by Ruby Loren
He held out the box of chocolates. “I think you deserve this. I thought your ideas were great by the way.”
I looked down at the still half-full tub and thought about declining, claiming that I hadn’t been doing it for the reward.
Who was I kidding?
“Thanks,” I said, graciously accepting the gift.
“Did I notice some tension there between you and Claudia?” He asked, slightly raising a dark eyebrow,
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know what that was about. I didn’t think we had a problem with each other until now. I’m not the one…” I trailed off. I’d been about to say ‘I’m not the one practically dating Auryn’ but that was hardly information it was wise to throw into conversation with the head of an external events management company. It would make me just as petty as some of the objections Claudia had thrown up against my suggestions.
I looked up just in time to see the dark-haired woman herself breeze past, wearing a luxuriously padded, and yet somehow slimming (how?!) coat.
“Are we still okay for our eleven o’clock tomorrow?” she said to Barnaby, managing to pretend I wasn’t there.
He nodded. “Yes, that’s still fine.” Something about the way he said it let me know they’d probably only organised it this afternoon, and he was bemused as to why she was checking.
I thought I knew why.
“I know it’s the funeral tomorrow, but seeing as neither of us ever had a chance to get to know Ms Leary, we thought it would be best if we stayed away. It seemed like a good opportunity to go over a few forecasts and progress reports together,” he explained.
I nodded, secretly sure that Claudia wanted to do more than just discuss finance with Barnaby. It would appear that Claudia had dropped the idea of Auryn and had moved on to an older, but no less attractive, potential candidate for her heart.
Even more amusingly, she’d mistaken my passion for free chocolate to be passion for her target. I tried not to grin as I finished up my conversation with Barnaby. It was something that could only happen to me!
“That went well, didn’t it?” Auryn said, coming up to me right as I was about to step outside of the door. I looked out into the cold dark afternoon and reflected that the sky was a funny colour.
“It was great! Everything seems to be running pretty perfectly to plan. Is that right?” I said.
He nodded, happily. “No fatal accidents yet!” he said and then looked mortified.
“I know you didn’t mean…” I told him, but he still blushed.
“Funeral tomorrow. I’ve offered to say a few words. You wouldn't mind looking over them for me, would you?” he asked, suddenly reminding me of his relatively young years with the hopeful look he gave me.
He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out from his pocket and handed it to me. I read it and gave him a couple of pointers for improvement. I was pleased to see it was a piece that felt like it had been written from the heart of all of us at Avery Zoo. I hoped her parents would be pleased.
“You’re going to print off a new copy of your speech when you’ve made the changes, aren’t you?” I said.
Auryn didn’t meet my eyes. “Yes, that was absolutely what I was going to do,” he lied.
I shot him a knowing smile.
“Hey, look! Snow!” Auryn suddenly said. I turned to look out of the door and found that he was right. Thick clumps of white stuff were falling from the sky. As we watched, it fell to the ground and stayed there.
“It’s settling,” Auryn observed. “I hope it doesn’t cause a problem for the funeral tomorrow.”
“It will probably be okay. Everyone’s fairly local, so I'm sure people could walk if they needed to. The real problem will be getting Jenna’s parents there safely.
I was getting ahead of myself. We southerners always had a tendency to panic when the snow started to fall. By the time the day dawned tomorrow, there’d probably be barely a centimetre on the ground. South East England always missed out on any significant white stuff, but it was probably for the best. Even a centimetre of snow would mean that trains were cancelled and work ground to a halt. Then there’d be the usual talk of economic disasters and so on and so forth. All for a measly bit of snow.
I was still lost in my thoughts when one of the new keepers, Ashley, ran up to the doors of the offices. She’d been in the meeting with the majority of staff, but had got out sooner than I had.
“Someone’s managed to let the penguins out of their enclosure. I don’t know how they managed it, but they’re running everywhere,” she said, looking stricken. “I’m sorry,” she added in the direction of the zoo owner, clearly wondering if she’d be fired on the spot,
Auryn looked rather nonplussed.
“Madi…” he began.
“Already on it,” I said, taking charge of the situation. “We’re going to need nets,” I told her. “There are CCTV cameras near to the penguin enclosure. We should ask one of the caretaking team to have a look at the footage from earlier. Perhaps we’ll be able to catch the culprit in the act.”
In the end, there wasn’t actually any need to check the CCTV footage. The person responsible was still at the scene of the crime, loudly proclaiming her responsibility for the act.
I looked at the small double-panel of wire fencing at the side of the enclosure. She’d had to cut through both fences to gain access to the enclosure. The smell of fish rose from the plastic bag she held, and I thought I had a clue or two as to how she’d persuaded the small fish eaters to break free from their enclosure and go for a walk in the snow.
“These should be mine! I am legally allowed to do whatever I like, and I’ve decided they should be free,” she raved.
I ignored her and instead focused on the penguins. How many were there supposed to be? I thought the answer was ten. At the moment, I could see three, waddling around in the snow. A quick glance back into the enclosure revealed it to be empty.
Seven had vanished and the snow was only getting heavier.
I silently kissed goodbye to an evening of drawing comics. At least that wasn’t as stressful a thought as it had been a month ago. I’d recently completed all of the crowdfunding orders and had shipped them to all of my customers. It had been a far bigger moment than I’d anticipated when I’d received the proofs of my comic books and had first seen my work in book form. Everyone had been thrilled with their copies, and I’d already been asked when I’d be running the next campaign, as this book had only covered the first six months, or so, of the comic.
I’d had to be vague in my response. The publishers knocking at my door made the situation a lot more complex than it had once been. It had occurred to me that if I signed some fancy book deal, there was every chance I wouldn’t be permitted to continue with the webcomic. After all, why would you pay someone to do what they gave away for free?
It was one of the major sticking points and something I still hadn’t made my mind up about. Would my readers turn on me if they thought I was taking advantage of them to make a profit? Would I be happy abandoning the webcomic I’d spent so long building up? I still wasn’t sure. I was fond of my hobby and turning it over to publishers was going to mean kissing goodbye to it being just a ‘hobby’. I knew most people in my situation would be rejoicing, but I already had the job of my dreams and didn’t want to be taken away from working doing what I loved the most.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts and took in the scene before me. The strange woman who’d cut the penguins loose was dancing around in the snow, repeating her claim over and over. The penguins were all but lost to my sight and Ashley was looking at me with despair written across her face.
I raised my net. “We’re lucky they’re penguins, not squirrel monkeys,” I told her. My experience of recapturing those tiny terrors was that it was easier nailing jelly to a wall. “The first thing to do after we’ve caught them is to patch up the enclosure, so they won’t just run straight out again. Their vet carrier is kept around by their enclosur
e in a little storage area. Would you like to run and get it, while I keep an eye on things here?”
Ashley didn’t need to be told twice. Clearly, she had an idea as to which job was the preferable one.
I waited until she’d left. Then, I approached the woman with the short blonde hair with its streak of pink in it. Everyone at the zoo had heard her shouting in the past and knew what she was claiming, but I’d realised I didn’t know her name.
I asked her what it was.
“Diane,” she said, running out of steam. I’d surprised her.
“I saw you went for a meeting with Auryn when you first arrived at the zoo,” I said. “Did you not discuss a way to move forward?”
She frowned and looked angry again. “He just asked for evidence. I know who I am,” she said, her voice rising once more.
I nodded. “I know,” I agreed, “but perhaps some family photos, a birth certificate, or even some sign of a connection could help your case. A DNA test would be a pretty foolproof way. You must be related to Auryn, right? It would clear everything up.”
The woman looked unsure. “I don’t trust any of them. These rich people are all in it together. I just want what’s owed to me and to give others the same freedom. Now these little penguins are happy, too.”
I thought about explaining to her that the little penguins she’d just freed would never be able to cope in the wild. They’d all been bred in captivity and were, as she’d found out, practically tame. They were also a long way from their native country. Life for these penguins was infinitely better in the zoo.
Although in an ideal world, every animal would be wild, the changes being made to the planet meant that animals needed protection. It was sad, and I wished that the land could be shared, but I could only be part of the mission to save what was left. The zoo also contributed to causes such as replanting rainforests, but it was our job to preserve what was left in the hopes that one day, things might change for the better.
This kind of explanation would probably be lost on Diane. I wasn’t going to dismiss her parental claims as out of hand, no matter how unlikely they were, but she definitely had some strange ideas in her head and some even stranger ways of going about proving her claim.
“You can trust the police. Perhaps they could oversee the process, or recommend someone who could?” I was still pushing for the DNA test, which was surely the best way to reach the end of the matter.
Diane looked uncomfortable. “I don’t like the police. They said I was making a nuisance by shouting at people in the zoo. I paid to get in. I can do what I want.”
I looked down at the penguins waddling around close to her feet, still scooping up the remnants of the fish she'd brought for them. Now there were only two that I could see.
I hoped Ashley would return with the carrier soon so we could play ‘hunt the penguin in the surprise blizzard’.
It could have been worse, I reflected, trying to see a bright side. At least the rather eccentric woman had fed the penguins what smelt like mackerel, as opposed to something that wasn’t suited for their diet. I was not surprised in the slightest that the penguins had fallen over themselves to get out of their enclosure for a taste of the fish. They were always enthusiastic whenever someone brought them food.
“I think you should get home. It’s cold outside and the zoo’s about to close for today,” I said, still speaking calmly to Diane. “How about you have a think about getting that test done and come back to the zoo soon? I’m sure the zoo owner, Auryn, would be happy to see you.” He wouldn’t but he would need to suck it up and meet with this lady again, if he wanted to avoid her causing a scene outside the Winter Wonderland, or letting more animals run loose.
At least that was something he could use as leverage. I knew there would be ample proof that Diane had broken into the penguins’ enclosure and released them, which was damage of property and perhaps some other things, too. I was no petty crime expert. Something told me she probably didn’t have an entirely clean record to start with, either. I knew that Auryn would want to give this woman a fair chance, if she was who she claimed to be, but the time for nonsense was definitely over. She needed to prove the validity of her claims, or move on with her life.
“He was nice last time. He said I could stay for the party,” she said, leaving me to wonder if she’d taken him up on the offer. It must have been pretty late when he’d said it because I would have remembered if Diane, or Auryn, had returned to the party. I wondered if the police knew she had gone back. It could make her a witness, or even a potential suspect. I mostly scrubbed the second thought from my mind. Unless Diane was conducting an elaborate ruse to portray herself as someone she wasn’t, (beyond the strange claim) I didn’t think she was a person capable of having the foresight to plan a poisoning, and what would her problem with Jenna have been? I shook my head a little. I was jumping at every shadow.
To my surprise, Diane shuffled off through the snow in the direction of the exit, without further complaint. At least, I hoped she was heading towards the exit and not planning to release any other animals. The penguins would be all right in the snow, but some of the others would risk succumbing to the low temperature. There was a good reason for all of the extra bedding and weatherproofing that had been added during the past couple of weeks.
I would have to double-check on my way out, but I sensed that Diane was actually going home, wherever that was. She’d made her stand for tonight.
“Got it!” Ashley said, reappearing with the large carrier.
“Let’s make our base here by the fence and add any penguins you find to the carrier.” I looked at it and decided this plan could work. “I think all ten will fit in there, but we’ll have to fix the fence pretty quick after we’ve got them there, as they won’t be happy for long.”
Fortunately, the carrier Ashley had brought had a hatch at the top, which theoretically made lowering in newly caught penguins a lot easier than if there’d just been the door at the front.
“Shout if anything happens,” I said right before we split up to look for the escapees. I felt strange saying it, but Avery was a little scarier than it had once been. That thought saddened me a lot.
I found one of the penguins getting to grips with the snow by sliding down the slope on the way towards the monkey enclosures. I nearly followed him down when I slipped on the freezing ground beneath the snow. I regained my balance and then carefully shuffled down the incline after the much speedier penguin. All the time, I was well aware of the CCTV camera that watched the path I was sliding along. I hoped I wasn’t about to do something that would end up on YouTube. I’d had enough bad CCTV experiences to last a lifetime!
Half an hour later, the penguins had all been found and were making a racket inside their carrier, unhappy to be missing the exciting weather. I’d sent Ashley home because she’d been fretting about the snow. I wasn’t too thrilled about it myself, but if I couldn’t get my car going, I would be able to take a very long walk home without too much trouble. There was always the lost property box in the staffroom that could be raided for warm clothes, and I knew the route well enough to not get into trouble.
I muttered something rude about the woman claiming to be related to Auryn. So far, she hadn’t shown that she had anything in common with the family she claimed to be descended from.
A piece of hardboard, hastily nailed into place was the grand sum of my DIY abilities when it came to fixing the penguin enclosure. I tested it and knew it would hold for the night. Hopefully, the weather wouldn’t be as bad tomorrow, and one of the caretakers would be able to come and fix the fencing. Perhaps it would be a good idea to address the fact that it was a weak point and replace it with something else. I sighed, knowing that the ‘something else’ would probably be an extension of the wall. A zoo was supposed to give people the chance to get up close with the animals, but there were always a few who abused the privilege by pulling stunts like Diane had. That ruined it for the rest when security had to be b
eefed up.
The penguins were hastily reinstated and locked in, and I congratulated myself on a job well done.
I stood for a moment, looking up at the silent but heavy snowfall. There was already a couple of centimetres on the ground, and I was starting to suspect that my estimate of one centimetre was a little off. Perhaps this was going to be some serious snowfall after all! I bit my lip, wondering how it would affect the zoo. I knew the animals would be okay - albeit a bit sulky - after our preparations, but the visitors were a different matter. Snow always put people off travelling, and I worried it would affect the success of the winter events. A little snowfall would have been lovely to accent the greenery, and might even have boosted attendance, but this snowstorm just seemed to be getting heavier.
I wiped the clumps from my glasses and angled my head down so that my vision remained as clear as it could be. I could already feel tendrils of my blonde hair corkscrewing around my head. There was something about snow which caused it to curl, as no other weather did. I supposed it was better than frizz, but it didn’t make it any less unruly.
Even though I worried about the zoo and the effect the snow would have on the gamble Auryn had taken, it was nice walking back along the paths with snowflakes swirling all around me. I was alone in a real Winter Wonderland, and the zoo was transformed into a magical place. Tomorrow, it would be interesting to see which animals would take to the snow and who didn’t want to get cold feet.
I was still smiling at that thought when I walked through reception and smelled smoke.
11
Next in Line
It wasn’t the nice autumnal scent of a wood fire that often floated across the zoo from nearby residences. This was the acrid smell of burning plastic and other things that weren’t supposed to burn.
I lifted my head up, anxiously searching for the source. The snow made it nearly impossible to see. The only thing I had on my side was the lightened sky, coloured an eery orange by the snowfall. A dark column of smoke had just started to rise above the offices. The building must be on fire!