Jamrach's Menagerie - Carol Birch [119]
“Come into the office.”
There was a new boy in an alcove all of his own, scrabbling about with a pile of paperwork and whistling cheerfully. Not as messy as the old days when Bulter lolled about behind the desk. Charlie the toucan was still going strong, but the old parrot Flo had fallen prey to tuberculosis and departed this life. Mr. Jamrach sent the boy away and poured coffee from a pot on the stove. It was cold outside and cosy in here, smoky as ever. Charlie sat in my arms and nibbled my ear.
I asked how things were going.
“Not bad, not bad,” he said, putting back his head and blowing smoke towards the ceiling. Then he told me he’d got his son Albert in with him now and was training him up to run the business. Only Albert was at home today with a bad cold.
“Shame,” I said.
Mr. Jamrach offered me a pipe, relit his own and sat back.
It was an awkward meeting. For a while we sat and smoked, saying nothing.
“Coffee all right?” he asked. “Not too strong?”
“No, just right.”
“That’s the ticket.”
“You know, Jaf,” he said, leaning forward, his sad old eyes blinking, “I can’t begin to find the words—”
“It’s all right, Mr. Jamrach.” I disengaged Charlie’s claws from my jacket. “I know it’s awkward.”
“No, I mean to say …” He gestured with one hand. “I mean to say … what you suffered is beyond my imagination. I want you to know that …”
“I know,” I said.
“… anything at all that I can do …”
“Of course.”
“You know Dan’s retired?”
“I know. He told me in Valparaiso.”
Such a curious feeling. As if Tim was standing in the room with us.
“You’re still very young, Jaf,” he said. “You mustn’t let this blight your life.”
“I know.”
“There’s not a spot of blame on you.”
“I know.”
“People understand.”
“I know.”
I could have sworn I’d see him if I looked around.
“Of course, no one expects you to do anything yet, but you know there’s always a job here if you …”
“I know.”
But he and I both knew there was no hurry. Mr. Fledge had proved generous to me and Dan. Anyway, I don’t know where he thought he could fit me in. Clearly I could no longer be a yard boy, and a desk job would never do for me. I had no idea what I was going to do, to tell the truth. Still had a swirling sea in my head.
“I really don’t suppose I’ll come back here,” I said.
“No.” He nodded thoughtfully. “I can see why.”
“Anyway,” I said, looking around, “it’s nice to see the old place again.”
“Not so much changed, eh?”
“A little.”
“It’s a bit neater the way it’s laid out now. That’s Albert,” he said.
We sat for a while longer, then he said, “Well, when you decide what it is you want to do with yourself, come to me, won’t you, Jaf? Because whatever it is, you know that Mr. Fledge will prove generous in the light of all that’s happened.”
“Thank you very much, sir,” I said.
I had to go. We stood up. Charlie flew onto Jamrach’s shoulder. The lobby was full of finches waiting to be moved into one of the bird rooms. Newly come from the docks, the birds hunched neckless in their tiny boxes, sullen with the change. A wave of nausea weakened me, but I don’t think he saw it.
“You take care of yourself, Jaf,” he said, “and come straight to me, you know, if there’s anything you want. Promise?”
Suffocation was on the air. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
“Sure,” I said.
He shook me firmly by the hand, looking at me hard with pained, watery eyes.
“You want to get yourself an aviary, Mr. Jamrach,” I said.
He smiled, looking sadly at the birds for a long moment. “It’s not ideal,” he agreed, “but, there you are, there isn’t the space.”
He opened the door. Charlie had slid down onto his chest and nestled there like a newborn deer, casting up his round, ridiculous eye.
Out in the street I stood for a while breathing the ripe air and considering. Had to go see Tim’s ma. I walked along slowly, dreading, thinking I’d just go home instead. Have to get it over with, though. Ishbel might be there. The thought of it made me hollow. Tell me, just what do you say? Look at it this way, Mrs. Linver. At least I came back.
Come on, let’s get it over with.
Not yet.