Free The Zoo by Jamie Mollart Page A

always buy it and will tell others to buy it. As long as it doesn’t become annoying. And aside from that it is just a matter of degrees, how much do you love it opposed to how annoying is it? It is our job to provide the information that lets people make the desired choice. Make sense?’
    Hilary is looking at me as if I’m insane. Alan is closing his laptop lid. Jessica is searching the ceiling with her doe-likes. Between them the furrows.
    â€˜Yes,’ she says, ‘I think it does.’
    â€˜Christ, you’re better than me then. Are you sure you’re going for the right job. You don’t want mine?’ Hilary is all professional smarm now. He asks her some questions and her answers are adequate if not inspired. When it becomes obvious they’ve dried up he rises from behind the table, reaches across, takes her hand, which looks clean and white in his liver-spotted paw.
    â€˜Thank you for your time, Miss Hardy,’ says Alan, showing her to the door.
    Hilary leans back in his chair and sighs. I can hear Alan talking to the Office Manager outside. When they return he says, ‘What the fuck was that?’
    I shrug.
    â€˜Are you trying to scare the shit out of her, James?’
    Again shrug. Don’t know what to say.
    â€˜Sometimes I swear you speak another fucking language.’
    â€˜When does she start then?’ I ask.
    They don’t answer. Alan finishes packing his laptop. Hilary makes a show of checking his phone.
    â€˜Alan? I asked you a question.’
    â€˜You were being a prick. You know we’ve got 3 more candidates to interview.’
    â€˜Come on. Let’s be serious. They’re going to have to be unbelievably good to beat her. Or better looking, and I doubt that’s going to happen. What do you think, Peeping Tom?’
    Hilary flicks me the Vs. ‘Due diligence. Employment law’s a bugger nowadays.’
    â€˜Come on then. Let’s get this over with then, I’ve got work to do.’
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    Two days later I’m talking to the receptionist as Jessica, Miss Hardy, walks in. She’s wearing a light grey trouser suit, hair pulled back, black rimmed spectacles. She looks like the stereotypical horny librarian. My heart sinks as the rest of me rises.
    â€˜Morning,’ she says and her glasses slide down her nose. She pushes them back up with her index finger. I lead her to Alan’s office. When she opens the door I can see him arranged in his thoughtful pose and it’s all I can do not to snigger.
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    The same evening I’m in a gallery for the launch of Lou’s exhibition. The gallery is glass-fronted so we can all watch the wrath of God hurl entire oceans onto the street outside. Despite the biblical weather there is a healthy turnout. We get there late and the guests have already begun tucking into the free wine. I take a glass of red. It’s too cold and it’s cheap and I’m quickly onto my second.
    â€˜James.’ Lou is wearing a dress.
    â€˜Fucking hell, Lou. Look at you.’
    She clutches her hem and curtsies.
    â€˜Don’t tell me you’ve shaved your legs too?’
    She grabs my cheek and pinches it.
    â€˜Where’s Dan?’ I ask.
    She points to a group of people in the main gallery space, takes Sally by the arm and leads her away. I walk over to the paintings. A man joins me. He’s wearing a trilby. We both stand back from them, arms folded, cocking our heads. I imagine I’m looking artistic and appreciative.
    â€˜I don’t get them,’ I say eventually.
    â€˜They’re about noise,’ he says. He’s got an Australian accent, faded from living here for a long time.
    â€˜Okay.’
    â€˜Yeah. They’re about noise. These ones on this side are about human noises. Or the noises we make. Those ones over there are about the noises we can’t hear. The ones that are out of our spectrum of hearing.’
    â€˜Like dog