Emma Unsworth - Animals

A knock. I sat up, guilty.

‘Jim’s on my phone for you,’ Tyler shouted from behind the door.

I got up, slid the clothes rail to one side, and opened the door. She handed me the phone.

‘He said he couldn’t get you on yours.’

She closed the door but I knew she was still there, listening.

‘I’ve only got five minutes,’ Jim said. ‘Sorry to stalk you.’

I cleared my throat. ‘I think you get special dispensation where stalking is concerned.’

‘Are you moving some stuff over to mine tomorrow?’

‘Yes.’

He laughed. ‘You’d forgotten, hadn’t you?’

‘No!’ I had. ‘Hey, Jim — I meant it when I said ask Kirsten to the wedding.’ I whispered. ‘Who cares if it puts a few noses out of joint. It’s our fucking wedding and I like her. She’s… proper, you know.’

Worth a shot. A floorboard creaked behind the door.

‘I’ll ask her.’

When I heard a shriek from the living room I dropped the bin bag I was holding and slung aside the clothes rail.

‘SHE’S TURNING INSIDE OUT!’ Tyler screamed.

It didn’t look good. Zuzu had a strange, squishy lump on her anus. At first Tyler thought it was a winnet but after several wrenches with a tea towel it became apparent that the object was attached to Zuzu on a far more fundamental level. When Tyler finally got a hold on the protrusion she tugged hard, only for it to stretch two inches out of Zuzu, prompting a shriek from the cat, who scarpered away, mystery appendage trailing.

‘We’ve got to get her to the vet’s!’

Tyler managed to catch the cat and bundle her into her cage. Zuzu thrashed around and bit the bars, gagging on them, backing up and retching with fury — we could hear her still doing it even when Tyler put her jacket over the cage. The cab driver was perturbed. That cage is waterproof, right?

When we got in the vet’s there was a heavy-breathing Rottweiler on the other side of the waiting room. Zuzu went quiet. The three of us regarded the dog as we waited. When our turn was called we stood up and Zuzu let out a thin mewl. I looked at Tyler. She had tears in her eyes. ‘I hate to see her like this,’ she said. ‘So resigned .’

In the consulting room the vet inspected Zuzu and looked at Tyler. ‘Has she been alone for any amount of time recently?’

‘Two days. I was down south.’

‘You do know that’s too long to leave an animal unattended?’

‘What’s wrong with her?’

‘She seems to have resorted to eating hosiery.’

‘Hosiery? I don’t keep hosiery.’

The vet motioned to her assistant, who came over and held Zuzu while the vet gently took hold of the protrusion and pulled it gently. Zuzu let out a low howl but didn’t move. The vet held the offending item up in all its glory. It was a glittery stocking. Jim’s most sexual gift.

‘That’s mine!’ I said. ‘That’s why I could only find one when I was packing!’

The vet looked at me.

Back in the waiting room Tyler put the cage on the counter and pulled a packet of toy mice off a display stand. ‘Do these have catnip in?’ she asked the receptionist.

‘Yes,’ the receptionist replied.

‘Good. I’ll take five packs. She deserves them.’

At the flat Tyler released Zuzu and went to the toilet. I went into the kitchen and started unpacking the bag of cocktail ingredients she’d bought to cheer us up.

‘Give her a mouse!’ Tyler shouted from the bathroom.

I opened one of the packets of mice and threw a blue mouse down the hall. Zuzu looked at me, then at the mouse, then back at me. She scissored her legs and began licking a splayed back foot. ‘She won’t play,’ I shouted.

‘How are you doing it?’

‘I dunno, throwing it.’

‘Drag it along by the wall. You have to make it seem as though it’s looking for shelter. Cats love that shit. My dad used to say that their pleasure in cruelty showed a certain level of intelligence. We had about ten of them living around the ranch. Feral but dignified. He found one of them dead on the porch one winter, frozen solid. He picked it up and carried it round the back of the house and rapped on the kitchen window with it. My mom said it was stretched out completely stiff, like a baguette.’

The toilet flushed. She came out into the hall.

‘How did that go?’

She grimaced. ‘Slugs in jelly. It’s the stress.’ Zuzu started vigorously scratching the carpet, looking at Tyler. ‘Yes, you’re so good at scratching. Really, I have raised a magnificent little show-off. I could not be more proud.’

The cat jumped up on the window, looked out at the rain, turned back to Tyler and howled.

‘Yes, yes, dearest,’ Tyler said, walking over to Zuzu and stroking her. She turned to me. ‘I can’t go away again. I can’t abandon her like that. To her, I am God. Look, see, right now she’s saying, Turn the big light back on, would you? I control her food, her warmth, her entertainment. Why would I not be in control of the sun?’

‘That’s the beauty of pets, I guess. They never outgrow you.’

‘Too true. She will never look down on me and say, You fucking mess. She will always be in awe. Now how about a martini? I don’t think I can handle any more packing today.’

I looked to where she’d been sorting books. There were barely ten in a pile I supposed was mine. I stared at them for a few minutes and then shrugged and followed her to the kitchen. She took two different-sized martini glasses from the cupboard and put them in the fridge. She rinsed a jam jar with vermouth and poured it out into a bowl. Shook vodka with ice in the jam jar and prepared to strain it with a cheese grater. Tyler made great martinis. That’s right, I sold my soul for mixology skills. So who’s the big fool? Satan, that’s who! SUCKER. She hooked up her phone to the digital radio to play music through the speakers and put on one of her favourites: ‘Cocktails for Two’ by Spike Jones & His City Slickers.

She handed me a martini. The song giddied up with a whizz and a pop. ‘I’ve been thinking about my birthday.’

My mind flicked to Stockholm and back again.

‘Jeannie was going to come up for it and get a break from the baby but she’s been back in rehab.’

‘Fuck.’ I put my cocktail down. ‘ Fuck. ’

Tyler slurped her martini. ‘Best place for her. I think the christening sent her under.

‘So it’ll just be me, you and Nick.’

‘Nick?’

‘Yes, he’s one of us, don’t worry.’

‘I didn’t realise you’d got so close.’

She tilted her head. ‘Oh yes, I quite like him. He treats sex like it’s a race. He just fires ahead and says That’s me! when he comes. Then he rolls off. But I’m onto him now, so I go for it and shout LOSER! in his face when I beat him. It feels like a really honest transaction.’

My phone beeped in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the screen.

Kirsten can’t do it but says thanks x

‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ I said.

‘What is?’

‘They can’t get organic ham for the buffet, only beef.’

She started making a second round of martinis. I drank half of mine in one gulp. Bliss, there, for a second, in the unsullied alcohol. I felt my blood being exchanged for vodka and was glad. My phone beeped again in my hand. I looked at it, thinking Jim might have sent the message twice by mistake or be following up — but no.

A picture message.

A pink-grey thing, for which interpretations rolled and wrestled within my mind’s back-catalogue of similar objects — balloon animals, raw sausage, Nessie ? — before the undeniable truth.