Danny looked at Krystal. “I think you can answer that one,” he said.
“He poured it over his head.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s an idiot.”
“Krystal tried to mace me,” said Danny.
“Did you really?” said Will with more enthusiasm than Danny was comfortable with.
“Sort of,” she said.
“Cool,” said Will, digging into his arid cereal. “He probably deserved it.”
“I like him,” said Krystal, nodding at Will.
Danny rolled his eyes.
“How do you know my dad anyway?” said Will through a mouthful of dry Coco Pops.
“God hates me, so he sent Danny as punishment,” said Krystal.
“Because you’re a stripper?”
“Who said I was a stripper?”
Will pointed at Danny. Danny squirmed.
“The panda told him you were a stripper, actually,” he said. “Blame him.”
“Well, the panda’s talking out of his furry arsehole, because I’m not a stripper. I’m a pole dancer, Will, and there’s a massive difference. See, anybody can be a stripper, it’s easy. All you gotta do is take off your clothes and wiggle your bits in somebody’s face—”
“Yeah, see, I don’t think Will needs to know about—”
“—But pole dancing? That’s a different thing altogether. Pole dancing is a skill. It takes a lot of hard work and practice. Pole dancers aren’t just dancers. They’re artists, mate. Us lot, we’re like the Leonardo da Vincis of the entertainment industry, but we’re better, because even he couldn’t do what we do.”
“Why?” said Will.
Krystal shrugged. “Not flexible enough.”
“And on that note, we should probably get going,” said Danny, keen to bring the conversation to an end.
“Going where?” said Krystal.
“The club. To practice.”
“No chance, mate. I’ve got an appointment for a Hollywood at noon.”
“What’s a Hollywood?” said Will.
“It’s like a Brazilian, but more painful.”
“What’s a Brazilian?”
“Ask your dad,” said Krystal.
“I’m not talking to him.”
“Precisely.”
“Can’t it wait?” said Danny. “The competition’s in four days!”
“Yeah, which is why I was ready at eight o’clock this morning while you were still tucked up in your jimjams.”
“I told you already, I was looking for Will!”
“And my regulars’ll be looking for new places to stuff their money if I miss this appointment, and appointments with Fernando are not easy to come by. He’s amazing. He’s like the Mr. Miyagi of the waxing world.”
“You were looking for me?” said Will, his stonewall crumbling beneath the weight of his curiosity. This time it was Danny’s turn to remain silent.
“Are you going to tell him or am I?” said Krystal.
“Tell me what?” said Will.
Danny slumped in his chair like a boxer whose trainer had just thrown in the towel. “I thought you’d run away,” he said. “I came home yesterday and you weren’t here and, well, I thought you’d taken off because you were still angry with me about the whole panda thing.”
“He called the police and everything,” said Krystal.
“Is that true?” said Will.
Danny nodded. “I didn’t know what else to do. Losing your mum was bad enough, but the thought of losing you…” His hand trembled as he absently circled a rogue Coco Pop with his finger. Krystal put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re my best friend, Will. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, mate.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me about the panda thing?”
“Because I was embarrassed, that’s why. I thought you’d be ashamed of me. I’d be ashamed of me. Who wants a dancing panda for a dad?”
“Me!” said Will, prodding himself in the chest. “I’m not angry about you being a panda, Dad. I’m angry that you didn’t tell me about it. I’m proud of what you’re doing. I saw you in the park, you’re awesome. I never knew you could dance like that.”
“He couldn’t until he met me,” said Krystal. “Just saying.”
“Thanks, mate,” said Danny. “Let’s hope the judges feel the same.”
“Judges?” said Will.
“Battle of the Street Performers,” said Krystal. “It’s like X Factor for homeless people.”
“But Dad’s not homeless,” said Will.
Danny sighed. “Not yet, I’m not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that we really need to win this competition,” said Danny, wanting to be honest without being too honest.
Will looked at Danny and Krystal as he took a moment to process this.
“So win,” he said matter-of-factly, as if winning required nothing more than a verbal commitment to do so. He closed the matter with a mouthful of cereal.
“I can’t. Not without Krystal.”
“Nice try,” she said without looking up from her phone, “but I am officially immune to emotional blackmail. Five years on a pole will do that to a girl.”
Will fixed Krystal with the same pleading eyes that he used to give Liz when the ice cream truck was approaching.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. Will didn’t blink. “Danny, will you please tell your son to stop looking at me like that?”
“He’ll stop if you agree to help us.”
“I told you already, I’ve got plans.”
“Please,” said Will.
“No.”
“Pretty please.”
“No!”
“Extra please.”
“Extra no.”
“I’ll give you a hundred pounds,” said Will.
Krystal burst out laughing, her air of indifference suddenly obliterated.
“I thought you said he takes after his mum?” she said. Danny held his hands up like somebody caught near a shop display that had just collapsed. “You really are a chip off the old block,” she said to Will.
“Thanks,” he said.
“It wasn’t a compliment,” said Krystal.
“Please,” said Danny. “Will you help us?”
Krystal stared at Danny, and then at Will, and then at the space between them both.
She sighed. “What did I ever do to get lumbered with you two?”
“Is that a yes?” said Danny.
“It’s a hurry the f—” Krystal glanced at Will. “—hurry the frig up before I change my frigging mind,” she said. Danny and Will shared a secret low-five beneath the table as she stood and adjusted her miniskirt. “Might want to change out of that shirt first though,” she said, pointing at Danny. “And you might want to get out of those pj’s,” she said, this time looking at Will.
“Where am I going?” said Will.