“Another time maybe,” said Will, returning Danny’s rogue appendage. “I have to go.”
Danny’s pen hovered over the pad as he desperately tried to think of something to say that might keep the conversation alive, but Will was already halfway across the park by the time he’d finished writing. He looked at the paper and sighed.
Wait, read the note.
CHAPTER 18
“Hi, Will!” shouted Danny as he closed the front door and paced around the apartment excitedly. “Will? You home, mate?”
He’d left the park early that day, unable to focus on anything other than his unexpected encounter with his son. Even now, several hours later, the whole thing still seemed unreal, as if he’d just been magically cured of some terminal affliction.
He found Will playing with his iPad on his bed.
“There you are!” said Danny. He tried to look casual by leaning on the doorframe until he remembered that he never leaned on doorframes and was probably just making himself look suspicious. He stopped leaning. “How was your day?”
Will shrugged and returned to his iPad.
Danny continued undeterred. “Do anything interesting?”
Will shook his head without looking up.
“School okay?”
Will nodded, his eyes still fixed on the screen.
Danny changed tack. “What do you want for dinner?”
His son shrugged.
“We can have anything you want. Pizza. Burgers. KFC. Just say the word and it’s yours.”
Will put his iPad down and looked at Danny then.
“Anything at all,” prompted Danny. He looked like a dog waiting for a tennis ball. “Just say the word.”
Will’s eyes narrowed. His mouth opened a fraction and for a brief moment he looked like he was about to say something. Danny leaned forward, keen to catch every syllable, but the only sound that emerged from Will was that which accompanied his powerful sneeze. He wiped his nose, shrugged, and returned to his iPad.
Danny slowly backed out of the room and closed the door behind him, quietly reprimanding himself for believing that things would be so simple. Still, he couldn’t help but smile as he rummaged through the freezer that was long overdue for a defrosting and chipped a lasagna from the arctic wasteland. He was still smiling the next morning when he made his way to the park.
* * *
Danny danced for the biggest crowd he’d ever danced for that day. There must have been thirty people at least. None of them had gathered because his moves were slick, because they weren’t. Nor had they gathered because his timing was impeccable, because it wasn’t. What drew them over was the fact that even though Danny didn’t have much to give, he still gave everything he had. He performed with an energy he didn’t know he possessed, he moved with a confidence that far surpassed his abilities, and he danced without the ever-present fear that he looked completely ridiculous, which he did, but Danny didn’t care, not that day. He didn’t see the crowd that encircled him. Nor did he see El Magnifico glowering at him from across the park. He saw nothing, he heard nothing, and he felt nothing except for the music. When the track ended and Danny took a bow, it wasn’t the sound of coins landing in his lunchbox that made him smile. It was the sound of applause—real applause—that warmed his spirit. He didn’t even notice the money until the crowd had dispersed, and when he did he was shocked to find that his one performance of barely five minutes had brought him more than ten pounds in change.
By the end of the day he’d managed to make more than sixty pounds plus a handful of pennies, and by the end of the week he’d taken close to half of what he used to take home from the building site, and had a lot more fun doing it. For the first time since he’d become a dancing panda bear, Danny felt like what he was doing might not be so crazy after all.
* * *
“Blimey,” said Tim when he saw Danny counting his money. “Maybe I need to start dressing Milton up as an animal.”
“Milton is an animal,” said Danny, nodding at Milton.
“People don’t like cats anymore. They like pandas. You’re the park’s main attraction these days. Look at you, you’re rolling in it!”
“Hardly. I still can’t afford to pay my rent.”
“Then maybe this might help.” Tim pulled a flyer from his top pocket and handed it to Danny.
“What’s this?” he said, staring at the piece of paper pinched between his furry fingers.
“Battle of the Street Performers. Four weeks’ time. Hyde Park. First prize—”
“Ten grand!” yelled Danny. “Holy shit.”
“That should help with the rent.”
“Only if I win.”
“So, make sure you win.”
“Hold on,” said Danny, checking his phone. “What time is it?”
“Close to four.”
“Bollocks,” said Danny, slapping the flyer with the back of his hand. “I’m too late. Registration closed at three.”
“I know,” said Tim. “Which is why I signed you up this morning.”
“You’re serious?” said Danny. Tim nodded. “I want to hug you right now. Can I hug you right now?”
“I wouldn’t. Milton’s got a bit of a jealous streak. He’s basically the reason I don’t have a girlfriend. Well, that and my face.”
“Got it. Maybe just a handshake, then.”
“Probably best,” said Tim. The two men shook hands.
“Why are you helping me, by the way?” said Danny. “Won’t we be competing against each other?”
“Yeah, we will, but more importantly, we’ll be competing against El Magnifico, and the more competition he has, the less chance he has of walking away with the trophy. I don’t mind losing to you. I just don’t want to lose to David Tosserfield over there.”
Danny stared at the flyer, sure that this was the closest he was ever going to get to the prize money. His odds of winning were slimmer than the rolled-up cigarette tucked behind Tim’s ear, but he knew he had to try. He also knew that if he wanted to stand any chance of succeeding, he was going to need all the help he could get.
* * *
Music throbbed and strobe lights flickered as disenchanted women danced for loud men with slick hair and soggy collars. Danny edged his way through the crowd towards the bar where Vesuvius was busy serving customers. He looked at Danny and winked.
“Come for that kiss, have we?”
“I’m saving that for a rainy day,” said Danny.
“That’s not rain?” said Vesuvius, nodding at the wet patches all over Danny’s shirt.
Danny looked down and grimaced when he saw he was covered in other people’s sweat. “I wish,” he said, grabbing a napkin from the dispenser and gently dabbing himself. “Is Krystal around?”
“Why do you think this place is so busy?”
The collective murmur of the crowd grew louder as the music began to fade out.
“You’re just in time,” he said, pointing over Danny’s shoulder as the lights dimmed and the room went dark.