Faded Glory

by David Essex

  By the time he got to Wendy’s, her mother and father had gone to bed. He could see Wendy through the net curtains, sitting up waiting for him. He tapped three times on the stained-glass window in the front door, an attractive piece of glass with the figure of a sail boat etched in it.

  “I won Wend,” Danny said, grinning, as his girlfriend opened the door. “Although it was given as a draw. What a night. Wait till you hear about it.”

  “Oh my God Danny, look at your face!” Wendy’s eyes were wide as she took in Danny’s bruises. She grabbed his hand. “Come in. We need to talk.”

  For women, “talking” meant emotion and feelings. Words that spelled terror to most men, Danny among them. His gut lurched as Wendy ushered him into the living room and closed the door.

  “Sit down, Danny,” she said.

  Danny sat nervously on the sofa. “What’s the matter, what is it?” he asked, feeling like he’d been summoned by the headmistress.

  That’s when the bombshell landed.

  “I’m pregnant,” Wendy said.

  “What?” said Danny.

  “I am pregnant,” Wendy repeated with a touch more volume. “Having a baby. With child.”

  “Oh, pregnant,” said Danny, stunned. “Right.”

  A strange mixture of emotions flooded through him. Shock, pride and fear, all at the very same time.

  “Right,” he repeated.

  “I’ve not told Mum and Dad yet,” said Wendy anxiously.

  “Right,” Danny repeated.

  He was beginning to sound like a broken record stuck in a groove. His head was bursting with thoughts. Searching, thinking of options, thinking of consequences.

  “What shall we do?” Wendy said, her voice small and scared.

  Suddenly for Danny, everything was clear. This baby was a confirmation of their love for each other from way back when they were just children, when Danny had defended Wendy from the ginger jibes. The beautiful crowning glory for two childhood sweethearts who had turned into adults and were still deeply in love. Soulmates, as Wendy often said.

  Danny put his arms around Wendy and held her close. He felt her relax against him. They were having a child of their own. That very special bond of parenthood was going to be theirs now. It was time to jump into the unknown.

  “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “I love you, Wend.”

  *

  They talked well into the night about all the changes they would need to make. They discussed a few names for the baby, both girls’ and boys’. They talked about money, and how they would cope.

  “I met these two fellas tonight,” Danny said as Wendy rested her head on his shoulder. “They reckon I could turn professional with their help, maybe make some money. I’ll meet them, talk to them.”

  They were both aware that the most immediate hurdle was to tell Wendy’s parents. Danny was no coward, but the thought of confronting Wendy’s strait-laced folks with the news of a baby conceived out of wedlock was nerve-racking. But he realised that if they were going to have this baby, goodwill from Wendy’s folks was an important factor.

  “So you’ll come over tomorrow?” said Wendy as Danny kissed her good night. “We can tell Mum and Dad together.”

  He was twenty-three, but Danny had always felt like a boy. For the first time tonight, he truly felt like a man, facing all the responsibility that a baby would bring. He felt ready for it, ready to take it on, whatever the outcome, whatever Wendy’s parents thought.

  “Of course I will,” he said, holding Wendy tightly. “I’ll be here at six.”

  *

  Danny spent most of the next day thinking about how Wendy’s folks might react. He practised little speeches, tried to imagine the questions they would be asked and what answers he would give. He guessed Wendy was doing more or less the same on her shift at the sugar factory. It seemed a longer day than usual, as Danny longed to get everything over with and out in the open.

  On the dot of six, Danny arrived at the Bristows’ looking as smart and responsible as he could. He knew that his shiner of a left eye might take the edge off his carefully thought-out presentation, but it couldn’t be helped.

  Wendy greeted him with a reassuring hug and kiss.

  Danny patted her back. “Don’t worry Wend,” he said. “It’ll be all right.”

  Mr Bristow had not made it home from work yet. Wendy and Danny waited tensely in the living room as Mrs Bristow bustled around the kitchen peeling potatoes for the evening meal.

  “That’s quite a bruise you’ve got there, Danny,” she said. “Did you win the fight?”

  “Yes, Mrs Bristow,” said Danny. His throat felt dry with nervousness. “Although the ring collapsed so they called it a draw.”

  “That sounds dangerous,” said Mrs Bristow. “Wendy love, can you lay the table?”

  Danny watched the clock on the mantelpiece as Wendy laid out the cutlery. What if he couldn’t actually speak when the moment came? What if he failed to make his point and prove himself as a responsible future father of the Bristows’ grandchild? He’d decided to call it “the forthcoming baby”. It sounded better than “Wendy’s pregnant”.

  “Are you all right for a drink, Danny?” asked Mrs Bristow.

  Danny and Wendy had agreed they would tell her parents together, although part of Danny thought that if the news was broken to Mrs Bristow first and she was positive about it, they could get her on side to convince Mr Bristow.

  “I’m fine, Mrs Bristow,” he said, with as much charm as he could muster.

  He hadn’t got round to telling his own mother the news as yet, but he knew it wouldn’t be a problem. Rosie was so wrapped up in her own world that as long as the newborn didn’t clip her wings in any way, she would be fine. Telling Mr Bristow was going to be something else entirely.

  A key sounded in the door.

  “I’m home,” said Mr Bristow cheerfully. “What’s for dinner?”

  Danny jumped to his feet, but Wendy grabbed his arm and dragged him back to the sofa. They looked at each other. This was it.

  “Come into the living room, Dad,” Wendy said. “Mum? Leave the dinner for a moment. I – we’ve got something to tell you.”

  “Something good?” said Mr Bristow, taking off his shiny black shoes and putting on his tartan slippers as Mrs Bristow appeared from the kitchen with a questioning look on her face.

  “Danny and I have an announcement,” said Wendy. She paused and took a breath. “We’re having a baby.”

  Danny smiled as brightly and hopefully as he could, stretching out for Wendy’s hand. “And we’re really happy,” he added.

  “Right,” said Mr Bristow.

  Danny was reminded of his own reaction to Wendy’s news, except Mr Bristow’s “Right” had a different undercurrent.

  There followed a strange silence. Danny felt like he was in the dark, without a clue whether the news was going down well or badly.

  Mr Bristow paced across the room, stopping by the fireplace to tap and empty his pipe into the grate. Danny watched, holding his breath.

  “Do you intend to have this baby?” Mr Bristow asked at last.

  Wendy’s face showed a determination to keep the situation calm.

  “Yes Dad,” she said. “We want to have it. We’re happy about it.”

  “We do love each other,” Danny put in.

  “And we will love the baby,” said Wendy.

  Mr Bristow reached for his tobacco pouch, filled his pipe meticulously with tobacco and lit it, resulting in a cloud of blue, sweet-smelling smoke. As the first cloud of smoke evaporated into the tense air, he looked Danny in the eye.

  “You’ll be getting married, of course,” he said.

  “Of course,” said Danny hurriedly. The thought of a wedding was not really on the top of his list, and a shot-gun wedding had never entered his mind.

  “Good,” said Mr Bristow. “That’s good.”

  The awkwardness was broken unexpectedly by Mrs Bristow.

&nb
sp; “Well!” she said, giving her daughter a loving hug. She extended her arms to Danny. “I’m pleased for both of you! My goodness, so many plans to make!”

  Mr Bristow’s expression softened a little. “This will change your lives, you know that,” he said.

  Danny nodded. “For the better, sir.”

  “I hope so, son,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll go and get washed and changed for tea.”

  When he had gone upstairs, Mrs Bristow smiled encouragingly at Danny.

  “Mr B’s a little old-fashioned,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not right that you’re not married and having a little one, but I know how much you care about each other and I know this baby will be well loved. And you, my little girl,” she said, turning to Wendy, “you will be a good mother.”

  Wendy gave her mother a big hug, dragging Danny into the embrace. Danny closed his eyes in relief as warmth and love filled the room.

  Over sausage and mash, there were many happy logistics from Mrs Bristow about wedding plans and baby plans. It was as if she had been waiting for this news her whole life. Mr Bristow had a more considered response, bringing practicalities to the table such as: “When will the wedding be? When is the baby due? Where will the money come from? Where will you live?”

  Danny tried to make the point that he would be a good dad and support his wife and baby, even if it meant working long hours on building sites.

  “And there’s the promoters you told me about last night,” Wendy reminded him, and Danny explained about Costa and Cohen too, and how maybe there was money there if he made the professional fight circuit. He was confident in his boxing family and his ability, although he was fully aware that a baby was a lifestyle changer. If it meant working all hours as a hod carrier to give the little one the start it deserved, he was ready, willing and able.

  Wedding plans were the urgent priority.

  “You should tie the knot as soon as possible,” advised Mrs Bristow.

  “I won’t have a daughter of mine walking down the aisle six months pregnant,” cautioned Mr Bristow.

  “What would people think if you were showing under your wedding dress?” agreed Mrs Bristow.

  “You could live here,” Mr Bristow offered over dessert.

  “That would be great, Dad,” Wendy said, glancing at Danny. “But we’ll put our names down for a council place too.”

  This pleased Danny. He got on all right with his future in-laws, but having their own place would certainly feel more comfortable.

  His head was spinning after all the talk at dinner as he left Wendy with a goodnight kiss on the front porch.

  “I said it would be all right, didn’t I Wend?” he said.

  “It’s gonna be wonderful,” said Wendy happily. “Night. I love you Danny.”

  “I love you too.”

  Riding his bike home, Danny felt very grown up, ready to tackle all the trials and tribulations of being a father. His child would be brought up properly, unlike the fractured childhood that he had endured.

  He wondered how his mum was going to react to the happy news. His instinct told him that the chance for Rosie to buy a new hat for the wedding would definitely go down well. He couldn’t imagine his mum would ever make the perfect grandmother, but he suspected having the house to herself when he eventually moved out was going to be something she would enjoy.

  Rosie and Ricky were just finishing a Chinese take-away when Danny wheeled his bike through to the back and returned to the kitchen to break the news.

  “Mum,” he said at the kitchen door. “Me and Wendy are gonna get married.”

  “What d’ya want to do that for?” Ricky grunted, his mouth full of food.

  Rosie looked worried. “Don’t you think you’re too young, love?” she said.

  “I’m twenty-three, Mum,” said Danny. His eyes uncharacteristically filled with tears. “I love her, she loves me, and we are going to have a baby.”

  Ricky dropped a prawn ball. Rosie jumped up and away from her chicken chow mein, almost choking in shock. Finally, through the coughs and splutters, she managed to speak.

  “My little boy, are you sure?” Emotionally fuelled with alcohol, Rosie dramatically threw her arms round him. “Danny, listen to me, are you sure?”

  Danny attempted to calm his mother down with a few friendly pats on her back. “Yes Mum, I’m sure,” he said.

  “My little boy, a father!” Rosie cried, like a player in a Greek tragedy. “Oh Danny!”

  Ricky seemed more interested in some prawn crackers than Wendy and Danny’s nuptials. After a reluctant glass of sweet German wine to celebrate, Danny said his goodnights and escaped to his room.

  Reaching under his bed for the tin box, he took out the photo of his father.

  “Hello Dad,” he said proudly. “You’re going to be a grandad.”

  Looking at his father’s picture, Danny felt sure that his dad would look down and make sure the little one would grow up safe and sound.

  It had been a landmark night to remember.

  *

  Each morning, Albert tried to feed as many ducks as he could before his bread ran out. It was hard keeping the pigeons off and the odd seagull was a nightmare, but he did his best.

  “Albert! I’ve got something to tell you!”

  Albert looked up to see Danny running towards him. The boy was glowing about something.

  “Albert, guess what? I’m gonna be a dad! Wendy’s pregnant and we’re gonna get married!”

  “A dad? Marriage?” Albert repeated. “Blimey, son, you sure this is the right time? What about the boxing?”

  Danny wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I’ll work something out. Great, ain’t it though?”

  Albert felt concerned. Danny’s promising boxing career would come to a halt or suffer, taking second place to a family and wife. Not to mention the financial commitment of bringing up a child.

  “Kids cost money,” he said. “How are you gonna afford it? Wendy can’t work with a bun in the oven.”

  “I know she can’t,” Danny agreed. “I need to work harder at the boxing, maybe turn professional to make money.”

  Uneasiness spread through Albert. He could sense where this was going.

  “Maybe those Cohen and Costa blokes could help, you know?” Danny said casually. “So I can make some money.”

  Albert was only too aware of Cohen and Costa’s shady reputation. The thought of Danny being involved with them in any way was worrying. The thought of Danny turning professional was worrying too. But at the same time, he was respectful of Danny’s up-and-coming commitments. For the moment, it would be best to keep his powder dry and stay quiet on Costa and Cohen.

  “So you’re gonna be a dad,” he said. “I’m pleased for you, Danny.”

  “Yeah it’s great! But keep it quiet, yeah? Till we’re married?”

  “My lips are sealed,” said Albert. “She’s a nice girl too, your Wendy. I wish you both every happiness.”

  “Thanks, Albert, I appreciate it,” Danny said with a smile. “We’ve already started planning the wedding. I’ll give you your invite when they’re printed up.” He smiled shyly. “And I would like you to be my best man.”

  Albert was touched. “Lovely,” he said. “Look forward to it. Seems like you’ve got a lot of future coming your way.”

  “Yeah,” Danny agreed. “And I’m going to grab it with both hands. I want my kid to be proud of me.”

  “You do that,” said Albert. “Just keep pushing.”

  Danny shook Albert’s slightly bemused hand. “And it starts now,” he promised, with a mock punch to Albert’s shoulder.

  Albert sat on the bench and thought about Danny’s revelations as Danny headed off on the rest of his circuit training, his quest to climb the mountain of success. A change was coming, and Albert wasn’t sure it was going to be for the best.

  Walking back to his flat, he puzzled over Danny and his boxing future. He prayed the boy would circumnavigate Cohe
n and Costa. He didn’t trust them. There were too many rumours, too many shadowy dealings.

  He decided to talk to Patsy about it when he got to work.

  “You just missed a couple of visitors,” Patsy informed Albert when he arrived at the Live and Let Live. “Them two clowns, Costa and Costalotmore.”

  “What did they want?” Albert asked with trepidation.

  “They seem to believe in your Danny. They were interested in representing the boy and helping him turn professional.”

  Albert went quiet. The thought of those two wide boys being involved in Danny’s future was a chilling prospect. But if they could help Danny secure his financial future for his new family, who was he to stand in his way?

  “What did you tell ’em?”

  “To come back this evening when Danny’s in. They can speak to him directly then.”

  Albert sat down. “We need to be here, Patsy,” he said. “We don’t know what tricks they might want to pull.”

  “Yes indeed,” agreed Patsy.

  The two men exchanged grim glances.

  Tonight was going to be tough.

  *

  Danny had spent most of the day with Wendy and her busy mother, making plans for the wedding. He’d never realised how complex it was. Invites, caterers, menus, venues... His head was spinning.

  Mr Bristow had shot off earlier in his Hillman Minx to secure the local Conservative Club for the reception. He maintained that the venue had class, and he also knew of a three-piece band that played there on a Saturday night.

  “Perfect,” he had said. “Not too noisy.”

  By early evening, Danny was weddinged out, and ready for the physical and mental relief of training.

  When he got to the Live and Let Live and climbed the stairs to the gym, there was an unfamiliar smell of aftershave wafting from Patsy’s office. Through the window, Danny could see Albert, Patsy and two sharp dressers in conversation. Danny recognised them at once as Patsy beckoned him into the office.

  “Danny!” said Costa, jumping up from a chair and giving Danny an overly affectionate hug. Over Costa’s shoulder, Danny could see distaste and contempt radiating from Albert.