Jamrach's Menagerie - Carol Birch [17]
My skin crawled with weariness.
“Well, it wasn’t your fault, was it? They can’t sack you for something that wasn’t your fault, can they?”
“How do you know? You did it on purpose.”
My eyes burned. I ached all over. I hit him in the chest.
“Oy!” he cried, backing off with a hurt look in his eyes. “What’s up with you? Wasn’t my fault.”
“You locked me in!”
“I know. Only twigged when I seen you come in the gate just now. And there were the keys in my pocket.”
“You knew!”
“I didn’t. I met a couple of friends, you know what it’s like. I thought you’d finish up and go home. What you done to your head?” He reached out but I jerked away.
“I fell over,” I said. My voice caught and my eyes overflowed. “The lamp went out.”
“Baby,” he said, smiling, “don’t cry.”
My nose ran.
He had the cheek to try and sling an arm round me. I hit him again and we scuffled futilely, falling under the ramp. Cobbe barked a warning from the end of the yard.
“I hate you!” I screamed.
Tim held my wrists and I kicked out at his knees.
“Look, Jaf,” he said in an infuriating, reasonable voice, “you won’t tell Jamrach, will you?”
“I will! I’ll tell him!”
I looked around for the big German but there was no sign of him. “Fucking hate you, Tim Linver,” I said, and kicked and pulled free and ran towards the door to see if Jamrach was in the office.
“No!” Tim ran after and grabbed my shoulder. He was pleading suddenly, really scared. “Don’t tell him, Jaffy. If you tell him he’ll get rid of me.”
“Serve you right.”
But Jamrach wasn’t in yet. Only Bulter, his feet on the desk, picking his teeth with a long fingernail.
“Here, you two, out of here,” he said.
Tim dragged me out into the lobby. He had tears in his eyes. Good. We ran through the silent bird room. “It was a joke,” he said desperately. We were out in the yard again. I picked up my broom and ran at him like a jouster, chased him right up against the alligator pen.
“You’re mad!” he yelled.
I bashed him with it, hard as I could, over and over.
“Stoppit! Ow!”
“Pack it in, you two,” growled Cobbe, “he’s here, I heard the carriage.”
I dropped the broom and ran for the door. Tim ran after, grabbing my arm. “Jaffy!” His face was white. “Please,” he said, “don’t tell. I’ll give you my telescope. I promise, I’ll give you my telescope if you don’t tell him.”
And there was the front door and the voice of Mr. Jamrach cheerfully greeting Bulter.
“Please!”
I wanted that telescope. Dan Rymer’s telescope had been all around the world twice and he had given it to Tim. Dan Rymer had first seen the great Patagonian condor soaring high above the blue sierras through that telescope, Tim said. Once, once only, I had been allowed to look through it, and only for a few seconds. I saw the world anew. I saw the querulous shadow in the eye of a starling.
“Please!” said Tim.
I worked till about ten, then I fainted. Or something. Just fell over.
We’d had in three small elephants. I suppose they were very young, one of them was no taller than the big mastiff that used to guard the tannery in Bermondsey. They were not happy. Each had a chain round its foot. Side to side, side to side, trunks curling and unfurling in time, great feet lifting and listlessly kicking, turn by turn they swayed together with no space to turn about, an endless dance. So hypnotic was their movement, so steady and slow, that it got in my head and made me dizzy, and the rake fell from my hands and I fell over. Next thing I knew I was in the office, lying down upon a scratchy coat, and Mr. Jamrach was pouring water in my mouth from a jug. Bulter and Cobbe were there, and Tim’s gawky neck was sticking up, an anxious face peering over Jamrach’s shoulder.
“What’s this? What’s this?” Jamrach said. “Are you ill?”
“I’m tired,” I said, “and I haven’t had my breakfast.”
“No breakfast! Why not?”
And then it all came out that I’d been up all night in the shop and missed my shift at Spoony’s.
“Tim locked me in,” I said.
“I was going to go back but I forgot!”
I hated Tim at that moment. “He did it on purpose,” I said.
His face