Faded Glory

by David Essex

  “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.

  “Oh you shouldn’t have,” replied Lenny, taking the flowers from Danny and doing his best blushing-bride impersonation.

  “They’re for Albert, you git,” said Danny, snatching the flowers back. “I just wanted to know if you reckon he’d like ’em.”

  Lenny clapped him on the back. “I don’t think he’ll think much of them, but he’ll think a lot of the thought behind them.”

  “So I should take ’em then?” asked Danny, now in two minds.

  “Yeah man, he’ll be pleased to see you, and the bananas.”

  “What about the flowers?”

  “Beautiful.”

  They got into Danny’s car and headed for the hospital.

  “So he’s in a bad way?” Danny asked as they drove.

  “He’s a war horse,” Lenny said reassuringly. “He’ll be all right.”

  Danny squinted through the windscreen. His eyes had been doing something funny lately, blurring and giving him bother.

  “Do you want me to drive?” Lenny asked.

  Danny shook his head. “No you’re all right. My eyes get a bit blurry sometimes.”

  “You should get ’em tested,” said Lenny.

  Danny said nothing.

  As they approached the hospital, Danny had mixed feelings. Things of late with Albert had been a little frosty. He wanted to see Albert, but wasn’t totally convinced Albert wanted to see him. There was that other feeling you get too, a feeling of apprehension when visiting someone in hospital, when you want to see them, but don’t want to see what they have become.

  Danny parked up and walked to the hospital entrance with Lenny.

  “Come on, it’s this way,” said Lenny.

  They walked down the corridors. Danny tried to tune out the cries of pain and reflected on mortality. He was a young and fit man who hadn’t been around sick and hurting people much. Maybe losing a boxing match was not the end of the world. There were worse things in life.

  “Tough times for some folk,” Lenny said, noticing Danny’s change of mood as they took the stairs.

  “When I go,” Danny told Lenny, “I don’t wanna go in a place like this. I wanna go under a big oak tree in a field in the country, with Wendy and Ruby by my side.”

  Lenny put his hand on Danny’s shoulder. “I understand, man,” he said.

  Danny brought his thoughts back to the purpose of their visit. “So where’s Albert then?”

  “He’s up here on the left. Come on.”

  Albert was napping when they reached his bed. Danny was shocked to see the state he was in. He and Lenny stood at Albert’s bedside, unable to decide whether to wake him or let him sleep on.

  Albert made the decision for them by opening one eye.

  “Afternoon Albert,” Lenny said. “Look who’s here to see you.”

  Albert raised his head with difficulty. “Hello Danny.”

  Danny tried to cover his shock. “Blimey Albert,” he said. “You have been in the wars.”

  “You could say that,” Albert agreed.

  “It’s good to see you,” Danny said truthfully. “Did you hear about the fight? Technical knock-out, they called it.”

  “Lenny told me all about it,” Albert replied. “I’m sorry, Danny.”

  Danny fiddled with his collar. “So how you feeling?” he asked. “Are they looking after you?”

  “They’re good people,” said Albert. “Lenny’s been to see me a few times, brought me a few bits from home. But I just wanna get out of here, really.”

  Lenny had brought Albert a couple of photos, a boxing magazine, some tea bags and a bird book. One of the photos caught Danny’s eye. It looked like the one of his father. They probably all had them done like that in the army. Reaching up, he wiped his forehead. He was sweating profusely. Thoughts of the pills in the glove compartment of his car were beginning to overwhelm him.

  “You need to put that fight with Livermore out of your mind,” Albert observed, watching him. “It’s done. On to the next, right?”

  “Not that easy though, is it?” said Danny. “I feel I let a lot of people down.”

  Albert just smiled back in an understanding way.

  Danny couldn’t stop thinking about his pills. “Well,” he said. “It’s been good to see you. I better get going, you know. Things to do.”

  Albert nodded. “Come by again if you can, it was good to see you.”

  Danny wiped his nose. “Will do,” he said. “You staying, Len?”

  Lenny nodded. “Don’t worry. I can make my own way back.”

  “Right,” said Danny, backing towards the door. “See you both soon.”

  *

  Albert watched Danny leave. He didn’t like the look of the boy.

  “He seems a bit shook up, Len,” he observed.

  “Yeah,” said Lenny. “Losing the fight and his break-up with Wendy must be hurting.”

  “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  *

  Calmer now that he’d had his pills, Danny thought about how sad it had been to see Albert bedridden as he drove home. He’d always been full of energy with a sparkle in his eyes, so this different Albert had been a shock. He’d looked old. Danny had never thought of Albert as old, but it was obvious the accident had hit him hard.

  He thought about the army photo on Albert’s bedside table and the resemblance to the photograph of his dead father.

  Kemp.

  Kemp had been Danny’s surname before Rosie changed it to his step-father’s name, Watson. Danny wondered why he had not noticed the coincidence before.

  Albert was Albert Kemp.

  The moment he reached Rosie’s house, Danny went straight to the tin box, took out the photo and studied it.

  “Kemp,” he said aloud.

  Seizing the photo and popping a couple more pills for good measure, Danny jumped back in his car and headed back to the hospital.

  When he got to the ward, Lenny was still there.

  “Albert,” said Danny, rushing to Albert’s bedside.

  “You’re back soon,” said Albert, looking startled. “Did you forget something?”

  Danny grabbed one of the photographs on Albert’s bedside table and studied it. His hands couldn’t stop shaking.

  “That’s my son,” said Albert.

  “But that’s my dad,” Danny blurted, holding his cherished photo next to Albert’s.

  Danny and Albert stared at each other in shell-shocked silence.

  “Your dad was Tommy Kemp?” said Albert at last.

  “I never thought about the surname,” Danny said. His head was spinning. “Mum changed it to Watson when she married my step-dad, Watson’s all I’ve ever known. But yeah, his name was Tommy. Tommy Kemp.”

  Albert leaned forward. “What’s your mum’s name?”

  “Rosie Watson.” Danny couldn’t believe he was having this conversation.

  “Do you know her middle name?”

  “Yeah, she hates it,” Danny whispered. “It’s Olive.”

  Albert sank back in his pillow. He looked older than Danny had ever seen him. “Rosie Olive Watson is your mum,” he said, almost to himself. “Did she tell you about your dad and what happened?”

  Danny shook his head. “No, not much. I always thought it was too painful for her to talk about.”

  “It was painful,” said Albert quietly. “Yes. Within days of being told that Tommy had died in battle, she was off like a bullet, living with another man. Pregnant with Tommy’s baby. Pregnant with you.”

  Danny’s legs felt like they were about to give way beneath him. “You knew about me?”

  “Her behaviour angered us,” Albert said simply. “Me and Vera. It caus
ed a massive family rift. I ain’t seen Rosie since, and I never saw my unborn grandchild. She – you – moved away. I had no idea where.”

  Lenny, who had been sitting as still as a stone, came to life.

  “Wait now,” he said, looking bewildered. “You saying what I think you’re saying here, Albert?”

  “Reckon I am.” Albert hadn’t taken his eyes off Danny. “Looks like I’m your grandad, Danny.”

  A wide-eyed Lenny broke into uncontrollable laughter.

  “Grandad!” he spluttered.

  “Keep it down please,” said a passing nurse.

  “Grandad!” gasped Lenny, a little more quietly.

  Danny was struggling to take it in. There had always been a bond between him and Albert, but this was incredible. They were family. Albert was his dad’s father. Albert was his grandfather.

  He could not help himself. He bent down and hugged Albert.

  Something stirred in Albert’s eyes. “Nice, son,” he whispered in Danny’s ear. “But this is really hurting my ribs.”

  Danny pulled back, half-laughing. “Sorry! I couldn’t help it. This is... This...”

  “We’ve got a lot to catch up on, Danny,” said Albert steadily.

  “We have, Grandad,” agreed Danny, catching hold of Albert’s hand with tears in his eyes. “We have.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  OVER the next few weeks Danny visited his new grandfather every day. Lenny came too, although Danny was not really convinced if the visits from Lenny were for Albert, or for the nurse from Lenny’s home town of Kingston, Jamaica, who always seemed to be on the ward.

  When he’d got used to the idea of having Albert as his grandfather, Danny steeled himself to call Wendy. He hadn’t seen her since that strange day at Rosie’s house, and he had no idea how she was going to take this news.

  “You’re joking,” Wendy said when Danny called and told her. “You’ve taken too much of something.”

  “This ain’t just wishful thinking, Wendy. It’s true. Will you come to the hospital with me so Ruby can meet her great- grandfather?”

  “I’m not ready to take you back, Danny,” warned Wendy. “Not yet. I need to see a change. A big change. I ain’t seen it yet.”

  “I understand that. But this is for Ruby, Wend. Will you come? Please?”

  “Fine,” said Wendy after a moment. “Tomorrow afternoon at the hospital. I’ll be there at two o’clock.”

  “I can give you a lift if you want,” said Danny hopefully.

  “We’ll get there by ourselves. Don’t be late.”

  At two o’clock, Danny waited anxiously outside the hospital for Wendy and Ruby to arrive. When he saw them turn the corner, he ran to meet them.

  He wanted to hug Wendy and pick up his little girl and hold them close, but Ruby looked at him like a stranger and there was still a coldness in Wendy’s eyes.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said awkwardly. “Can you believe this?” He smiled at Ruby, hoping she might warm to him. “Do you want to meet your great-grandad, Ruby?”

  Ruby looked up to her mother for approval. “Grandad,” she said. “Yes.”

  “Come on then,” Danny said.

  Wendy and Ruby followed Danny to Albert’s ward. Ruby seemed fascinated by this new and strange place, waving to almost everyone she passed. Danny showed her which button to push in the lift, which pleased Ruby no end. Not quite a breakthrough, but a smile to Danny melted his heart.

  “Oh my goodness,” said Albert as they came into the ward. “How wonderful to see you, Wendy. And you, look at you, Ruby, you big girl!”

  “Why is your leg up in the air?” asked Ruby.

  “That is a very good question,” said Albert. “The nice nurse said it would make it better.”

  “Oh, better,” Ruby replied.

  Albert looked at Wendy. “She’s beautiful,” he said. “You’re doing a great job, Wendy, it can’t be easy.”

  Danny flushed, but Wendy smiled.

  “I got a new dolly called Pinky,” Ruby announced.

  “What a nice name,” said Albert, returning his attention to the little girl. “Is pink your favourite colour?”

  They chatted for a while about dolls and colours, animals and the weather and Albert’s bandages. Danny watched, and wondered if he’d ever get to chat to Ruby that way again.

  “Hope you’ll be back on your feet soon, Albert,” said Wendy at last, taking Ruby’s hand. She glanced at Danny. “Bye then.”

  “Do you want me to show you the way out?” Danny asked.

  “We’ll find it,” said Wendy.

  Ruby looked back as they reached the door of the ward. Albert blew her a kiss, and she blew one back. Danny got a wave too. It was a start, he thought. Definitely a start.

  *

  Albert was slowly on the mend, uplifted by recent events, and Danny’s visits were frequent and often. He loved hearing the stories of his late father’s adventures as a scallawag in East London.

  “Your father was fearless,” Albert told him. “Him and his mate Charlie used to swim across the Thames trying to race the Woolwich Ferry. That was until he got a clip round the ear from a copper.”

  Danny fell quiet. “Do you know where Dad’s buried?” he asked after a moment.

  “In a war cemetery in France.”

  “Whereabouts in France?”

  “A place called Brouay,” Albert answered, “along with many others.”

  “Have you been there?”

  “A long time ago,” said Albert. “Just after the war, I went with the wife: your grandmother and the love of my life. I doubt if I’ll see it again.”

  Danny smiled. “What was my nan’s name?”

  “Vera. And she was beautiful.”

  “Was my dad interested in boxing?”

  Albert nodded. “He was, and he was a decent little fighter. But football was really his first love.”

  “Why did you lose contact with my mum?” Danny asked. “You knew she’d had me.”

  “These things happen,” Albert said.

  Hearing the pain in Albert’s response, Danny put the question on the back burner.

  When Danny told Rosie that Albert was his grandfather, the colour seemed to drain from her face.

  “How do you know?” she asked faintly.

  “The photo of Albert’s son is the photo of Dad.”

  Rosie sat down. “Oh my gawd,” she said.

  “I should have worked it out quicker,” said Danny. “His surname’s Kemp, same as Dad’s.”

  “I can’t believe it,” said Rosie. “I haven’t seen Albert for what? Over twenty-five years.”

  “I know,” said Danny. “He told me.”

  Rosie became defensive. “We didn’t get on,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t think he ever liked me,” Rosie said. “He never thought I was good enough for his son, especially after...” She stopped.

  “I know you went off with my step-dad soon after Dad was killed,” Danny said. “Albert was upset about that.”

  “It was hard on me own,” Rosie said plaintively. “And perhaps Albert was right. Perhaps I wasn’t good enough.” She leaned against the kitchen table, looking tired and sad. “Albert Kemp,” she said, almost to herself. “Dear me.”

  “Perhaps you can meet up,” Danny suggested. “Talk about Dad.”

  Rosie’s face closed up. “Too much water under the bridge,” she said. And Danny couldn’t push her any further on the subject.

  *

  It wasn’t long before Albert was up and hobbling impatiently around the hospital corridors with the aid of a crutch, dressed in a new pair of tartan pyjamas and some slippers with pom poms on that Wendy and Ruby had bought for him. He actually looked, for the first time, like a grandad.

  He was ready to go now, more than ready to leave. He made his feelings known to nurses and doctors alike whenever one came by. After wearing the medical staff down to a ravelling, he was finally given the gree
n light.

  Hobbling and bobbling as fast as his plaster cast let him, down the familiar brown and cream corridor, he almost collided with a grumpy lady being wheeled along in a wheelchair on his way to the phone kiosk in reception.

  “Clifton Garage,” said Lenny, after what felt like an eternity.

  “Hello, Lenny,” said Albert. “I’ve got this broken-down wreck that needs picking up.”

  Lenny laughed. “So, you got me cake with the file in it that I sent you?”

  “Yeah, it worked a treat,” Albert replied, grinning. “I filed through the iron bars and I’m free. Do you reckon you could pick me up?”

  “On my way,” answered Lenny. “Tell that pretty Kingston girl Nurse Madeline that lover boy will be there soon.”

  “Tell her yourself, Casanova,” Albert said. “Just bloody hurry up.”

  Danny had threatened to hold a little homecoming party for Albert at his house in Chigwell if Wendy agreed but, thankful as he was to be welcomed by his new family, Albert didn’t need the fuss and told Danny not to bother. He was going home and that was that.

  With a little help from Nurse Madeline, he packed his bits and pieces into his holdall and sat waiting for Lenny on the end of the bed, thinking about how things might have changed since he’d been away. Lenny had assured him he’d been feeding both Rocky and the ducks in the park, so that was one less thing to worry about. Danny, on the other hand... Danny, with his mood swings and temper, was a worry, that much was certain.

  Albert was a lousy patient and had detested being immobile. The pain from the broken ribs he could cope with, but the plaster cast on his leg had to go. He had borrowed a knitting needle from a lady patient to scratch the itchy bits he couldn’t reach, a valuable piece of kit that he made sure he packed in his bag. He thought about going back to work at the Live and Let Live, and about managing the stairs to his flat. He had been practising up and down some stairs in the hospital and had developed a nifty sideways action using the crutch as a lever, not unlike Long John Silver and with the same gusto. It was all going to be fine.

  “You’ll be home in time for the football,” smiled Nurse Madeline, packing his final bits and pieces.

  Albert was puzzled. He had been cut off from the outside world for weeks and had no idea what the nurse was talking about. “What football?” he said.