had to some extent returned to the camp, and was back to putting Danny through his paces. When he could, Lenny would come by and watch Danny sparring. Just having Lenny and Albert around felt right to Danny, whatever the outcome.
After two weeks, Danny’s state of limbo was beginning to take its toll.
He needed to talk to Costa and Cohen, but worried that it might be a sign of weakness.