Everyone applauded as Tim and Milton appeared on the video screen. Tim waved and smiled for the camera.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered as Milton glowered at him from his shoulder. “You chose the song, not me.”
The host looked at the note and adjusted his glasses.
“Coming in at second place we have… drumroll, please… Pandamonium!”
Will sighed. Mo swore quietly. Krystal swore loudly, so loudly that anybody near her shuffled back a few inches, but Danny said nothing as he stared at the stage, his eyes still wide with anticipation as if he hadn’t heard the host and was still eagerly awaiting the announcement.
“You okay?” said Ivan.
Danny didn’t respond, paralyzed by disbelief.
“Well done to the dancing pandas. You might not have won the grand prize, but you have won the next best thing, which is four free tickets to my upcoming stand-up tour!”
A number of the other contestants suddenly looked relieved that they hadn’t finished second.
“And so it is my great honor to reveal that the winner of this year’s Battle of the Street Performers is… and it comes as no surprise because, let’s be honest, the performance was pretty mind-blowing…”
El Magnifico grinned as he readied himself for victory.
“Let’s hear it for Jack and Daniels, everybody!”
The magician’s smile slipped from his face as the old man and his Jack Russell took to the stage to collect their prize.
“No,” he muttered. “That’s not right. I won. Me.”
“This is fucking bullshit!” said Krystal. “Pardon my French, Will.”
“This is fucking bullshit,” said Will. “Pardon my French, Dad.”
Danny remained silent, unable to find even the right facial expression to convey his emotions, never mind the right words.
“Congratulations,” said the host, handing Daniels an absurdly oversize check. Before the old man could grab it, however, El Magnifico burst from the crowd and wrested the prize from the host.
“I won!” he yelled, his eyes wild and his mouth foaming slightly. “Me! Not you! I set something on fire with my mind! WITH MY FUCKING MIND!”
One of the guards rushed onto the stage and took out El Magnifico with a crunching tackle, while another guard prised the check from his fingers. Even Jack got involved, clamping his jaws around El Magnifico’s robe and refusing to let go.
“Get off me!” yelled El Magnifico. “Get off before I burn this fucking place to the ground! I have powers. Didn’t you see? I HAVE POWERS!”
The guards dragged the magician away to the sounds of cheers and laughter. More laughter followed when Jack came trotting back with a piece of El Magnifico’s robe in his mouth.
“I believe this is yours,” said the host, picking up the slightly crumpled check and handing it to Daniels. “Give it up for this year’s winners, ladies and gentlemen!”
A well-groomed young man appeared onstage and presented the performers with a trophy, which Daniels held above his head to the deafening chants of “Encore!”
“It sounds like people want to hear you sing again, Jack,” said the host, bending down to address the terrier. “What do you reckon?”
Jack barked once, and everybody cheered.
“I think that’s a yes!” said the host. “Take it away, guys!”
“Let’s get out of here,” said Danny.
CHAPTER 34
Ivan set four drinks on the table, the glasses like thimbles in his meaty palms.
“Cheers!” he said, raising his pint in toast.
Krystal took her triple gin and tonic. Will took Danny’s pint. Danny took the glass of Coke and swapped it with Will. Everybody clinked glasses, but only Ivan’s clink had any enthusiasm behind it.
“Sorry, Ivan, but what are we celebrating exactly?” said Danny.
“Life!” said Ivan, sweeping his hand around the Cross-Eyed Goat, as if the dingy pub and its miscreant clientele were the perfect reasons to celebrate existence.
“Yeah, well, life doesn’t seem like something worth celebrating right now,” said Danny.
“Fine. You want good news? I give you good news. Remember Viktor? Asshole from building site? He go back to Russia after somebody put his head in toilet.”
“Why did they do that?” said Will.
“Must have messed with the wrong people,” said Krystal, exchanging a smile with Danny.
“See,” said Ivan. “You smile. Life is good.”
“Not when Reg finds me,” said Danny. He sighed and took a contemplative sip of his pint. “I just don’t get it. I really thought we’d won tonight.”
“We did win,” said Krystal. “I mean, we didn’t ‘win’ win, obviously, but we were miles better than anybody else. The crowd loved you.”
“The crowd loved you,” corrected Danny.
“The crowd loved us,” she said.
“Then how did we get beaten by a singing dog?” said Danny.
Will shrugged. “At least we didn’t get beaten by El Magnifico,” he said.
“Exactly,” said Krystal. “That’s something to celebrate, right?”
“That’s true,” said Danny, grinning at the thought of a rabid El Magnifico getting slammed to the floor by security staff.
“You know that guy was Krystal’s ex-boyfriend, right?” said Will to Ivan. Ivan looked at Krystal. Krystal looked at Will. Will looked at Danny. Danny laughed nervously. He didn’t hear Reg walk through the door behind him.
“Malooley!” he yelled. Everybody flinched, apart from Ivan.
“Great,” said Danny, not even bothering to turn around as Reg made his way towards him. “I can’t even enjoy losing in peace.”
“Hello, Daniel,” said Reg. Mr. Dent loitered by the door, presumably in case any of them felt like running.
“Hello, Reg.”
“What’s the occasion?” he said, eyeballing the table, especially Krystal.
“We’re having a wake,” said Danny.
“Oh yeah? For who?” said Reg.
Danny downed his pint while he still could. “For me,” he said.
“I assume that means you ain’t got my money.”
“You assume correctly, Reg,” said Danny. “I do not have your money.” He sounded more weary than worried, like a death row inmate who was tired of waiting and just wanted to get the show on the road.
“Charlie!” yelled Reg. “Bolt that door, would you.”
The sound of scraping chairs and frantic footsteps filled the room as everybody rushed to get out before Charlie locked them in. He bolted the top and bottom of the door and barred the middle with a plank. Then, turning off the security cameras with a casualness that suggested this wasn’t the first time he’d done this, he grabbed a bag of Scampi Fries and disappeared upstairs.
“Well, don’t just fucking stand there, Dent,” said Reg. “Get a fucking move on. EastEnders is on soon.”
Lurching into motion like a ten-ton truck, Mr. Dent lumbered across the room as Danny got to his feet, not because he had any kind of plan but because standing seemed more dignified than meeting his fate while quaking on a barstool. He felt Ivan’s hand on his shoulder and guessed it to be an act of solace until the Ukrainian shoved him back into his seat before leaping up with surprising speed and striding towards Mr. Dent. The two men lunged the moment they were close enough, clamping their giant arms around each other and refusing to let go. The longer they stood there, the more it became apparent that the men weren’t grappling but hugging, holding one another in a firm embrace that would have crushed most humans to a pulp.
Everybody looked confused. Especially Reg. They were even more perplexed when Mr. Dent started speaking. In Ukrainian. The two of them chatted like long-lost friends as Ivan led Dent towards Danny, who instinctively shuffled back a few steps to keep himself out of denting distance.
“Danny, I like you to meet Dmitri,” said Ivan, roughly patting Mr. Dent on the back.
“Of course! He is my brother’s boy!”
“Dent’s your nephew?”
“Yes. Nephew. Last time I see him, he is this big. Like grasshopper.” Ivan indicated a height that was still taller than most tall men.
“Yeah, well, this ‘grasshopper’ almost broke my legs a week ago.”
Ivan frowned at Mr. Dent while Reg looked on in disbelief.
“What is this! A family fucking reunion? Stop fucking about, Dent!”
Mr. Dent buried his hands in his pockets and stared at his shoes like a naughty schoolboy while Ivan yelled at him in Ukrainian.
“Tell him you’re sorry,” he said, nodding at Danny. Mr. Dent mumbled something, and Ivan slapped him around the head. “In English!”
“Sorry,” said Mr. Dent.
“Is okay?” said Ivan.
“I guess,” Danny said.
“Shake,” said Ivan, grabbing their hands and forcing their palms together like a teacher resolving a playground scuffle.
“Sweet fucking baby Jesus, would you stop talking and start breaking stuff already!” said Reg.
Ivan said something to Mr. Dent, who nodded and looked at Reg.
“What the fuck are you up to now!” said Reg as Mr. Dent lumbered towards him. “You’re going the wrong way, you stupid sack of—”
Dent grabbed him by the throat before he could finish his sentence.
Ivan looked at Danny. “What you want to break first?” he said. Reg’s crutches clattered to the floor as he feebly grappled with the hand around his windpipe. “Arms? I think arms.”
“Hold up!” croaked Reg, his face turning redder than a boxer’s urine sample. “Let’s talk about this!”
“Or maybe his legs again,” said Ivan. “What do you think?”
“Wait!” said Reg. “Danny! Forget about what you owe! We’re square! And I’ll reduce your rent by… twenty percent!”
“You mean the twenty percent you already raised it by?” said Danny.
Ivan nodded at Dent, who squeezed a little tighter.
“Fifty!” squeaked Reg. “Fifty percent!”
“That’s very reasonable, Reg, but you know what? I think we’re going to move.” Danny looked at Will. “If that’s okay with you?” Will nodded.
“Can we do the fingers?” said Ivan, determined not to leave without breaking something. “Just the fingers.”
“Let him go,” said Danny.
“You sure?” said Ivan. Danny nodded. Ivan shrugged and looked at Dent. He said something in Ukrainian and gestured towards the door.
Still clutching Reg’s throat, Mr. Dent unbolted the door with his free hand.
“Don’t forget those,” said Danny, pointing to Reg’s crutches. Mr. Dent scooped them up and carried them out along with their semiconscious owner.
“Thanks, Ivan,” said Danny as they both sat down. “I think you just saved my life.”
“No problem,” said Ivan. “Now we are even.”
Danny frowned as if he wasn’t quite sure what he’d just heard. “Even for what?” he said, a smile slowly appearing on his face.
“What?” said Ivan, suddenly preoccupied with trying to remove an invisible stain from the table with his fingernail.
“You just said, ‘Now we’re even.’ ”
“When?”
“Just now!”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did,” said Danny.
“You spend too much time inside costume,” said Ivan. “Is bad for hearing.” He tapped his ears for emphasis.
“Well, anyway, thanks,” Danny said.
Ivan was dismissive now. “I just wish I knew Dmitri he worked for your landlord before, so you don’t have to make such idiot of yourself.”
Danny looked at Krystal and Will, who were busy strangling each other while playfully reenacting Mr. Dent’s chokehold on Reg. He watched them talking and laughing and winked when Will caught his eye across the table.
“Actually, I think everything worked out pretty well in the end.” He held up his glass. “Cheers.”
“To dancing rats!” said Ivan.
“We’re pandas!” said Will.
“Yeah!” said Krystal. “We’re pandas!”
“To the pandas!” said Danny.
“Whatever,” said Ivan, raising his glass. “Cheers!”
EPILOGUE
The snow was barely half an inch thick, just enough to wreak absolute havoc on every level across the entire Southeast. Flights were grounded or redirected, trains were canceled or delayed, tea bags and toilet paper were flying off the shelves as people stockpiled for the next ice age, and everybody was asking the same question they always asked whenever the weather did precisely what it was supposed to do in England in December.
“Why can’t we be more like Sweden?” said the old man opposite Danny as he ran his hand through the condensation and stared at the traffic from the bus window. “You don’t see the Swedes getting their underpants in a tangle every time it snows.”
“What are you talking about underpants for?” said his wife, who sat beside him.
“I’m not talking about underpants, Edna. I’m talking about the bloody state of this country.”
“Well, it’s hardly the Swedes’ fault, is it?”
“I’m not blaming the Swedes!”
The old man looked at Danny and shook his head. Danny smiled.
“Is this about Oliver?” said the man’s wife.
“What?”
“Sarah’s husband.”
“I know who Oliver is. Why are we talking about Oliver?”
“You never did like him much.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“He’s Swedish.”
“He’s from Burnley!”
“Not with a name like Gustavsson, he’s not. You never did like our Sarah becoming a Gustavsson.”
“I’m not talking about Oliver!”
“Then what are you talking about?”
The man was about to reply when the bus slowed down and his wife got up and made for the door. He looked at Danny, noted his wedding ring, and gave him a weary smile.
“You’ve got all of this to look forward to,” he said as he stood and followed his wife off the bus. Danny forced a smile and looked down at his ring. He plucked a strand of cotton from it and watched it float to the floor.
Will gave him a gentle nudge in the ribs. “It’s okay,” he said. “You can always rely on me to make your life difficult.”
Danny nudged him back.
“Bring it on,” he said.
* * *
Despite the bitter cold, the cemetery was busier than usual. Christmas was just around the corner and many of the graves had been adorned with candles, wreaths, and festive red ribbons.
Danny paused beside Liz’s headstone and gently wiped the frost from her name.
“There you are,” he said. “Hello, beautiful.”
Will shuffled up behind him.
“She would have loved all this, wouldn’t she?” said Danny as he looked around at the snow. Will nodded but said nothing.
They both stood in silence beneath the dull white sky and stared at the untouched snow that lay across her grave like a blanket.
“You want to say something to your mum?” said Danny. “Wish her Merry Christmas or something?”
Will thought about this for a moment.
“Dad’s a stripper,” he said. An old lady tending to a nearby grave looked up and scowled at Danny.
“Dad is not a stripper,” he said, loud enough for their neighbor to hear.
“He is,” whispered Will to his mum.
“Don’t listen to him, Liz,” said Danny. “And don’t encourage him either. I know what you’re like. I’m not a stripper. I’m a stage performer.”
“A stage performer who takes his clothes off.”
“A stage performer who makes enough money for us to live in that
nice new flat with that nice new bedroom of yours.”
“You’d really like it, Mum,” said Will. “It’s got loads of space to practice.”
“We’ve been working on a new panda routine for the park. Will’s been dancing with me on the weekends.”
“I have a proper costume now.”
“You should see him, Liz, the crowds love him. Especially the girls.”
“Whatever,” said Will, his cold cheeks turning another shade redder. “Can we show Mum the new routine?”
“What, here?” said Danny, looking around. Will nodded excitedly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because dancing in a graveyard is just… it’s not an okay thing to do.”
“Mum wouldn’t mind.”
“Yeah, well, other people might,” said Danny, glancing over at the old lady, who was still eyeing him suspiciously. “Save it for Gran and Granddad.”
“They’re coming to visit next week,” said Will, filling Liz in on the news.
“Your dad called me out of the blue and asked if we could do Christmas together,” said Danny. “I know, I couldn’t believe it either.”
“They talked for ages. They apologized and everything.”
“He apologized. And we didn’t talk for ages. We talked for a few minutes.”
“You still talked, though.”
“Yeah,” said Danny. He smiled. “We talked. Speaking of which, tell your mum what Mr. Coleman said about you at parents’ evening last week?”
“He said that I’m the nicest, most polite, and most respectful student he’s ever had.”
“Not that bit. The other bit.”
“He said I talk too much in class.”
“You hear that, Liz? He talks too much in class! How great is that?”
“I don’t think he meant it as a compliment,” said Will as Danny proudly ruffled his hair.
“He’s also made a new friend, haven’t you, mate? What’s his name? Matt?”
“Mark Robson,” said Will. “He’s the toughest kid in school.”
“Will promised to introduce him to Krystal, so now Mark protects him with his life.”
“And Mo. A kid made a joke about his hearing aids the other day, so Mark wedgied him so badly that he had to go to the nurse’s office.”
Bear Necessity Page 26
