“Don’t even think about losing,” Albert had said.
Danny checked his watch for the tenth time. Ten minutes to go before they had to leave. His bag was packed and sitting by the door. It had been ready for hours. So had Danny.
He needed to stop thinking of what might be and what might not. It was time to get going. Time to get this battle on. He had prepared for months, and this was his moment.
Along with Albert, Patsy and Lenny, Danny had studied endless films of Livermore. He knew what he was facing and how tough it was going to be.
He left his room and walked through the hotel corridor to the lift. More of Albert’s words came into his head. Just believe you’re the best, and there’s a good chance you will be the best.
Patsy and Lenny were already waiting at reception.
Putting his arm around Danny’s shoulder, Patsy said: “Can we have a word?”
Danny let the big Irishman lead him to a quieter corner.
“Danny,” Patsy began. “I want you to know how pleased I am that Albert is back. I want to apologise if my loyalty to you and Albert has ever been in question. My priority has always been to see you reach your potential, and cosying up to Costa and Cohen was wrong. I’m sorry.”
There was truth and real regret in Patsy’s eyes. For Patsy, this was a big step. To show any emotion at all was unusual.
Danny shook Patsy’s hand. “Water under the bridge, Patsy,” he said. “Let’s get this fight on, eh?”
Patsy looked to be on the verge of tears. “You bet,” he said. “And you know what? You’re gonna win.”
“How can you charge people top whack for a night’s kip when a fire alarm wakes ’em up and you herd everyone into a car park in the pissing rain for half the night?”
Danny and Patsy both looked round at the hotel reception desk. Albert was arguing his case for a reduction to the bill. The hotel manager was looking nervous and awkward as Albert’s voice rose in volume.
“And don’t give me any of that bollocks about company policy, you hear?”
“We’re terribly sorry sir,” said the manager. “In the circumstances, and after due consideration, we would be prepared to offer you a discount.”
Danny watched as money changed hands. Deal done, Albert headed their way, looking pleased with himself.
“It’s the principle of the thing,” he said with a sharp nod. “Now, let’s go and knock this Livermore bloke out.”
With purpose and a collective energy, Danny and his team made their way to the venue. Dropping their bags in their allocated room, they decided to take a look at the battleground while it was still empty.
Danny whistled, looking around the cavernous space. “Look at the size of this place!” he said.
“It’s big,” Albert agreed with a smile. “And every ticket sold out. In just a few hours, the place will be packed.”
They stood around for a while and watched the Wembley Arena staff place chairs and vacuum with a vengeance.
“Right,” said Patsy at last. “Let’s go back to the room and do some warming up. Time to get focused, and then relax.”
Back in the changing room, Danny hit some pads and did some gentle skipping to loosen up while Albert listened to the radio for the football results. In the nineteen sixty-seven season, West Ham were in their usual mid-table position. As Danny lay on the massage table being pummelled by Patsy, Albert leaped to his feet.
“Yes!” he cried, waving his walking stick and doing a jig that resembled something out of Mary Poppins. “Five nil to the Cockney boys! What about that, Danny boy? West Ham five, Newcastle nil! Now that’s a good omen if ever there was one.”
Danny tried to smile, wincing at Patsy’s less than gentle massage and managing a strangled: “Come on you Irons.”
Albert grinned. “I’m just gonna take a look at how it’s going in the hall.”
Albert walked into the hall and stood by the ringside, looking up at row upon row of empty seats.
“The calm before the storm,” he said to himself. “Come on Danny.”
Three men stood in a huddle on the far side of the room, having a whispered conversation. Moving a bit closer, Albert saw it was Costa and Cohen and the referee for the night, Stan Webster.
Knowing Costa and Cohen and their history of dirty tricks, it seemed obvious to Albert that Webster was looking a little too friendly with the two promoters. Albert had always thought that Webster was a straight and honest referee, but now he wasn’t so sure. He thought about confronting them, but decided against it.
A trickle of fight fans was beginning to take their seats. Albert headed back to the changing room, where Danny was recovering from Patsy’s over-zealous pummelling.
“How’s it looking, Albert?” he asked.
Albert pushed the image of Costa, Cohen and Webster to the back of his mind. Mentioning it to Danny might dent the boy’s confidence. “All good mate,” he replied. “They’re just starting the support bouts. I reckon we’ve got about an hour and a half to the fight.”
“Right, good,” said Danny. “I just wanna get going.”
“Yeah, I know. Won’t be long now. How you feeling?”
“Really nervous,” Danny admitted.
Albert could see the child in his grandson’s eyes. The look reminded him of Tommy, whenever Tommy had been scared of being told off by his dad.
“That’s all right,” Albert soothed. “Nerves ain’t a bad thing. You don’t wanna be too cocky. Nerves can put you on your guard.”
He sat down next to Danny. “You have every right to that title. You have worked for it. You came out of a dark place, and you deserve it. Just do what we have worked on a thousand times, and you will be the new British title holder, I promise.”
Danny nodded. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said.
Albert put his arm round his grandson. It was a special moment.
“I love you Danny,” he said.
“I love you too, Grandad.”
Patsy and Lenny came back in the room.
“They reckon about half an hour, then it’s us,” said Patsy.
“That Livermore must be quaking in his boots,” said Lenny, ever the optimist.
Harry Baldock put his head round the door.
“Go well tonight, son,” he shouted to Danny. Then nodding at Albert, “Albert, can I have a quick word?”
Albert followed Harry outside. Looking around to make sure he was not overheard, Harry spoke in whispers.
“Albert, I thought I better tell you that I think Costa and Cohen have got to one of the judges, given him a back-hander.”
“How d’ya know?”
“A friend of mine, a bookie, told me.”
Albert wasn’t surprised by Harry’s tip-off.
“I think they’ve got the ref in their pocket too, the bastards,” he said with feeling.
Harry nodded. “Just thought I’d tell ya. But whatever happens, the boy’s gonna make good money tonight. It’s packed out there.”
“Thanks for letting me know, Harry,” said Albert, rubbing his chin. “I appreciate it.”
Back into the room, Patsy was bandaging Danny’s hands.
“What did Harry want?” said Danny, looking round.
Albert thought on his feet. “He was just saying how well the tickets have gone and that.”
“You got Dad’s medal?”
“Here in my pocket Danny,” said Albert. “Safe and sound.”
“Ready when you are,” said someone in a bow tie and dinner suit who had poked his head round the door.
Patsy firmly tied Danny’s boxing gloves. Albert draped an English flag over Danny’s shoulders and hung Danny’s father’s medal around his neck. To the music of Land of Hope and Glory, Danny and his team entered the auditorium.