“Honey, he wins this fight, you won’t ever need to waitress again. You could be a kept woman,” Earnshaw said. He grinned, oblivious to the slashing across the throat gestures Kieran and Tommy were making, telling him to quit it.
My little hellion turned to him, her hands on those cute-arse hips of hers and informed him, quite matter-of-factly, that she had no interest in being any such thing. “Besides, we don’t abandon out friends. Mike and Rhona have been good to me. I’ll keep waitressing as long as it takes them to find a replacement, even if we don’t need the money.”
“Em never thought too seriously about what I could potentially earn in the future. We never had anything, and we were doing just fine. If Earnshaw made a little money for us from sponsorship, so much the better. But it wouldn’t change who we were, and I fucking loved that.
“What do we do about Frank?” Tommy asked. “He ain’t just gonna disappear ’cause Con gave him a scare.”
“Keep your eyes peeled,” Danny replied. “If you see him, take a picture on your phone, or make a note of the date and time. I called the copper this morning who helped us find Em. He’s one of the good guys and would love to nail Frank to the wall. Don’t think he’s a big lover of dirty coppers either. So as of now, he’s putting together a harassment case so we can try and get a restraining order. Everything goes to him.” We nodded in agreement, the boys too busy stuffing their faces to say much.
“Well if that’s decided, then you’d best get your lazy arses out into that gym and do some work. Con, you’re a feckin’ long way from where you need to be, and we’ve practically no time to get you there. So what are you waiting for, feckin’ Christmas? Get to work,” Danny barked. Leaning around him to give Em a quick kiss before he slapped me, I legged it to get changed. I was hungry like I’d never been hungry before, and today was a brand-new day.
Chapter 22
I was doing one-handed press-ups when the iconic trumpets sounded from the speakers of the gym. Some of the other kids had stopped at the music, but hearing what it was, they laughed and carried on training, only harder. I smiled at them. You couldn’t help it. “Flying High Now” was fucking electric because it made you root for the underdog. Made you think you could do just about anything if you worked hard and were focused enough.
Danny rolled his eyes and took a deep drag on his cigarette before barking out my numbers, “Seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty.” When I got to one hundred, I switched arms. Danny was working me harder than I’d ever been worked in my entire life, and I loved it. My body loved it. My days ended with a sparring session with Earnshaw. Fucker was getting quicker, but honestly? He couldn’t touch me now. I was the wind. Faster than anyone would believe in a guy my size. I was Ali, I was Tyson, I was Foreman. I was all of the greats, and it made me invincible. There was no one who stood a chance in the ring with me, not even Kieran who was the best sparring partner I’d ever had.
Danny had taken training back to basics, and it was working. Balaam Leisure Center got wind of the fight, and they let me use the pool for an hour every day between their swimming classes. The only condition was that the local kids, although they weren’t allowed in the pool with me, got to watch me do laps. I fucking loved that part of my day. I might have been Irish but I was local and doing something to better myself, and that made me their hero. Those kids worked me harder than Danny ever did. Eventually he gave up giving me orders and let the kids do it. They’d shout at me to go faster for just one more lap. Afterward I ran back to the gym through Canning Town Recreation Ground, and they almost always followed me. A few on the first day and more and more with each day that passed. The older ones ran but the younger ones came on their bikes. Rico Temple couldn’t possibly have anything near the fuckin’ buzz those kids gave me. And people got behind it. The shopkeepers and street cleaners just opening up and doing their jobs knew me from my morning run. Commuters using the railway bridge began to say hello to me on their way home from work. Even the kids from the pool attracted other kids and they hung around outside the gym, often watching me run. Canning Town was a community, and I was their adopted son.