Jonathan squeezed past Thanh in the narrow aisle between the aquariums and the rabbit hutches. She could see something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before, unease, yes, anxiety. And he smelled of sweat more than usual. He went into the office, but the door was left ajar, and from where she was standing, she could see him lay a blanket over the glass cage he had in there. She knew exactly what was in the glass cage. The one and only time she had brought some children into the office and shown them it, he had been furious and told her customers had no business being in the office, but she knew that wasn’t the reason. It was the animal. He didn’t want anyone to see it. Jonathan was a decent enough boss. She was allowed time off when she needed, and he had even given her a raise without her having asked. But to work so closely with another person — there was only the two of them — and still not know anything about that person was strange. Sometimes it seemed he liked her a little too much, and other times not at all. He was older than her, but not by so much; she figured he was around thirty, so they ought to have things in common to talk about. Yet any efforts she made to get a conversation going elicited only terse replies. But occasionally he would gaze at her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. Was he interested in her? Was that sullen manner of his bad temper, shyness, or an attempt to conceal what he felt for her? Maybe she was just imagining it, a flight of fancy you come up with when you’re bored, when the days drag out and the alternatives are few. Sometimes she thought his behaviour was like the boys back in primary school, throwing snowballs at the girls they fancied. Only that he was an adult. It was weird.
Jonathan was walking back towards her. She moved aside, standing as close to the aquarium as she could, and still his body brushed against hers.
‘Sorry, I don’t have anything,’ Jonathan said. ‘It’s too long ago.’
‘Right,’ the policeman said. ‘What was it you covered in the office?’
‘What?’
‘I think you heard what I said. May I take a look?’
Jonathan had a slender, white neck with black stubble which Thanh found herself sometimes wishing he shaved a little closer. And now she could see his Adam’s apple rise and fall in his throat. She felt almost sorry for him.
‘Sure,’ Jonathan said. ‘You can look at what you like in here.’ Again, he used that low, deep voice. ‘All you have to do is show me a search warrant.’
The policeman took a step back and tilted his head slightly to the side, as though taking a closer look at Jonathan. Reassessing him, as it were.
‘Then I’ll make a mental note of it,’ the policeman said. ‘Thank you for your help thus far.’
He turned and walked towards the door. Thanh gave him a smile but got nothing in return.
Jonathan opened the box of fish feed and began hanging the bags up behind the counter. She made her way to the toilet, located beyond the office, and when she was coming out, Jonathan was standing waiting just outside.
He was holding something in his hand and slipped in behind her without shutting the door.
Her eyes fell automatically on the glass cage. The blanket had been removed and the cage was empty.
She heard Jonathan pull the chain above the old toilet and the water flush.
She turned round and saw him standing at the little sink soaping his hands thoroughly. Then he turned on the hot-water tap. He rubbed his hands together under the jet of water, which was so hot steam rose to his face. She knew why. The parasites.
Thanh swallowed. She loved animals, all animals. Even those — yes, maybe especially those — other people thought were hideous. Many people found slugs disgusting, but she remembered the disbelieving, excited children’s faces when she had shown them the big bright pink slug and tried to convince them that no, it hadn’t been painted, it was as nature made it.
Perhaps that was the reason a sudden wave of hate swept through her. Hate for this man who did not love animals. She thought about the sweet wild fox cub someone had brought in, which he had taken payment for, hadn’t he? She had nursed and fussed over it, loved the lonely, abandoned pup. Even given it a name. Nhi, meaning small. But then one day when she came to work, he wasn’t in his cage. Or anywhere to be seen. And when she asked Jonathan, he had only answered in that gruff way of his: ‘Gone.’ And she hadn’t asked any more, because she didn’t want confirmation of what she had already understood.
Jonathan turned off the tap, came out and looked with a little surprise at Thanh who was standing in the middle of the office with her arms folded.
‘Gone?’ she asked.
‘Gone,’ he said, sitting down at the desk, which was always cluttered with piles of papers they never got through.
‘Drowned?’ she asked.
He looked at her as if she had finally asked a question that interested him.
