Part 18 (1/2)

CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE SOUND OF THE morning paper being pulled through the letter box woke Tess. It was Sat.u.r.day, and there was no reason for her to get up for another hour or two, but she jumped out of bed and pulled on her dressing-gown.

Her father was making coffee when she got into the kitchen. The paper was folded beside his place at the head of the table, but Tess got to it first. On the front page, beneath the main item on the failure of peace talks in the North, was a feature about the golden bird.

'Your mother was worried about you last night,' her father said.

'Why? I was back before ten o'clock, wasn't I?'

'And why do you have to be so mysterious about where you were?'

Tess felt her irritation rising. She wanted to read the piece in the paper without a cross-examination. 'I was visiting a friend.'

'What friend? Since when have you had friends that you go to visit? You never bring them here.'

'I can't, not this one, anyway. He's not allowed out.'

'Oh? Why's that?'

'Maybe they're afraid he'll disappear.'

Her father began to say something more, but thought better of it. Tess returned to the paper.

US COLLECTOR TO BUY PHOENIX PARK PHOENIX.

Officials of the Dublin Zoo have today confirmed that the mysterious bird captured two nights ago in the Phoenix Park is to be sold to a private collector based in Missouri, USA. The figure involved has not been disclosed, but it is said to be 'fabulous'. Zoo officials say that it will allow for a complete refurbishment of certain areas of the zoo compound, as well as providing funds for the purchase and housing of a number of new animals: endangered species in particular.

The government has sanctioned the decision, on the condition that the 'phoenix' be kept for one week at the Dublin Zoo, and made available for public viewing. To this end, a special display unit is under construction, and the zoo will be open from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. from Monday 16th to Sunday 2nd February.

The Head Keeper at the zoo, Mr Jeff Maloney, confirmed that there had been initial difficulties in finding out the diet of the mysterious bird. While this had caused serious concern, it has now been resolved. The phoenix has revealed a partiality for fresh apricots, cashew nuts and spring water, and is now feeding regularly. Its condition is described as 'excellent'.

Tess handed the paper over to her father and waited while he read the article. As soon as he had finished, she said, 'Can I go?'

'Of course. I'll go with you, if you like.'

Tess spent the morning in town with her parents, struggling against a growing frustration and impatience. She urgently wanted to get to Phibsboro and find a way of looking up the boy, but she couldn't push her luck with her parents. Sat.u.r.day-morning shopping was a ritual, and so was Sat.u.r.day lunch in town.

It was after two when they got home. Tess ran upstairs and changed into a new pair of jeans that her mother had bought for her, then came back down.

'What's time's dinner?' she asked, pocketing a banana and an apple.

'The usual time, I suppose,' said her mother. 'Why? Where are you going?'

'To visit a friend in Phibsboro. I won't be late.'

Before her mother could reply, Tess grabbed her jacket and raced out into the street. She ran across the corner of the park to the Navan Road and began to walk quickly, checking over her shoulder from time to time for the bus. By the time one came and stopped for her, she had walked half-way to Phibsboro, but she felt so anxious about the captured phoenix that every minute mattered. It was an expensive two stops, but worth it to her.

A few young children were playing soccer in the street where the Switcher lived. They looked Tess over suspiciously before resuming their game. The door of the red-headed boy's house was closed. There was no car parked in front of it and no sound of a television or radio coming from within. Tess hesitated before knocking, aware of the eyes of the soccer players returning to her, aware that despite spending most of the morning trying to work out what she would say when that door opened, she still hadn't come to any firm decisions.

Her stomach was in knots. It would be so much easier just to turn and walk away. But without help, how was she going to go about releasing the phoenix? She hadn't even come up with a plan yet.

Tess knocked and waited. If there was no one there it would at least solve the immediate problem. She was just raising her hand to knock again when she heard the latch turn. The door opened a crack and the face of the pale woman peered out.

'Yes?'

Tess's mouth moved, groping for words that didn't come.

'Can I help you?'

'I was looking for ... have you got a son? Red hair?'

The woman opened the door another inch but only, it seemed, to scrutinise Tess in an extremely suspicious manner.

'Who are you?' she said.

'I ... I'm a friend. I wanted to ask him for some help.' She would get herself into deep water if she wasn't careful.

'Martin hasn't got any friends. What sort of help are you looking for?'

Tess's mind went blank. The thin woman opened the door and folded her arms.

'It's a sort of project,' said Tess, lamely. 'To do with birds.'

For a long moment Martin's mother stared hard at Tess, but gradually her gaze began to soften and be replaced with something slightly less hostile.

'Well,' she said at last, 'you can only try. He's in his room sleeping, probably. Why don't you go on up and see if you can get him out of bed?'

Tess nodded and stepped inside.

'First door on the left at the top of the stairs. Let me know if you need anything, won't you? Like a straitjacket or a tranquilliser gun.'

Tess turned to share the joke with the woman, but she was merely looking up the stairs, her white face drawn with anxiety. With mounting apprehension, Tess started up.

The house was unusually dark. The window at the top of the stairs which ought to have lit the landing had been replaced by dimpled yellow gla.s.s; the type that is sometimes found in bathrooms. There was something eerie about the silence up there which made it difficult for Tess to muster the courage to knock on the bedroom door. Martin, he was called. She remembered his charming smile. Surely there was nothing to fear?

She knocked and waited. Nothing happened. She knocked again, and then a third time.

'Martin?' she called. 'h.e.l.lo?'

Nothing. She knocked again, then leant against the wall, wondering what to do next. There was no sound from below, and she wondered what the boy's mother was doing down there. She had the impression that the rest of the house must somehow be as dark as this landing, and it gave her the creeps. She longed to turn back, to just slip quietly down the stairs and out of the door without telling anyone, but she knew that if she did that she would never have the courage to come back again. If she was going to make contact with Martin, it was now or never. Steeling herself, she reached out and quietly turned the door handle.

It wasn't locked. The door opened stiffly, rubbing against the dark grey carpet within. The curtains were drawn and only a suggestion of daylight made its way through them. In the opposite corner was a bed, and as Tess's eyes grew accustomed to the gloom she could just make out the shape of the boy, lying on his back.

'h.e.l.lo?' she said, but quietly. The atmosphere was so heavy that she dared not speak any louder. There was no response, so she crossed the room, taking care not to disturb any of the clutter which covered most of the floor.