8

Not much shocked Joseph these days, but this didn’t make any kind of sense.

What on earth was she doing? The first time he’d seen her in front of this cage, she’d calmed the animal in a way that he hadn’t known was possible. The time after that, she’d been inside the bars, with nothing to protect her. It had been like she’d understood what the animal needed. No, more than that, he thought: as if she loved the beast.

So why was she now looking like she was ready to end its life just as easily?

‘Mrs F?’ he gasped, voice fighting with another explosion off in the distance.

The woman’s eyes flitted skywards, gauging if the German bomber above was any closer than the last. Her focus spun back to the cage as Adonis dashed, panicked, from the shadows. Instantly the barrel trained back to the animal, the rifle tight under her chin, the strain visible on her face and arms.

Adonis made his displeasure felt. Louder. Angrier. Joseph wondered if it was because the ape had spotted him, an even less-welcome guest than a Nazi bomb?

But as the tension and confusion built to breaking point, they were suddenly shattered, as from nowhere bounded Tweedy, rearing up at his mistress, pulling her focus from the cage.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she said, pushing the dog down while swinging the rifle strap over her shoulder. Her eyes swept her surroundings, narrowing when she saw Joseph only yards away.

‘I might have known!’ she boomed. ‘Can you not do anything I ask?’

He wanted to fight back. To tell her this was the last place he wanted to be: that he’d simply chased her stupid dog here. But at the same time he wanted to know why she had a rifle. And why she had it pointed at Adonis.

But he didn’t get a chance to ask anything because Mrs F’s attention was pulled away by yet another blast. It still wasn’t close, but it brought on a din from all corners of the zoo, and galvanised her into action.

‘With me. Now!’ she yelled, pushing Tweedy in his direction.

Joseph didn’t move, so she shoved him on. She was much stronger than she had any right to be.

‘Where are we going?’ he protested.

‘The aquarium. There’s a trapdoor to the cellar. You’ll get down there and you will not MOVE until the siren tells you to. Understood?’

He didn’t want to do what she said, but felt powerless against her speed and strength. It was like being whisked up by a tornado, and by the time he could really resist, he was descending a dark set of stairs, the dog whimpering at his feet.

‘Trip me up, I dare you,’ he spat at it as the door slammed shut, throwing him into darkness.

It was just the two of them. Mrs F was still above ground with the rifle, doing God knows what. It was no warmer down here than it was in the open air, just damper, plus it smelled appalling, like all the fish from the aquarium had been dumped there to rot.

Joseph did the only thing he could. He sat on the damp bottom step, tensing as the dog pushed into him for warmth, and waited for the siren to sound the all clear.